44. Loner Trait (Azeras)
Not the Loner Trait, nor a god, nor human. Both god and human. A mongrel born between god and man. In kinder terms, a half-baked god—a demigod. My name is Azeras.
I, Azeras, have agonized over this for endless ages. Gods and humans. Where exactly lies the boundary between these two existences? Time passed, but no easy answer came.
At first, I thought it merely a matter of power. Like how the strong distinguish themselves from the weak. I believed the difference between gods and humans was nothing more than a gap in ability.
The destruction gods went without saying. Beings of awe-inspiring might, yet could those who wrought only ruin truly be called gods? No. They were simply creatures fortunate enough to be born with disproportionate strength. Nothing more, nothing less.
Of course, the creation gods—those who forged worlds and breathed life into them—were worthy of acknowledgment. But even their creations fell far short of perfection. The worlds and lives they made were flawed. Envy, jealousy, hatred, slaughter, greed... All these filled the created realms, staining them with chaos.
Thus, even the creation gods were mere mortals born with the gift of creation by sheer luck. Woefully inadequate to be deemed true divinities.
Whether gods wielding the power of creation, artificial humans they crafted, humans born naturally in primordial worlds, homunculi or androids made by human hands— all bore the same imperfections. I reached the conclusion that, at their core, they were no different.
Such thoughts were possible only for me: neither god nor human, but a half-god.
Amid my ceaseless torment over gods and humans, I learned by chance of a world called the Ancient Labyrinth. They said that becoming an explorer there—and its dominator—would make one a perfect god. Not like the flawed false gods of the heavens, but a truly complete, absolute deity.
I yearned for that throne. As one bearing the blood of both human and god, with souls of each intertwined, I alone was most suited for it. I could comprehend both essences and view all things objectively.
From that moment, every effort focused on finding a path to the Ancient Labyrinth.
But the way there was no simple matter. Even gods who governed dimensions declared it inaccessible. They spoke of three paths: receiving an explorer's invitation, the labyrinth's own summons, or being caught in a dark portal.
In the end, only the chosen—or those luckiest across all dimensions—could become explorers.
Yet I did not yield. I believed that if I wished hard enough, my heart would reach the labyrinth someday.
And truly, did my desperate longing touch it? One day, abruptly, I became an explorer.
An explorer could choose one of three traits: Loner Trait, Domination Trait, Helper Trait. The Ancient Labyrinth kindly explained each power. But the conditions for use? Curtly vague.
One might call the descriptions ambiguous. Loner Trait: Grow stronger by devouring foe monsters. Additional condition: ■?■■?. Domination Trait: Dominate monsters by ■■?■■?■■?. Helper Trait: Befriend monsters. Condition: Bow before them—not once, but a set number of times—to tame.
The curtness likely stemmed from soul rank. The labyrinth favored and doted on high-soul-rank souls. Yet it didn't invite only them; opportunity was equal for all.
Still, this was tolerable. The conditions were decipherable, even for one of my lofty soul rank. Lower souls might see far less—perhaps just trait names.
After brief deliberation, I chose Loner Trait. Domination Trait's description was illegible; Helper Trait's conditions were garbage. Loner Trait was clearer than Domination Trait, and I liked growing strong alone, without aid.
The instant I selected it, the Loner Trait's additional condition appeared before me.
Devour excrement.
Doing so absorbs the monster's power, making you stronger.
However, the more you grow, the more your body and mind warp to resemble the monster's.
Hint: Monster minds are resilient—becoming monstrous in thought holds appeal.
Warning: Greed is forbidden. Rapid growth leads to mental collapse.
Devouring excrement as the condition. Not so hard.
This much was fine. No greed, no collapse. Grow slowly, very slowly. Time was plentiful.
Monsters weaken near explorers. Powers from the Loner Trait did too. Absorbed power came weakened, naturally— it was the monster's nerfed state, not its true might.
Even if the excrement's owner was distant, nothing changed. Also natural. Fairness demanded it; otherwise, I'd wield unnerfed power amid weakened foes.
No disappointment. Dominion over the labyrinth would lift the seal.
Oh, and my labyrinth days were smooth. I dispatched most monsters effortlessly—not with Loner Trait power, but my innate strength, untouched.
Likely an explorer perk. Drifters kept their power too, but this was different. Drifters lacked the aura to weaken nearby monsters. Even unnerfed, they faced full-strength foes.
Join an explorer? No—drifters weaken like monsters near one.
But I retained innate power even near other explorers. Thus, I roamed, slaying most monsters with ease.
Then one day, impatience surged. Was I truly growing stronger?
Loner Trait gains remained nerfed, weaker than my innate power. Unable to feel my full strength, doubts gnawed: was I advancing?
I craved more power. Far more. Dominion would free it eventually, but waiting grew unbearable.
Greed bloomed. I made the worst choice: devoured excrement from a monster equal—or superior—to my innate power, unnerfed, its might unfathomable.
Something was wrong. The power seal began lifting—not innate, but Loner Trait gains.
Nearby monsters' seals lifted too. Innate and Loner Trait powers merged. I felt myself stronger than pre-explorer days.
Then agony tore my brain. Breath shortened, vision blurred. My soul felt devoured by darkness.
Who am I? Where is this? My purpose? Was devouring shit my life's reason? My name...
Memories tangled, self dissolving. The moment my explorer status was revoked.
I sensed my end. Before total loss, I left a note: for future explorers, to avoid my folly—and grant rest to the monster I'd become.
Thus, I, Azeras, fell lower than beasts—a rationality-shattered monster. Calamity from excess greed and folly.
Die. Must eat shit. Move.
“Shit...”
Move. Die. Something seen. Must eat shit.
Simple urges ruled my brain. A labyrinth-wandering monster driven solely by excrement craving. Former explorer.
Azeras, mid-slaughter of ambushing monsters, sensed oddness. Something clung to her back. No killing intent delayed notice.
She could rip it off... but didn't want to.
“...G-good, ah.”
Blissful calm washed over. Mind clearing, sharpening.
Enveloped in cozy warmth, Azeras chose to keep the arm on her back.
A day later, memories trickled back.
“Am I... still... alive... Truly... survived so long...”
Two days on:
“This power... Helper Trait...”
She recalled her identity—and why.
Azeras walked. Ever forward. To meet the 'friend' who saved her from eons of darkness.
Azeras reached Kang Geon's hideout. He chewed meat with his monsters.
She took him in slowly. More trustworthy than any met; familiar as an old friend; his mere presence soothed.
“Oh, you're here?”
Kang Geon waved at Azeras. Drawn like a moth, she approached slowly.
“You found the way easy enough. Been on the tamed list forever; thought I'd have to hunt you down myself.”
“...”
Azeras had lost explorer status, chances, purpose. But meeting Kang Geon birthed a new one.
“Sit here. Meat first. Talk over food, slow.”
“...”
“You don't only eat shit, right? Want some? Kids can shit now.”
“Meat... eat... Hate shit...”
“Ah. Dog Spider already went, but whatever if you hate it. Feed you Black Magma Slime then. Why's your speech so slurred? Intelligence back or what?”
“Memories... returned. Intelligence... not fully... returned...”
“Remember your name?”
“...Azeras.”
Azeras sat beside Kang Geon. Turning, she gazed at him and vowed: aid and serve this man, make him dominator of the Ancient Labyrinth.
