Field Learning (3)
“None.”
“Still as curt as ever.”
A brief silence fell, broken by the thudding footsteps echoing off the cave floor in a discordant rhythm.
As the students glanced around warily, Allen silently drew his weapon. Professor Oros nodded knowingly, as if he recognized the sound.
“Perfect timing. I was starting to get bored with nothing happening.”
The solid wall rippled, and underground dwellers burst forth—like animals hatching from eggs.
The college students grimaced in disgust, but Professor Oros looked delighted.
He guided students, of course, but at his core, he was a researcher. Such a reaction was only natural.
The enemies that appeared: two underground dwellers, three automatons.
The guard captain—a man—surveyed the foes and raised two fingers.
Two guards responded to the captain’s signal. Blue light flowed along their weapons.
One with a mana sword, the other with aura.
Allen was reminded anew of the guards’ exceptional skill. No wonder five of them escorted fifteen students.
There was no need for Allen to step in. The automatons and underground dwellers were dispatched swiftly.
As the two guards swung their weapons, blue trails sliced through the air, and the enemies’ bodies disintegrated along those paths. The brazen underground dwellers collapsed without landing a single proper counterattack.
“They’re incredibly strong.”
“That’s all tuition money,” Carlson whispered, continuing as if he hadn’t said a word. “The students know they might get a little banged up coming down here. But serious injuries would be a problem.”
“Do the students join the fights too?”
“Some do, some don’t. Look over there—that one’s shaking like a leaf? Kids like that help most by staying out of the way. She’s a freshman, same age as you.”
“Experience will change that.”
“Yeah. I was the same on my first labyrinth dive.”
It was common knowledge that the labyrinth drove modern civilization, but that didn’t mean just anyone went exploring. Labyrinth delves were grueling, dangerous, and filthy.
Oros laid the dead underground dweller on the floor and gathered the students. In the center of the circled students lay the body, flat on its back.
“Cleanly killed by cutting off its breathing.”
With that, Oros pressed the tip of a fairly large scalpel to the creature’s abdomen.
“Some of you may have seen these in textbooks or explorer samples.”
Before he finished speaking, his hand swept from top to bottom. The underground dweller’s innards were laid bare, unfiltered, in the students’ eyes.
Some grimaced in nausea, others pulled up masks or turned away entirely. Oros pressed on regardless.
“Internally, the organs, skeleton—nearly identical to ours. Millium student? What did I say last time, pointing to the underground dweller diagram?”
“That their genes are so similar it wouldn’t be strange if they were made by us. But strangely, it’s impossible.”
“Exactly. The labyrinth’s creator used an unknown mystery on the underground dwellers. Or rather, we presume it’s a mystery—no one has identified it. Perhaps it’s so vast we can’t recognize it even when it’s right in front of us.”
Even Allen, who had been focused only on the automatons, found this intriguing. He’d thought they were just human-shaped monsters, not that their genes were so similar.
Oros wiped the scalpel clean with an alcohol swab and stood.
“Some say they’re ancient humans who once walked this land—or might still live somewhere. But unproven, so it remains a hypothesis. I hope you scholars make the discovery of the century.”
“You could do it, Professor.”
“Haha. More than that, I want to know who created the labyrinth.”
He seemed to inspire the students’ dreams, yet Oros harbored an even grander one.
That was how scholars should be. Others’ discoveries were welcome, of course—but it was better if you were the one making them. Allen felt the same.
The exploration resumed. One guard returned from scouting and reported to Oros.
“A defensive outpost in the clearing? About ten of them...”
Oros glanced at the students and rolled his wrists and shoulders.
“Just spectating would be a waste of the ‘field learning’ name. Everyone, prepare.”
The bolt from the blue: they were to join the fight. They’d come prepared mentally, but now that it was real, more students balked than expected.
Clap!
Oros’s clap rang out unusually loud. Mana infused the sound waves, snapping the dazed students’ heads around.
“With the guards and me here, what’s there to worry about?”
As he flexed his arm, his expedition suit bulged. Seeing arm muscles the size of a child’s torso, the students finally sighed in relief.
Meanwhile, Carlson stuck close to Allen, eyeing the mana bullet he was loading.
“Different from the ones at the gun shop. You made these too?”
“Yes. The one I’m holding...”
“Hold on, let me guess. Rune letters vary slightly per person, right? Loaded ones: [Condensation] and [Inundation]. The one in hand: [Freezing] and [Binding]. Am I right?”
“Spot on. [Explosion] would clear them fast, but it damages the parts. So I made separate ones for capture.”
They’d arrived at the outpost. The noise of the large group had alerted the underground dwellers, who bristled their spines toward them.
As the students braced with ragged breaths, a light sound came from behind.
Thud!
A fine mist rained down over the students’ heads. The spinning mana bullet scattered water in all directions—like a wet dog shaking itself off.
The slowly falling bullet splashed down with a wet plop. A distinctly different sound from the others.
Water rose just shy of the underground dwellers’ insteps. Before it fully dispersed, Allen fired the second bullet.
White snowflakes trailed its path. The bullet hit the puddle’s center, altering the water’s properties. Frozen white shackles clamped onto the automatons’ and dwellers’ legs.
The students turned. Allen pointed ahead in a calm tone.
“Just going to watch? Oh, and target the legs if you can. Blonde student— the buttstock goes on your shoulder, not your face.”
The ice shackles bound the underground dwellers and automatons perfectly. Even if they dodged, the blockade ahead tangled their formation.
Let’s observe for now.
Allen lowered his gun, keeping only mana bullets loaded.
The mana bullets created a binding field—no need to hack the automatons with his eyes. Hacking drained mental energy and mana massively; best reserved for true emergencies.
“Throttle on single shot...”
“Just spray burst fire. They’re not moving. Wanna bet who hits more knee joints?”
With the monsters suddenly frozen, the students—who’d had earthquakes in their pupils—regained their composure.
Psychological pressure varied with distance. At a safe range, and bound no less, their tension melted away.
The students opened fire on the now-target-like enemies. Feeling safer, their attacks grew bolder; some even switched to other weapons.
Not melee bludgeons or blades—ranged ones, still.
“Access memory edit, infuse mana...”
A chunk of solid earth floated before the muttering student. The EBI—an artificial brain—completed spells with just mana input.
Its convenience made it hugely popular. Attending university implied wealth; it’d be weirder not to have one.
The student thrust his hand forward. Stones spun around a now-blue bracelet and shot out.
Explorers preferred helmet forms near the brain for better performance, but these prioritized style: bracelets, gloves, drones, and more.
Lower specs, sure—but magic from ten-plus wasn’t to be scoffed at. Numbers equaled power.
Remembering Allen’s advice, they focused on legs. Every bound underground dweller and automaton slumped in place.
Oros had picked up an ice shard, rubbing it between his fingers. It resisted melting even in his warm hand.
“The mana bullet’s effect lasts impressively long. Feels like a waste using it here.”
In other words, it’d work fine even deeper.
Grateful for the praise, Allen remained expressionless. Success and acclaim aside, a dud bullet nagged at him. One of the three water shots had just thunked into the ground.
As Allen stayed quiet, Oros spoke again.
“Considering the duration, I’d guess a Grade 2 mana stone. Right?”
“...Yes. I split it.”
In truth, Allen’s mana bullets used a mere 100,000-coin Grade 1 mana stone as the core, supercharged with mana.
Grade 2 stones cost over a million coins. Even Allen, uninterested in wealth, couldn’t spam them without bankrupting himself.
Mana excess syndrome brought bodily frailty and shortened lifespan, but moments like this highlighted its perks.
Mid-thirties, maybe...
Severe mana deficiency syndrome killed in the early twenties. Allen had a bit more time, at least.
The Blood Flower of Yohwa might buy even more grace, but it was his problem—he couldn’t relax completely.
Die, and no more books. No more magitech.
Allen shook his head slightly and looked ahead. Cleanup was nearly done; students eased up. But Oros and the guards stared straight ahead.
Not mere vigilance—two hulking forms were rising behind a barricade of scrap metal.
Over three meters tall, wielding hammer-like bludgeons, with glaring red single eyes on their heads.
“Gatekeeper?”
“Gatekeepers on the 14th layer act like normal automatons, but these are different. Look closely; you’ll see.”
Oros shook his head at Allen’s offhand remark.
“Heavy infantry from below the 19th—on the 13th layer. As expected.”
“‘As expected’ means you anticipated this?”
Oros gave a slight smile before continuing. Meanwhile, the guards pulled the students back.
“Know the typhoon theory?”
“First I’ve heard of it.”
“Typhoons are disasters to human civilization but entirely natural. They move water, balance energy, purify the air. In the same vein, when incidents erupt in the labyrinth or great powers clash, anomalous phenomena spike.”
“Like an organism reacting to stimuli.”
“You grasp the point quickly. Recently, Chairman Marshall and a collector fought from the caves up to the surface. Like a typhoon stirring the labyrinth.”
Oros’s words implied he’d planned this field learning precisely to study the resulting anomalies.
A true seeker of knowledge would.
Allen shot him an agreeing look. Oros gently placed a thick hand on his shoulder and nodded.
Silent exchange between Allen and Oros. Carlson watched with a queasy expression.
Allen snapped to, sensing a prickling gaze from somewhere, and focused ahead.
The heavy infantry: underground dwellers in reinforced suits. Narrower joint range than full-machine gatekeepers, but piloted for trickier movement. Couldn’t miss the chance to observe.
“Shall we head to the front?”
Oros positioned Allen right beside the guards.
“Guards, take the right heavy infantryman, please.”