The Sudden Labyrinth Dispatch
Molingta's a thriving mid-sized city by modern standards—pretty decent for a frontier town. The east side buzzes with magic-related facilities, while the west is packed with temples, drawing crowds from all over.
"Feels even bigger than last time. Did they expand again?"
I push open the door to meet Vizelin, the master of everyday magic and owner of this massive building.
"Welcome~"
"Hello."
Her assistant, Shiorin, looks just like what Vizelin might grow into—a fully matured woman. The resemblance is uncanny. She greets me brightly, hugging her even more ample chest.
I smile back and bow politely.
"What brings you here?"
"Nothing major. I'm heading out of the city suddenly, so could you let Vizelin know I won't be back for a few days?"
"Oh? Leaving the city? If it's not too rude, may I ask why?"
"Uh... yeah, it's a bit sudden for me too. Someone reported a new labyrinth, and they want me to check if it's real."
"Hmm~ I see. I'll pass that on to my master."
"Thanks. Where's Vizelin, by the way?"
"No, she's upstairs chatting with someone from the temple. Should be down soon. Care for some tea while you wait? Hohoho~"
"Appreciate it, but I think people are waiting, so I should head out."
"Just kidding. Take care out there~ Whatever happens, prioritize your safety, Smith. Got it?"
"Heh, of course."
My life comes first, no matter what anyone says.
With lighter steps, I leave Vizelin's building and sprint toward the east gate.
"Fuck. How the hell am I supposed to find these people?"
At the gate, the crowd swarms like ants. Spotting my fellow adventurers in this mess? Not easy.
If I at least knew the leader's info, I could ask around. But nada.
"That fucking asshole. Did they just screw with me?"
It's plausible enough to piss me off even more.
"Ahem. Smith from the Adventurer's Guild?"
"Uh, yeah."
The clank of metal makes my shoulders tense as I whip around. There stands a stern beauty in full-body silver light armor.
"S-sorry. Am I in your way? I'll move."
"No. Calm down, Smith."
The beauty in Molingta guard armor eases my panic—she'd spooked me into thinking I'd get nabbed.
"Ahem. You got adventurers joining you today?"
"Uh... do you know the ones looking for me? We're forming a team to check out that new labyrinth report, and I'm on it."
"Ah, that must be you. See that carriage over there? The folks waiting are the guild dispatch."
"Whoa!! Thank you!!"
"Ah, uh, no prob..."
Grateful as hell, I grab her gauntleted hand and shake it. Fuck, thought it was bullshit and nearly bailed—dodged a bullet.
"Ahem... Smith."
"Yes?"
She blushes slightly calling my name. I release her hand and straighten up politely.
She hesitates a beat, then continues.
"Just to confirm—I didn't hear wrong? You're really heading out to investigate the labyrinth?"
"Yes, that's me. Kinda threw me too, but as a proper receptionist, they said go."
"Right. Got it. Duty calls—safe travels."
"Heh, thanks."
I bow slightly. She nods, satisfied, and heads back to her post.
"Hey, Captain!! You built up the mood just to bail without suggesting drinks later?!"
"Sigh, that's why I said I'm going. What do you expect from a 30-year-old virgin?"
"Sh-shut up, you bitches!!"
They think they're whispering, but their voices carry. Guess the stern beauty I shook hands with is the city guard captain. Next time, I'll grovel extra hard.
Heading to the spot she pointed out, a female adventurer in guard-level full armor spots me.
"You the guild staff for the labyrinth survey, Smith?"
"Yeah, somehow it ended up that way. Am I late?"
"No. We were chatting—time flew."
What? Shading me?
"No gear at all?"
"Yeah, they just said go as-is. Still kinda dazed. They shoved me out at dawn."
"Haha, I get it. The report says it's a day's trip, so we'll handle food and beds. Hop on."
I climb aboard quietly. Soon, the others load their stuff and board. Finally, the chatty leader signals the driver and joins us.
The carriage rolls out past the guards—no hassle, pre-cleared.
Grrrrowl.
Damn it. Not long into the ride, my stomach revolts. Around now, I'd be scarfing Amelia's mystery beast jerky. Empty gut's pissed.
"Ahem, not sure if it'll suit you, but jerky?"
"Thanks."
Smith from the desert frontier—no pride left behind.
"Good eater. We'll be together at least three days—introductions? I'm Dalia. This is..."
Ignoring me, Dalia—the leader who handed the jerky—starts intros: names, ranks.
I half-listen, focused on chewing the salty-peppery strips.
Won't chat bronze-ranks face-to-face much, and dispatches like this are rare.
Of the eight women, just remember Dalia. She's close to silver-rank eligibility—worth noting.
Same tier as scary Siron? Suddenly, her pale skin, big chest, pretty face scream "reliable protector."
Not sexual—just means she'll keep me safe. Beauties here pack power.
"Walk from here. Everyone off!!"
While I fill up, the carriage hits a forest edge. Dalia barks orders, grabs gear, dismounts.
I wait till they're out, then follow.
"Good work. Oh, deliver this letter to James."
"Sure. Safe travels."
The shabby driver turns back to Molingta.
"Report says monsters and beasts from here on. Stay calm, Smith—no panicking."
"Got it."
Too hungry to argue. I shut up, stick to the women's center, let them shield me into the woods.
Crunch crunch.
No real vigilance since training camp, but these women scan better than me and my squad back then.
One slip here means death.
Deeper in, bladder pressure builds—no joke. City life's softened me; tension and their aura prickle my skin.
Growl!!
"......"
"......Pfft."
Fuck. Tone-deaf bitch.
"Bit early, but let's eat then move."
Smart one.
Crackle, pop! My gut-clock nails first meal timing. We push deep into the forest—no attacks, so extra distance covered. Camp's simple: fire, twig tents, blankets.
"If we'd hit a beast, we'd roast it. Sorry."
"Nah. Freeloading—can't complain."
"Haha, compared to Molingta men, you're a gentleman. Wine?"
Dalia hands grilled jerky and a small metal flask.
"What's this?"
"Cheap grape wine."
Oh shit. Wine? Sick of bland beer—didn't expect this.
"Won't say no."
"Got another. Drink up."
No time for chit-chat—I bite jerky, pop the cork. Sweet-tangy scent hits; saliva floods. Gulp gulp.
"Puha~!"
Not like watery beer—sweet-bitter bliss empties the flask.
"Glad you like it."
"Guild beer's trash next to this."
"Haha, yeah. Costs a fortune in herbs."
My eyes spin.
"Wha, whaa... huh?"
"Tch, fuck. Didn't think you'd chug it... this'll be bad."
Something's very wrong, but no biggie. Limbs intact, alive—fine.
Then, as consciousness fades, a chilling whisper:
"Heh, Filoren noblewomen love men playing together. Wonder what he'll fetch."
My mind reels.