Transmigration Labyrinth (3)
Hundreds of monsters chased us through the darkness. Their pursuit carved mindless straight lines, blind and devoid of any intelligence. I ran at the head of that endless column, lungs burning, legs pumping.
When a monster lurched around the corner to block our path, I planted my lead foot and drove every ounce of momentum into a savage kick. The impact hit like a cannon. The creature vomited blood and tumbled away, but the horde behind it immediately poured into the gap I had created. I could not stop to fight. There were simply too many.
No matter how strong I was, no matter how fine my weapon, one man could not survive against such numbers. Even with the environment on my side, survival was not guaranteed. No matter how fast or powerful I became, I could not defend every direction at once, and I could only kill one at a time.
So I kept running. Even if my own survival were assured, the problem remained: if I lived, Sera and Vertea would die. The knowledge that Sera was a fake did nothing to dull that truth. She carried Vertea naturally in her arms while the halfling, nestled against her, followed close behind me.
Corner after corner, past the L-shaped corridor, I spotted soldiers already in position, waiting for us. Chinese uniforms. Rifles raised in perfect unison, barrels steady and merciless.
“Vertea!”
My servant did not hesitate. The instant the words left my mouth she condensed the flames she had been scattering behind us. A roaring fireball streaked forward on a tail of fire and slammed into their defensive line. The explosion devoured the air itself, a roaring inferno that tore the formation apart far more brutally than any grenade. But she could not do it again. Vertea had already reached her limit.
Through my micro-current I felt her small body trembling in Sera’s embrace. Sword in hand, I stepped forward to meet the soldiers who were still staggering upright, rifles swinging toward us. Instead of a heavy waist-driven thrust I simply extended the raised blade. It punched through one man’s chest. I twisted and ripped it free. The blood that should have sprayed everywhere instead flowed along the sword, lengthening the blade with a crimson edge.
“Sera!”
She leapt without crouching, rising far higher than our enhanced bodies should have allowed. I spun, whipping the elongated blood-sword in a perfect horizontal arc at the nearest pursuer. There was no sound—only a single, flawless cut. The same horizontal slash I had watched my daughter practice countless times. The same motion that let her trade blows with a Holy Knight hundreds of times her weight. She had never trained it herself, yet she could replicate that single movement with perfect fidelity.
Power rose from her ankles, traveled through her entire body, and exploded outward. The blood-red blade accelerated, shearing through waists, collarbones, and necks before exiting the other side. I did not understand the principle, but a sword made of blood possessed terrifying cutting power. The pursuing monsters faltered.
A single breath was all the swing required. If I let the wave of enemies swallow me I would never escape, so I kept moving. The moment I turned my back the micro-current painted the presence of the monsters right behind me in vivid detail. My condition was good. Sword resting on my shoulder, I poured on more speed and Sera matched me stride for stride. Her leaping power and endurance were both better than I remembered. The submachine gun in her hands barked with dull, heavy thumps, knocking the fastest pursuers off our trail.
Still too many.
I stretched my micro-current forward while I ran. The corridor stretched on forever—bending right, then left, then arrow-straight again. Nothing blocked the path ahead, yet the silence felt ominous. There were no branching paths, no way to double back.
Maybe I should barricade us inside a break room and fight? No. Impossible. Even if I cut down six with every swing I could not seal the corridor. The sheer number of monsters flooding the hallway was enough to draw a weak sound from my own throat.
“Master.”
Vertea’s voice came from Sera’s shoulder as we ran.
“Please leave this unit behind.”
I glanced back. She was panting, cold sweat pouring down her already deathly pale face.
“This unit will block them.”
I frowned. Still breathing hard, she opened her right hand.
“So now—”
“Shut up.”
The words came out sharper than I intended. I understood exactly what she meant. She intended to burn every last ember of her flame and take as many monsters with her as possible. In one sense it was rational—her flames were powerful and perfectly suited for wide-area annihilation. If she used them well the monsters might never get past the resulting inferno, and I would be safe.
But the price was the death of someone I cared about.
“But this unit’s life… has always existed solely for Master’s glory—”
“Do I look like the kind of bastard who would be happy with that kind of sacrifice?”
I did not want to be angry. It is painful to shout at someone who willingly offers her life for you, who trusts you, who only wants to be useful. Yet I had to be angry. Sacrifice has no meaning. It leaves scars on the living and the dead never return. I knew that truth too well. I knew how hard it was to keep living afterward, how empty the heart felt every time you looked at the space they once occupied. I had regretted it more times than I could count, chewed on those memories until they cut like glass.
“Never say anything like that again.”
“But…”
Sacrifice has no value. If you have the strength and the will to throw your life away, use that will to find a solution instead. I believed it with my whole heart, and even now, trapped in a dead end, that belief did not waver.
I looked up at the corridor that twisted strangely and rose upward. Office desks hung from the walls; some had already fallen and lay in broken piles on the floor. Behind us the monsters howled closer.
“Master…”
“Shh.” Sera gently covered Vertea’s mouth. The halfling looked startled at first, but soon quieted and simply watched me.
It would be a waste not to use it. Better to take the risk than be too late.
“I’m calling the lightning.”
The ampoule was still in my pocket. Even if my muscles melted and my brain suffered damage, it could be healed. Anything was better than dying here. Anything was better than letting someone I cherished die for me.
Watching the blood blade scatter into droplets on the floor, I gripped my sword with both hands and turned. The monsters were still some distance away, but time was short. I prepared to pull the kill switch inside me and took a long, steadying breath.
Today, no one dies here.
That was the moment I set my stance.
“Ha Jinwoo—!”
A voice called from directly above. Sera and I looked up at the same time. Remy stood there.
“Here! I’m lowering a rope—grab it and climb!”
He vanished for a second, then tossed down a thick line long enough to reach our ankles.
“Sera, take Vertea and go first.”
“Understood. Jinwoo, you…”
“No,” Vertea interrupted. “This unit recommends that Master ascend first.”
I frowned, mouth already opening to argue.
“This unit is not trying to die. This unit has a method. Please believe in this unit.”
Still sweating coldly, Vertea slid from Sera’s arms. Both of the halfling’s small hands were already wreathed in roaring flame.
“This unit will simply… do what it can…”
The flames in her palms surged, growing larger. The instant I saw it I knew—this was the same fire she had used to protect me the day we first met. A secret technique that drew out every last drop of her strength until nothing remained.
The flames roared like an angry swarm of hornets. The moment her hands touched the floor they fell silent, holding their breath. Then the space itself seemed to inhale with a deep, heavy rumble.
And the world ignited.
Flames erupted from the ground in a blazing pillar. Vertea collapsed, completely spent, while the inferno rose like a scar that might never fade from the world. The heat was so intense that even enhanced super-soldiers like Sera and me would have struggled. The monsters that had been closing in screamed as one, burned, and stopped moving. Many still remained, but we had bought time.
I met Sera’s eyes.
“Go up first.”
“…Understood.”
She wanted an explanation but said nothing more, simply grabbing the rope and climbing. I watched her ascend, then gathered Vertea into my arms. My strength was greater than Sera’s, and the blessing helped. It made more sense for me to carry her. Vertea was light despite her mature curves.
Holding the exhausted halfling, I seized the rope and leapt. Instead of the light jump I expected, my body soared upward with surprising ease. Monsters that had broken through the flames swarmed beneath my feet, reaching up with claws and jaws. None of them touched me. I kicked off the wall instead of the hanging desk, and with only two leaps I stood beside Remy.
My body felt strangely light. It was not that my power had increased—it was as if my physical weight had decreased. While I stood there dazed, Vertea whispered against my chest, still panting.
“Halflings like this unit… receive the blessing of the earth and move more freely from its touch.”
The earth’s touch. At any other time I would have asked for clarification, but now I understood. Halflings, this small race, were less affected by gravity.
I caught my breath beside Remy as he hauled the rope back up. We had made it by the narrowest margin.
*
“It is not a rare phenomenon. The labyrinths themselves tend to behave this way.”
Remy’s voice was low and brief, as always.
“Every labyrinth forms according to its ruler’s memories. The Transmigration Labyrinth is different. It forms according to the memories of every being inside it.”
He gazed into the distance. The fox ears atop his head twitched.
“My wife and daughter appeared as well. But I knew they lived in Dongjak District, so I was able to reject them.”
“Your wife and daughter, yet you could still do that?”
“They were fakes. Not the real ones. What does it matter?”
Cold-blooded. I would not have been able to do the same. When I stared at him, his narrowed eyes had already shifted toward Sera. She was tending to Vertea, who lay beside the campfire looking ready to faint.
“That woman?”
“…She is my wife.”
I felt Remy’s gaze return to me.
“Should you not deal with her first?”
That would be the normal response. He spoke quietly, but I knew Sera had heard. She was a super soldier, after all. Even after hearing, she remained calm. Only the corners of her mouth rose and fell in a bitter smile.
“Sera knows she is fake. I know it too. But she chose to help me.”
“You believe that?”
“I believe. More precisely, I trust the version of her that exists in my memories. I trust the time we spent together. I trust the effort I made to remember her in her most beautiful form.”
“…I hope you do not get hurt.”
So did I. I swallowed the words I did not say aloud and asked another question.
“What about Alice, Kiyara, and Pon?”
“I found Kiyara. She is scouting nearby. Alice and Pon still need to be located.”
“Then…”
“Rest first. Alice and Kiyara have ways to hide themselves, and Pon can take care of himself. We do not know what will appear next, so conserve your strength.”
I could only nod. I had already seen the worst, after all. Immortal Koschei—the strongest super soldier and the most terrible existence I knew. I had ended him with a single shot. The same Koschei who would not have died even if I emptied dozens of shotgun shells and followed up with Astrape had fallen in one attack. If he appeared again I might have to stake everything I had. Even my previous victory had been little more than luck. So yes, I would rest.
I excused myself from Remy and returned to the campfire. Sera looked up at me.
“Jinwoo.”
“Sera.”
“Want to rest? I can lend you my lap.”
“…Thank you.”
At the mention of a lap pillow Vertea’s eyes opened. Her gaze was strange. Her face was usually expressionless, so it was hard to read her emotions. I looked at her for a moment, then spoke.
“You fought well.”
She blinked. The exhausted look did not suit her long lashes or doll-like features; it made her seem pitiable.
“The one you fought was notorious even in my world. He was a real bastard. Just surviving was doing your best. You can rest deeply now.”
I offered the comfort as I sat by the fire. Vertea’s eyes snapped wide open, an expression of disbelief on her face. It was an odd look. I was not usually stingy with praise.
“Master.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“Have you… met that person before?”
I did not understand the question and remained silent. Vertea stared at me with trembling eyes—rare for her. Anger, suspicion, and shock all swirled in that gaze. Still she asked,
“Truly… truly, is it the same person Master saw?”
Something was wrong. Before I could fully process the faint sense of unease, Vertea’s small hand grasped mine.
“Master.”
Her pleading tone made me nod before I realized it. She let out a soft “Ah,” exhaled, and closed her eyes. A long time passed before she opened them again. On that normally expressionless face she wore a deep frown.
“What this unit fought was the master of the extremist faction of the Church of Darkness.”
Her fingers tightened on my collar, trembling.
“It is Immortal Koschei.”