Chapter 54: Labyrinth City Lartania (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 54: Labyrinth City Lartania (3)
Labald Graystone was a character whose very existence was a blight.
Among the many characters one could encounter while playing Psychedelia, he was the personification of a degenerate scoundrel.
The mercenary massacre on the 30th Layer.
The incident involving a monster absorbing an Abyss Body.
The biological experiments on chimeras.
Most of the malicious subplots that occurred in Lartania during the game were caused by him. In other words, for the future of Lartania, it was objectively better for him to cease existing than to remain.
However, Labald Graystone remained alive simply because he was the son of the Labyrinth City’s Lord. Within the city, the position of the Lord’s son carried absolute power, effectively allowing him to reign like a king.
...To put it simply, Line had essentially assassinated a member of the royalty. Alon, doubting his own ears, asked blankly.
“...You killed him?”
“Yes.”
“...Labald Graystone...?”
“Yes.”
Line answered as nonchalantly as if she were mentioning what she’d had for breakfast. Alon felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.
“Truly...?”
“Yes, Godfather. Was there a problem?”
“...Why did you kill him?”
“Well... because you said he made you uncomfortable?”
“?”
“??”
Question marks practically hovered over both Alon’s and Line’s heads as they stared at each other.
“Even so, killing him immediately is a bit... don't you think?”
“But if he stayed alive, he would have continued to make you uncomfortable...?”
“....”
Talking to Line made Alon realize a certain fact anew.
‘...Right, she’s one of the Five Great Sins.’
He had been momentarily deluded because she acted like a well-behaved daughter who grew up fine without much supervision, but Alon broke into a cold sweat as he remembered that Line was one of the seeds of the Five Great Sins.
‘No, but... before that, how on earth did she kill him?’
Labald Graystone himself wasn't particularly strong. However, the mercenaries who followed him everywhere were not foes that could be easily dispatched. They were A-rank mercenaries at the very least.
So, how did Line—who wasn't a combatant like Deus or Seolrang, but a mere appraiser—manage to deal with them?
Seeing the doubt clouding Alon’s face, Line spoke up cautiously.
“...Was there really a problem?”
Perhaps because Alon had asked so many times, she finally looked slightly dejected, as if wondering if she had done something wrong without realizing it.
“It’s not that there’s a problem... but are you alright?”
“In what way?”
“...Mainly regarding your personal safety.”
“You don't need to worry about that, Godfather.”
“Is... that so?”
“Yes. I made sure to disguise myself so it wouldn't be traced back to me.”
Looking at Line, who gave a confident, firm nod despite her expressionless face, Alon was reminded of a phrase he had once seen in an online community.
‘...Is this what they mean by having a fundamentally different thought process...?’
Alon cleared his throat lightly and spoke.
“Anyway, thank you for looking out for me. Don't look so down.”
“I wasn't down, Godfather.”
“...You looked a little dejected just a moment ago—”
“I wasn't.”
‘...She kills royalty without batting an eye, yet she gets embarrassed over this?’
Alon looked at the extraordinary Line with a hint of fascination before continuing.
“Regardless, try to refrain from doing things that could put your life at risk.”
“...Why, Godfather?”
“Because many problems could arise. First, you could be in danger, and everything you’ve worked so hard to build could crumble in an instant.”
“...?”
Line tilted her head, looking as if she didn't understand what he was saying. It wasn't a difficult concept, yet she seemed genuinely puzzled. She appeared to ponder it seriously for a moment.
“Ah.”
She nodded slightly as if she had realized something.
“Don't worry too much, Godfather. I understand my duty well.”
Watching Line go back to eating her food, Alon felt a bit bewildered. Even though they were having a conversation, it felt like they were slightly out of sync.
However, he decided that continuing this topic wasn't the best choice and fell silent. In the end, she had disposed of Labald for his sake. It was a bit... no, it was very excessive, but since she had acted for him, Alon decided not to press further.
‘But still, would someone go this far just because I’m their godfather...?’
As Alon ate a sausage while harboring such thoughts, Line spoke again.
“Oh, I actually wanted to show you the Stalker’s Eye. Would you come with me?”
“The Stalker’s Eye?”
“Yes.”
Alon nodded at her request. Shortly after finishing their meal, Alon followed Line into a certain room.
“...?”
Inside the small room, he saw a golden eye floating in the air. Surrounded by a blue halo, the golden eye looked anything but ordinary to anyone who saw it.
Staring at it blankly, Alon recalled what Line had just said—that she would show him the Stalker’s Eye.
‘This... is the Stalker’s Eye...??’
Alon couldn't help but wear a stunned expression.
* * *
The Stalker’s Eye that Alon had handed over to Line was, according to his knowledge, merely an artifact consisting of a round sphere embedded with a small, eye-shaped gem. Its effect was to allow for more detailed appraisal of artifacts found below a certain layer.
In other words, it wasn't originally a very good item. Since there were no special descriptions in the artifact’s lore—unlike the Essence of the Golden Mane Tribe—Alon never imagined the Stalker’s Eye would hide such a secret.
“The engravings are being collected smoothly.”
It didn't take long for him to guess that this Stalker’s Eye was an object that imprinted engravings to further strengthen specific relics, but he didn't bother to confirm it.
Alon had realized something. He finally understood why Line was showing him such immense favor!
‘So it was because of this...’
As far as he knew, the reason Merde, the guild Line ran, became truly famous was due to the ability to apply engravings. This meant that Line’s success was, to some extent, thanks to the Stalker’s Eye. From her perspective, she couldn't help but feel deeply grateful to Alon.
Of course, Alon had never dreamed the Stalker’s Eye would have such an effect.
...Regardless, since Line felt grateful, it would look strange if Alon appeared to know nothing about it.
“I see. You’re putting it to good use.”
Alon nodded as if he had known the true nature of the Stalker’s Eye all along.
“Yes. The collection rate slowed down a bit after reaching 400, but they’re still gathering well. I think they’ll all be collected within a few years.”
“Is that so.”
He wondered what exactly was being "collected," but asking would only raise Line’s suspicions. He simply gave a small nod.
After some more time had passed.
“Then, let’s head out immediately, Godfather.”
Alon, accompanied by Evan, followed Line to the location of the regular meeting.
* * *
Alon had two reasons for wanting to join the Outer God Subjugation Squad.
First, it was obvious that the current mercenaries alone would never be able to defeat an Outer God. Of course, the mercenaries from the 5 Great Guilds gathered for this task possessed superhuman strength, comparable to Babayaga or the Master Knights. However, Alon knew that alone was not enough to kill an Outer God.
The second reason was that to defeat the Outer God, he absolutely needed the strength of powerful mercenaries who would move according to his instructions. That was why he sought to join the subjugation force.
The only problem was—
“Tch.”
“He doesn't look like much. You’re saying we have to take a guy like this along?”
“Ha—his reputation is clearly just hot air. Is he here to ride our coattails?”
—The mercenaries didn't seem inclined to follow Alon’s orders at all.
In the meeting room Alon entered, four men and women were glaring at him with blatant displeasure.
Maverick, the Guild Master of Terra Nomad, was clicking his tongue and fiddling with his sword, his face twisted in irritation.
Himan, the Guild Master of Arcadia, lifted his pointed hat slightly and spoke with an expression of naked contempt.
Myaon, the beastkin woman and Guild Master of the Ancient Chaser guild, spun a dagger in front of her, her feline eyes narrowed into slits as she let out a scoff of disapproval.
And then.
The one who was effectively the strongest among the current Guild Masters, the leader of the Kalimadra guild.
“....”
Argonia, a Half-Dragon descended from the dragons that had vanished long ago, watched him in silence. Naturally, that gaze was far from positive.
‘I expected as much, but this is even worse than I thought.’
Alon’s thoughts drifted as he scanned the room, noting the blatant hostility and mockery from each Guild Master. He had anticipated this situation to some degree.
The people in this room were skilled enough to gauge Alon’s mana. Above all, they were mercenaries. They were people who prioritized the logic of power above all else. He knew that to gain their recognition and even begin a conversation, he first had to prove he wasn't someone to be ignored.
“Listen, Lord Noble. I’ve heard rumors that you’ve been sticking your nose in everywhere lately. But seeing you in person, you’re not even in our league. Why don't you just go home?”
“Sigh.”
Without hesitation, Alon responded to Myaon’s sneer by flicking his left hand, which was clad in a gauntlet, and forming a seal.
At that moment.
Cr-crack!
Without any warning, the ordinary meeting room began to fill with ice. Myaon tried to spring up from her seat at the sudden occurrence.
“Condensation.”
However, as soon as Alon, who had already formed the seal inside his pocket, uttered the Phrase, the surrounding atmosphere—including the mana—swirled toward Myaon.
“Freezing.”
At the following word, the air and mana gathered around Myaon reacted instantly, forming frost that then proliferated explosively.
Cr-crack!
It encased her completely. Myaon was trapped in ice, looking bewildered, not even realizing how she had been struck.
The reason he froze her was simple. According to the settings he knew, she was the only one among the Guild Masters here whose combat power fell short of the superhuman level.
After glancing once at the frozen Myaon, who hadn't even been able to react to the surprise attack, Alon walked past the numerous mercenaries who had rushed in after sensing something was wrong.
Step. Step.
Neither slow nor fast. Moving with a calm, steady pace as if nothing had happened, he sat in the chair opposite Argonia.
“I believe this proves I am of the right caliber to speak with you.”
He crossed his legs.
A heavy silence descended upon the meeting room.