Where the Alchemist Resides (3)
Turn the corner on the right and you're there. Slow your pace.
Again? Seriously?
Yes. Again.
Something strange was going on.
I was running into Argos more and more often lately. Even though I was deliberately sticking to routes designed to avoid encountering them as much as possible.
This was not a normal situation. It felt almost as if the Argoses knew exactly where I was and were moving accordingly.
I wanted to dismiss it as mere paranoia, but I'd survived in this godforsaken world long enough to know better. The odds that this was a misunderstanding were far lower than the odds that the situation was sliding toward the absolute worst.
When things got like this, it was always better to assume the worst than to hope for the best.
Even if I ended up making a fool of myself.
I hastily mapped out a new route in my head.
My original plan had been to circle around Sector A of this laboratory indefinitely, dodging the Argoses and running out the clock. When it came to staying safe, that was the optimal strategy.
Why fight anything at all when you could guarantee your survival just by moving at the right moments? No strategy could beat that.
But as long as I couldn't tell whether I was stepping onto asphalt or cracked ice, I couldn't afford to keep playing it that way.
It was time to change strategies.
We're moving a little faster.
"Fools. Pick up the pace and follow me."
I already had a plan in mind.
The dungeons of Soul Academy contained something called a Safe Zone.
In gaming terms, you'd call it a save area. A place where monsters never respawned, and where your HP and mana recovered the moment you stepped inside.
Of course, since this world was reality and not a game, save-and-load was off the table. There was no full-recovery function for health or mana either.
But there was one thing that carried over.
Monsters didn't respawn there, and they wouldn't approach the zone unless you attacked them first.
Forsell had told me as much back when we cleared the dungeon in Evans, so I was certain of it.
If we could just reach that place, we wouldn't have to worry about monster threats anymore.
So why hadn't I headed for the Safe Zone already, knowing all this? Because getting there meant facing an enemy. No way around it.
At the entrance to the Safe Zone stood a single monster, blocking the way like a gatekeeper. Back when this was just a game, I'd assumed it was simply a mechanic to prevent players from slipping through without a single fight. Now that it was reality, that little detail had become a royal pain in the ass.
What kind of monster was it, you ask? No idea. It was completely random.
It wouldn't be a boss or a named elite, of course. Just one of the common monsters populating Where the Alchemist Resides — nothing about it was fixed.
And among those common monsters were some that were genuinely dangerous to meet head-on, which was why I'd shelved the Safe Zone plan for later.
But now that I was certain something was going wrong, it was time to promote Plan B to Plan A.
First, let's just find out what the gatekeeper actually is. If it looks manageable, we kill it. If not, we figure something else out. Simple as that.
Getting to the gatekeeper's post wasn't all that hard. We'd already been looping through these same corridors and dodging every fight, so advancing without meeting an enemy was hardly a challenge at all.
And so I arrived at the passage just before the Safe Zone — and got my first look at the monster guarding it.
Arms so long they nearly dragged along the ground yet so thin a careless touch might snap them, and stubby little legs like something out of a cartoon. Abnormally huge red eyes, and a massive pointed hat hiding whatever head it had.
One of the monsters of Where the Alchemist Resides — the chimera known as the Witch.
Of all the common mobs, she was one of the more obnoxious ones.
For starters, the ranged attacks were infuriating. Then there was the way she lived up to her name, harassing players with all manner of curses and spells. But what pissed me off most was her design philosophy: she was built entirely around picking off the back line instead of the front.
Then again — call it a trade-off. For all her focus on debuffs and back-line attacks, the Witch carried one crippling penalty: her spells hit like wet noodles.
If this were still a game, I'd have sighed, ugh, not this bastard again. But things were different now.
Every advantage that thing possessed was predicated on one assumption: that she could break apart the party members behind the front line. Put another way, a Witch who couldn't reach the back line was nothing but trash with lower stats than half the mobs in this dungeon.
And right now, I happened to have a taunt skill so absurdly overpowered that a knight far above my level, Forsell himself, could be baited with it.
Everyone...
"Fools. We're going to take that thing down now."
"...That thing?"
Joy asked hesitantly, and though Jacob didn't open his mouth, the fear on his face was plain as day.
Even so, I didn't budge.
This was about as close to the ideal scenario as I could have hoped for. If we cleared this one obstacle, our safety was guaranteed. What reason was there to back down?
Yes. That's the plan.
"What's the matter? Scared? Honestly, such cowards."
"But—"
Don't worry...
"Relax. None of you fools will be in any danger. Just do what cowards do and support from the back."
The two of them finally nodded. They were acknowledging my authority as the one who'd led this party all the way here.
Trust really is built on results, after all.
After giving the two of them a rough outline of the battle plan, I tightened my grip on my shield and stepped out of the alley.
My eyes met the Witch's, and her enormous eyes curved into crescents.
Child. That one is strong.
I know.
I'd called it trash, but that was strictly by this dungeon's standards. Compared to me as I was now, its specs were far higher.
It may prove dangerous.
I said I know.
Maybe the right call really was to keep dodging monsters like I'd been doing. Maybe I'd walked straight into danger over nothing, just because of some gut feeling about a "variable."
But there was no taking it back now.
The enemy was right in front of me.
Are you not afraid?
I'm fine.
My skill crushed down the fear welling up inside me. My skill sealed off the cowardly whisper that told me to run.
And so I could find my courage.
If you do not regret this, then I shall aid you with all I have.
I'm counting on you.
The Witch watched me with playful eyes, then giggled and waved her spindly arms.
She probably thought I was some pathetic little toy.
Back in the game she could only perform her scripted animations — now that she'd grown an actual personality, she was really getting on my nerves.
I drew in a deep breath.
I hadn't decided what to say. Planning out your taunts in advance? That's not very mesugaki, now is it?
"Pfft, you look ridiculous?♡ Those gross noodle arms, those doll legs, and that face — just revolting♡ I don't know who made you, but they must hate you. Because honestly? Nobody makes something this hideous by accident?♡"
At the taunt, the Witch's crescent eyes swelled into full moons — then flattened into slits.
Her playfully swaying arms and legs froze stiff, and I could see mana surging and churning around the monster.
At the same instant, the euphoric rush of my skill seized hold of me.
Child. Here it comes.
The moment her feet left the ground, a magic circle bloomed in front of the Witch.
Shadow Hands! That technique is—
No time for the lecture!
I didn't know the spell called Shadow Hands in detail, but I had a pretty good idea what it did — because I'd memorized every single one of the Witch's attack patterns.
Most likely, a swarm of arms would erupt from behind her to seize me. A grab-type crowd control.
I froze for a beat and glanced behind the Witch.
Countless arms stained pitch-black were rising into view.
Just as I thought.
The counter to this technique was simple.
I counted one second in my head and rolled forward.
Behind me, the cobblestones where I'd been standing a heartbeat ago exploded into rubble.
The instant I came up, I dove sideways again. The grasping fingers meant to snare me swiped through empty air.
One last adjustment of my stance, and I broke into a sprint — the tangled knot of shadow arms could no longer give chase.
The next one comes immediately!
Realizing her spell had failed, the Witch instantly began casting again — but before she could finish, a fireball slammed into her face.
FWOOM!
The blast itself wasn't all that powerful, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was that it interrupted her cast. That was all.
Nice one, Joy!
Run.
Don't think about anything else. Just run.
I'd been running every single day — yesterday, the day before, a week ago, every miserable day for the past several months.
So picking up speed came as naturally to me as breathing.
By the time the smoke obscuring the Witch's vision cleared, I was already right in front of her.
My mace swung high overhead, and the Witch frantically began casting a new spell.
I didn't need Halbae to tell me what it was. There was only one spell she ever cast when an attack was coming at close range.
Reflect — the spell that bounced attacks back.
A genuinely nasty piece of work: swing carelessly, and you'd eat a counter from your own strike. But if you saw it coming ahead of time, dealing with it wasn't so hard.
Powerful effects always came with short durations.
I stopped dead in my tracks, mace still raised.
The Witch's bewildered eyes met mine.
"Pathetic little trash♡ Go die already♡"
The moment her spell expired, I brought the mace crashing down onto the Witch's skull.
The stunned monster staggered backward.
I couldn't finish it in one blow, but I could feel the damage landing.
I can do this. I can win!
Do not give it room to breathe. Press the attack.
You think I don't know that?!
I charged forward again — to hammer down the monster that was scrambling to ready another spell through its confusion.
At the very deepest point of the dungeon.
In a dark chamber painted crimson and crimson again by nothing but the blood of living things, the Alchemist had been fitting together the limbs of some unidentifiable creature like a child playing with toys — until he lifted his head.
"So... I sense the accursed aura of Armadi."
Armadi. The one who oppressed the world beneath the banner of order.
Why, then, did that aura echo within his laboratory?
The Alchemist drew forth his staff — bone and flesh woven together from nothingness — and struck it against the floor.
His dominion spread through the entire laboratory where he dwelled, and before long, he had located the source of the aura.
An intruder. One blessed by Armadi had entered his laboratory.
Peering at the intruder through the lens of his mana-sight, the Alchemist smacked his rotting, half-decayed tongue against the roof of his mouth.
A fine specimen indeed. Small, perhaps, but the blessings carved into that little body were so varied — playing with it promised to be entertaining.
Above all, there existed no music in this world more beautiful than the screams torn from the lips of Armadi's apostle.
The Alchemist flung aside the toy in his hand and set his massive frame in motion.
To retrieve the prey that had wandered into his snare, blissfully unaware of it.