The Saintess Who Should Be Dead

My brow furrowed of its own accord.

······ That couldn't be right.

"Hmm."

············ It was Saintess Seia.

There was no mistaking it.

The memories of Wilhelm, inherited from the Star. The face within those memories matched the one before me now. And the sacred aura radiating from her was unmistakably that of Saintess Seia.

I had reunited with her in a place I never expected, at a time I never imagined.

"How dare you lay a hand on Her Majesty!"

"Die!"

Isaac and Isabella had already thrown themselves into battle against the barbarians. And yet I could not move a muscle. It had been a long time since anything had shaken me this hard.

How is she still alive?

She had survived that curse and that collapse? Then why was she alone in the labyrinth?

I shook my head. I had realized that how she was alive was not the real question.

Why is she alive?

Why? Who had done this, and for what purpose?

In the final moments of the Great Expedition as I remembered them, only one being could have kept Saintess Seia alive.

The Demon King.

Had the Demon King intervened? Had he planted her in this labyrinth with some design of his own?

"Nngh······."

As if on cue, Saintess Seia let out a short moan and began to stir. I reached out a hand.

Thud!

Saintess Seia slumped back into unconsciousness.

I had been curious about Greed's actual combat ability. His level was high, but if most of it was invested in gambling, his raw fighting power might have been a disappointment. He overturned that expectation completely, subduing the Desert Queen without much trouble.

He also seemed to understand the meaning of "subdue" properly — he did not kill her. He had torn away the leathery membranes that served as her wings, seized her by the nape, and pinned her body beneath his knee. A perfect restraint.

Excellent.

Even a rotting herring still has its bones. Greed, too, had been a ruler of the Abyss — I found myself reflecting on the past version of myself who had doubted his combat prowess.

I turned my head toward Isabella.

"Isabella. You kill her."

I placed the Desert Queen's life and death in her hands. Unlike before, her body no longer trembled with fear.

— P-please, spare me. My beloved child. I truly love you.

"······ It's all right. I'm no longer afraid of the Queen."

Isabella shook her head. Her attitude made it clear she had no intention of simply finishing off someone else's work. But the Desert Queen had been Isabella's eternal trauma. I had meant for her to cut that trauma out with her own hands — yet she already seemed to have overcome it. If anything, the gaze she turned on me only grew more intense.

If she said she was fine, I could hardly force her. I shrugged and drew Shatiros's bow.

Whoosh!

Thud!

— Aagh!

A short scream, and the terror effect took hold. A random stat had likely dropped by ten as well.

Whoosh!

Thud!

I kept firing. With every arrow that struck, another random stat was carved away.

— S-stop! Please, stop! Please! Aagh!

It was a truly terrifying way to die — to feel yourself growing weaker with every breath, to bleed and tremble before a death you could not resist.

After dozens of arrows, the Desert Queen could no longer even scream. Every one of her stats had hit zero. Only when she hung limp, unable to so much as part her lips, did the Desert Queen finally die.

A thousand points. That brought me to 2,350. A little short, but I wasn't worried.

"We'll need to clean up the remaining barbarians as well."

There were still plenty left to deal with.

The users of Player Talk poured their despair onto the boards.

As the labyrinth clear dragged on, the rate of Pangenia's dimensional erosion began to accelerate. More precisely, the acceleration had kicked in after Sword Saint Ryleigh entered Phase 4. Just a day ago it had been 12%. Now it was 13%. At this pace, it would hit 20% in seven days.

More players took the dimensional erosion seriously than one might expect. Their concerns were simply being buried by those who saw it as an opportunity.

A few players had attempted re-challenges, but even those had stopped. The conviction had set in that further attempts would only waste fragments. And the fragments they still had were all in pitiful condition. Telling people how to reach the underground labyrinth at this point was useless.

Then it happened.

A single line of text suddenly appeared before everyone's eyes. A post announcing that MintChocoIsDelicious was challenging the Sword Saint. The boards were instantly flooded with talk of nothing else.

But that was not all. Another line of text followed immediately after.

Sword Saint vs. Randolph

Upon reconnecting, Gracia surveyed his surroundings. Not the labyrinth — the continent. In front of a warp gate. He had been forcibly ejected.

Disgusting.

The thought of starting over from the beginning made his brow crease on its own. But there was nothing he could do about it.

Sword Saint Ryleigh. That bastard had been absurd.

At first it had been easy. He had been able to deal enough damage to shatter all three sealing orbs without difficulty. The problem was Phase 4 — the moment the three shackles came free.

He changed.

Sword Saint Ryleigh transformed every time a shackle was released. Faster, stronger, tougher — gradually slipping free of the Heavenly Sword's influence. But the greater problem was the change that appeared upon reaching Phase 4. A dramatic transformation. A form completely different from anything that had come before.

That form was definitely······.

He clenched his fist, then opened it. Merely recalling that appearance was enough to put him on edge. An unforeseen variable.

One thing was certain.

He is not someone you can clear without preparation.

Preparation was needed. He had taken it too lightly. He had assumed victory was inevitable. Of course, that confidence had come from completing thorough advance research on Sword Saint Ryleigh.

Over a hundred specialists had poured into the Grand Library, digging deep into Ryleigh's legends and myths. They had scoured every scrap of material in which Ryleigh appeared. Afterward they had reconstructed their findings, mapping out Ryleigh's swordsmanship and even his everyday habits. They had engineered an environment in which victory was the only possible outcome — and then challenged him. On top of that, he had been equipped with the Azure Radiance. He had been certain.

But a variable had appeared. A variable so powerful he had been forced to log out.

The Empire's involvement was unexpected, but even for them, the Phase 4 form must have been a surprise.

The Empire's Three Swords. He had never heard the name before, but nearly everything about the Empire was shrouded in secrecy. And if anyone would know more about Sword Saint Ryleigh, it would be the Empire. Yet even the Empire's Three Swords had retreated the moment they entered. Why? Because that dramatic transformation of Sword Saint Ryleigh was something even the Empire had not accounted for.

Text floated before his eyes. Looking at the name of the challenger facing Sword Saint Ryleigh, Gracia's expression hardened.

So that's where you were hiding··· challenging the labyrinth.

MintChocoIsDelicious. A hidden high-ranker. Famous for never revealing himself in any public setting. Gracia had assumed he would not challenge the Abyss Labyrinth — it was far too easy an environment for one's identity to be exposed. And yet he had appeared. Appeared, and planted his spoon in the Phase 4 that Gracia himself had progressed.

You think you can clear what I could not?

It was absurd. Laughable.

Gracia knew MintChocoIsDelicious. He knew the man was a top-tier corpse handler. More precisely, he dealt in jiangshi. Those who affixed talismans to corpses and set them in motion were called Spirit Binders, or so he had heard. Frankly, Gracia did not know the difference between jiangshi arts and ordinary undead······ but Sword Saint Ryleigh's Phase 4 was not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something a handful of jiangshi could handle. That man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would log out soon enough, just like the Empire's Three Swords.

At that very moment—

What now?

"······ Unique-grade crafting?"

A world announcement, dropping out of nowhere while his head was already pounding. World announcements were reserved for events capable of shifting the world's foundations — or for the appearance of something equally momentous. The crafting of a new Unique-grade item was no exception. And from this, one thing was clear.

A Player crafted Unique-grade equipment.

The one who completed that craft was a Player. When a Pangenia native crafted Unique-grade gear, no world announcement appeared.

But who?

Identifying who possessed Unique-grade equipment was critically important. Gear bearing the name Unique was used by individuals, yet wielded the power of an entire legion.

Furthermore—

A new Unique. That means it was not made from the materials Wilhelm dropped.

The materials Wilhelm had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dropped after dying in the Great Expedition. Several Players had purchased those from the Golden Rule Shop and used them to craft Unique-grade equipment. But none of those had been new.