The Night Is Too Dark (1)
The Night Is Too Dark (1)
Every entrance they could use had been completely sealed, yet thirty-one otherworlders still died.
"..."
My gaze unconsciously shifted toward Yun Jung-hyun. No wonder he'd said there were no casualties... had he used them as meat shields?
"...No, that's not it. All the players were under control. There's no way that happened."
"The culprits were the monsters, not the players."
Catching the look in my eyes, Yun Jung-hyun denied it vehemently. Sir Thomas also lent weight to Yun Jung-hyun's words.
"...It was the passage we blocked in haste that caused the problem. The stones we used were so large that small gaps remained."
Sir Thomas spoke while gazing at the castle.
Unlike the other passages that had been sealed tightly, the one they'd blocked in a hurry right before the monsters came had tiny gaps between the stones.
Of course, they weren't big gaps. It was a perfectly common-sense mistake—not even a small child could have squeezed through.
"...It was a creature that looked like a cat. It had three pairs of eyes, and its body was about the size of a ten-year-old child."
The enemy wasn't human, so it wasn't bound by common sense.
The gap was incredibly narrow, but it was still enough for a small, flexible creature to slip through.
"We killed twelve. Seven were wounded. Thirty-one died. Because we assumed the interior of the castle was safe, we'd let our guard down... the vast majority of the dead were killed before the soldiers could reach them."
"..."
I'll say it again: all players are superhuman. Having reached Floor 4, even the weakest player is stronger than an ordinary person.
And so I had forgotten. I'd forgotten just how terrifying monsters are from an ordinary person's perspective.
"What about... the baron?"
"The baron is unharmed. However..."
Sir Thomas bit his lip hard and couldn't finish. He steadied his breathing for a moment, then barely managed to get the words out.
"...My apologies. The baron said he needs some time. If you have anything you wish to say, I will relay it on your behalf."
"...No, that's fine. I'll see him later."
"...Yes. Then."
Sir Thomas bowed his head and walked away. His winter clothing was completely stained with blood.
"..."
When a monster dies, its blood and fat vanish too. Yet Sir Thomas's clothes were soaked in blood.
He must have held fading lives in his arms.
**
No more monsters made it over the walls, and a rest period naturally followed. About six hours passed, and by the time it was fully midday—
...To put it bluntly, the moods of the players and the otherworlders were complete opposites.
"Whoa, I went up ten levels?"
"All that grinding from day one really paid off."
"Let's just keep this pace!"
"Hey, they'll hear you. Keep it down."
First, the players—though they didn't show it openly—were mostly in a festive mood.
This was the defensive line they'd been preparing since the first day. Thanks to completely blocking every spot where the gate had been, the monster horde had been filtered once, and because they'd sealed the castle entrances, the front line had narrowed.
On top of that, since I was personally handling one passage, the ninety-plus other players just needed to take shifts covering the remaining passages. With preparations this thorough, it was only natural that there were no deaths.
Moreover, the more monsters you killed, the more experience points you could farm. From the tutorial all the way to Floor 3, there had never been this many monsters. As long as safety was guaranteed, there wouldn't be a better hunting ground.
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Thank... thank you..."
Of course, it wasn't so easy that the people who chose the Tower's easiest path—Silver Badge on Floor 2, Difficulty 1 on Floor 3—could survive completely unscathed. They were just slightly stronger ordinary people, and the enemies were monsters.
But we had a universal healer: William Smith. His role probably played a big part in why there were no deaths.
In summary, everyone had been terrified because the mission was "survival"... but now it turned out the monsters gave a ton of experience, and the survival difficulty didn't look that hard. Some players even joked about wanting to stay past day five.
"...My wife, my wife..."
"...No. I can't..."
In contrast, the otherworlders' mood was indescribably grim.
There were three hundred otherworlders, and less than twenty of them were capable of fighting. A sturdy blacksmith swinging a weapon might pose some threat, but not enough to easily subdue the creatures—so, in that sense, they were closer to worker units in an RTS game.
If a creature infiltrated like it just had, they could only be ruthlessly trampled.
"...Shouldn't we be helping them?"
And so, some players insisted they should help the otherworlders. One representative was the buffer who stayed close to Ahn Gyeong-nam—Baek Da-hye.
"Honestly, we have plenty of leeway. Later we were even going to fight each other for more experience points. How about dispatching some people as defensive reinforcements? Or... at least lending them the magic devices we found on Floor 2..."
As Baek Da-hye said, thanks to the thorough groundwork, the players currently had room to spare. Furthermore, after examining the magic devices they'd obtained from the hidden room on Floor 2, they'd confirmed that many of them contained useful functions like creating barriers or emitting flashes of light.
"They're people just like us. We should still help them, shouldn't we...?"
Baek Da-hye's words were perfectly reasonable and made sense.
"Why would we?"
But this was inside the Tower—a space where logic goes out the window.
"Aren't those guys basically NPCs? Does anyone in a game cry when a minion dies? They should be grateful we didn't use them as meat shields."
Some didn't even see the otherworlders as the same kind of people.
"It is sad, but it's too early to be sure we have leeway ourselves. We got through today safely, but there are still two days left. How do we know we'll stay comfortable? We don't even know what's coming next."
There were also those who refused on conservative grounds.
"Didn't we agree, when we first formed this alliance, that each of us would look out for ourselves? We've done our part. There's nothing to be sorry for. It's because those people are too weak."
That wasn't wrong. From the start, when they'd built this cooperative relationship, they'd considered that something like this might happen. I think the otherworlders had probably braced themselves as well.
...But death, when it becomes real, carries a weight all its own.
**
Even the sunset faded, and the sky deepened to a dark indigo.
Thud. Thud.
"..."
"..."
About twenty men, including Baron Jorge, were silently digging into the ground. The remaining territory residents—now fewer than three hundred—stood still, watching the sight.
Thud. Thud.
How long did they dig? Once the holes were finished, men carrying cloth-covered planks walked over from the direction of the castle.
"Ailey. She was a bright child."
Only then did Baron Jorge speak.
"She was scatterbrained by nature and made frequent mistakes, but her cooking was the best in our territory. It always looked like she was tossing ingredients in by eye, yet somehow it tasted the way it did."
They gently laid the cloth-wrapped bodies into the earth and covered them well with soil. The ground was frozen, and blood ran from the men's hands, but none of them showed any sign of it.
"Mickey. This one had a quick temper but a warm heart. I thought he did nothing but pick fights every day, until one day he brought in a thief."
One hole was filled. Even the players who'd disparaged the otherworlders as NPCs had retreated—this was a sight that was hard to watch.
"Ellis."
"Darren."
"Michael."
"Melissa."
Each time a name was called, a hole found its owner. At last, when all the holes were filled—
"...May they rest in a better place."
Baron Jorge, who'd finished his silent prayer, finally met my eyes.
"...Why are you here?"
"..."
I'd meant to ask, "Are you all right?" But there was no way he was all right. A man who remembered every single territory resident's name—there was no way he was all right.
"Ah."
As if he'd just realized something, Baron Jorge patted my shoulder.
"I know very well that you did your best. It's just... this godforsaken space is what's wrong."
Then he looked around at the other territory residents before turning back to me.
"...We have things to discuss among ourselves. Would you give us a moment?"
"..."
The truth was, I hadn't come here to comfort him. I'd come to discuss our plans. Because, deep down, I'd thought, 'I'll just save them next cycle.'
My gaze drifted toward the territory residents, who were quietly weeping. Other people's deaths had delivered a shock to me, but the shock wasn't violent enough to draw tears.
What was the reason for their sorrow?
When you die, that's the end. You can never meet again. That's why people fear death and grieve it.
But not me.
When I regress, people who died walk around perfectly fine again, and mistakes become things that never happened. If I'm willing to accept a little sacrifice, I can seize whatever outcome I want. The death that weighs so infinitely heavy on others is relatively light for me.
"I'll see you tonight."
...I'd already become someone who doesn't grieve over death.
**
The sun set, and full darkness returned. There was no sign of the moon, and the cries of beasts seemed to grow louder.
Rumble.
"..."
"..."
The castle walls began to tremble. This was a phenomenon I'd already experienced once.
-33 : 00 : 16
"The monsters are gathering now. They're fast."
The second assault had begun.