The Beheading Rabbit
Two weeks had passed since the deal, spent mostly in recovery. The healing was progressing smoothly. The restlessness was starting to set in, but I could walk without a wheelchair now. My arm hadn't fully regenerated yet, but the recovery was faster than expected. The skin still hadn't grown back, and some muscle and joint tissue remained unformed. Still, this was a solid improvement.
“You really don't have to feed me…”
“Just open your mouth.”
Even so, Marie was being overly protective. Her initial venomous attitude and sharp tongue remained, but the direction seemed to have shifted somewhat. Not that the cooking was bad. It was Vertea’s work, after all.
I obediently accepted the spoon my daughter offered and swallowed the stew. The short handle meant her fingers occasionally brushed my lips, but I paid no mind to such trivial things. It wasn't uncommon.
“Don't you have work to do?”
“I already took care of it.”
“Isn't the family head supposed to be busy?”
“…What? Do you want me gone that badly?”
My daughter pouted, lips pushed forward in a sulk. Even then, I couldn't exactly tell her to leave. Not that I had any intention of doing so.
“That's not what I meant. I just feel bad if I'm keeping you from important matters.”
“Then don't worry about it. Just pretend you don't know.”
“How can a father say something like that?”
“You don't even care that much.”
“How could I not care about you?”
“You talk a good game.”
After spending a few days with Marie, I was beginning to get a vague sense of her character. Maribella, the head of the Blood Clan and my daughter, was exceptionally competent. She was intelligent, quick-witted, elegant, and graceful enough to naturally earn the support of her people. But beyond that, she was deeply pragmatic and instinctively knew what was best for the clan's future and what would become a burden or loss. She truly was raised from birth to become the family head. And remarkably, she didn't even suffer from the typical weakness of family heads—a lack of combat ability.
“You're going to watch again today… aren't you?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmph. Only when it suits you, you answer right away?”
“Your father has a lot to learn.”
Maribella was the greatest swordsman among the Blood Clan. I'd felt it during the fight with the Holy Knight, but her technique was on par with mine. With that massive frame and such extremely refined swordsmanship, she would be impossible for most to face. Countless Blood Clan knights had been bisected without even managing to block her. Even I had realized during our spar that she held the upper hand in weapon technique. Though I was superior with daggers, marksmanship, and hand-to-hand combat.
Marie, who could exchange blows with a Holy Knight using pure swordsmanship, was undoubtedly an outstanding swordswoman. That was why I observed her training sessions—to learn about the sword, one of the most common weapons in this labyrinth.
“Just watching won't teach you anything…”
“It does for your father. Impressive, right?”
“Stop bragging.”
“I'm serious. Even if it were bragging, can't a father watch his daughter train?”
“…If you weren't my father, I would have severed your tendons by now.”
Her words were harsh, but it was essentially permission. After finishing my meal, I did as I'd said and watched her train.
Two Blood Clan members faced off with training swords—though by human standards, they were quite heavy greatswords. Marie's opponent was a young-looking vampire, yet his demeanor suggested considerable age. It left a strong impression.
They faced each other. Swords moved. Feet advanced, crossed, and the blunt blades accelerated toward one another. A thunderous clash rang out.
As I watched with my arms crossed, Vertea approached and stood beside me.
“Is the Blood Clan's weapon technique usually like this?”
“This unit is not well-versed in weapon techniques, but this unit understands it to be so.”
The Blood Clan's weapon techniques were orthodox. They emphasized fundamentals. Their footwork was standard yet carried sufficient power, allowing them to stably receive enemy attacks and counter with ease. Even their thrusting, withdrawing, and application of weapons were all built upon a foundation of rigorous basics. It made me realize why they were such reliable mercenaries. Overwhelming physical ability, regeneration, and weapon techniques grounded in fundamentals that produced clear results in any situation. The harmony of all these elements gave their fighting style an impression of perfection—flawless, without gaps or inconsistency.
Corben's techniques had resembled Eastern styles, but even that had given me trouble. In contrast, what they pursued felt closer to the Holy Knights. Not that I'd seen many. I could see how innate physical ability inevitably led to this. And more than that, it made me reflect on what I lacked.
I was deficient in medieval weapon techniques. The gun-based hand-to-hand combat I'd learned and mastered had many shortcomings in this world. If my skills had been better, I wouldn't have needed to push my body and brain to the point of total muscle and neural damage.
That was why I watched my daughter's training every day, committing the techniques to memory. Fortunately, as I recovered, my micro-current detection had returned, so there was no problem absorbing the lessons.
The foundation of all martial arts begins with the feet. I analyzed the tendencies of power flowing from Marie's advancing steps, retreating steps, ankle rotations, and the force behind them, tracing how it traveled through her entire body.
Clang!
The training sword bounced away with a loud metallic ring and embedded itself in the floor. Marie caught her breath and lowered her blade.
“Next—”
She turned to find her next opponent and froze.
“My lady.”
“…What is it?”
The Blood Clan member who approached—clearly a close aide—made my daughter frown slightly. Tilting her head in puzzlement, she murmured,
“But I didn't have any scheduled visitors today.”
“Well… they came without notice. They are requesting an audience with both you and… the Incarnation.”
A sudden visitor who knew who I was and wanted to meet me. And someone with no one capable of turning them away. I had a pretty good idea who it was. I pushed off the wall I'd been leaning against, and we headed to the office.
The office, where a Holy Knight had once smashed through the wall, looked exactly the same except for the replaced furniture. The labyrinth's consistency was truly a blessing.
“Aren't you a little late?”
A Dark Elf sat at the office table, swinging her legs. It was Bishara. I'd later learned from my daughter that she was the strongest of the Dark Elves—known as the Poison Spider—and their leader. It was strange that a leader would come alone in person, but the speed I'd witnessed from her back then was only slightly slower than when I'd become lightning. Having companions would probably just slow her down. I couldn't blame her for that.
“Hello, handsome Incarnation of Darkness.”
“Yeah, hello.”
“Sit down first. I have something to discuss.”
“…Aren't you the guest here?”
Marie let out a dry laugh as if she couldn't believe this, but Bishara ignored her and waited at the table until Marie and I sat down.
“Where's that little mystic?”
“This unit will remain standing.”
“Fine. Then… shall we get to business?”
She was close. Still in her fluttering dress, she swung her legs and hooked her high heel over my thigh. Then she stared at me intently.
“Mm. You really are handsome.”
“…Thanks?”
“This should be fine to entrust.”
Her tone was odd. What kind of request was this? Seeing my puzzled expression, Bishara gave a faint smile.
“You see, I have a request for you.”
“If it involves combat, I'm still not in any shape for it. My arm's like this, after all.”
“Don't worry. There's no need to fight. In fact… you'd die if you did.”
Coming from a Dark Elf who'd witnessed me defeat a Holy Knight, those words carried weight. A request to do something to an opponent who could kill me if we fought? Only a madman would accept that.
“From your expression, I think you get the idea… but hear me out first.”
Bishara frowned slightly as she gestured.
“How should I put this? There's an item to deliver and an item to retrieve, but the other party isn't being very cooperative.”
“From who? And from what you're saying, it sounds like combat will be unavoidable.”
“Hmm. First… do you know the power structure of the autonomous district?”
The question was clearly directed more at Marie than at me. It was as if she were asking whether she'd explained it properly. I answered first.
“Only the basics. Dark Elves, loyalists, orcs, Blood Clan, demons, man-eating beastkin, and succubi, right? Each has their own territory.”
“Correct. The Blood Clan is led by young lady Maribella here, and the Dark Elves by me. Do you know who leads the man-eating beastkin?”
When I shook my head, Bishara reached for my chin, only to be gently pushed away by Marie's hand.
“The answer is the Beheading Rabbit, Lyshe.”
It was a name I'd never heard. However…
“…Bishara, you can't mean—”
Marie's reaction was uneasy.
“Yep, that's right. Some of my children went to collect payment from Lyshe and ended up dead. We need to recover their belongings, retrieve the payment… and while we're at it, I thought it would be good to have you get acquainted.”
I didn't understand. I would die if I became hostile, and the leader of man-eating beastkin who placed such importance on a man's appearance? The cause and effect didn't seem to connect. Besides, the title itself was ominous. The Beheading Rabbit? Since when were rabbits man-eaters? Maybe it was twisted because this was a labyrinth, but that didn't seem to be the case.
“You'll understand once you meet her, but… Lyshe is very particular. She likes handsome men. She captures and eats the ones she falls in love with, and if they don't please her, she cuts off their heads.”
“…Oh…”
“And this part will probably interest you even more.”
Bishara leaned forward, meeting my eyes.
“Lyshe is one of the only four Master-class adventurers at the pinnacle of the Adventurer Guild.”
The Beheading Rabbit's Transaction
📍 Objective: Deliver goods to and retrieve goods from Lyshe in Guro District
🎁 Note: Combat is not recommended. Death is highly probable.
The rest of the details were only shared after I accepted. The Beheading Rabbit, Lyshe. A Master-class adventurer. A powerhouse capable of severing even a dragon's neck with her bare hands. One of the very few ancient beasts—long-lived beastkin of the continent. She liked love, romance stories, and handsome men. She disliked women.
“Our Dark Elves are all women, you see. Elves are the same… but every child we bear is a Dark Elf.”
That's why the Dark Elves who approached Lyshe to talk ended up losing their heads shortly after. And Bishara herself couldn't go.
“Lyshe is incredibly strong. Even I would struggle. If she and I fought, it would turn into a war between our organizations.”
I couldn't help but feel some anxiety. Ancient beast was ultimately a broad term. As Vertea had explained:
“Ancient beasts are commonly divided into two categories. Demonic beasts and divine beasts.”
I didn't need to be told which category Lyshe fell into. Why something like that had taken root in Guro District, I didn't know. But the restlessness was starting to get to me. More than anything, I wanted to know the gap between myself and one of the pinnacles of adventurers.
“How does one become a Master adventurer?”
“Only an extremely small number of extraordinarily powerful and dangerous adventurers earn the title.”
“Are the other Master adventurers similarly dangerous?”
“No. As far as this unit knows, only the Beheading Rabbit Lyshe is extremely dangerous.”
Vertea answered my questions as she followed along, while Marie trailed behind with a slightly furrowed brow. I wondered if it was appropriate for a family head to step forward like this, especially since Lyshe disliked women. But when I asked if she was worried about her father, she had no choice but to come. It seemed my earlier comment about magic had been a landmine. The only way to make up for it was to endure. Besides, Bishara had said:
“Lyshe doesn't kill men she likes easily. And while she has no hesitation about killing, she doesn't slaughter indiscriminately. If she did, she would have been subjugated long ago. It's just… our children are particularly disliked by her.”
I had no choice but to trust those words and endure. If it came down to it, I could step in. I opened my mouth in the car crossing through Guro District's streets, trying to ease the tension.
“Who are the others?”
“The Scientist Tilia, Guild President Jin, and the Demon King Kurte.”
And then I stared blankly at the unfamiliar person who had somehow ended up sitting beside me. The Blood Clan knight driving in front and Vertea both widened their eyes, looking into the rearview mirror. Marie and I stared at the woman who had naturally settled between us.
She was a peculiar woman. Snow-white hair, blood-red eyes. Yet those eyes held no light whatsoever, giving off a chilling aura. Her gentle features didn't match that at all. Long rabbit ears that twitched atop her head, brown skin, a dress that clung tightly to her body, and a pure white cloak. She gave off an impression that was somehow harmless yet deeply unsettling. And yet, my instincts were screaming danger, setting off every alarm bell in my head. A being where innocence and dread coexisted.
That woman looked at me.
“You're handsome.”
“…Thanks?”
Lyshe smiled brightly at my response.
“Nice to meet you, Incarnation of Darkness.”