Storming the Mine Camp
“Because it’s a labyrinth.”
Taylor grinned, and Sion stepped forward.
“Right. This is the labyrinth.”
It wasn’t just some underground cave—it was another dimension entirely. No digging their way out, no opening spatial gates to escape.
“So no witnesses.”
“That’s a bit...”
Shiba agonized over the dilemma but ultimately stepped out of the tent. No matter how he spun it, his biggest drive was rescuing the captured miners.
“No choice but to unleash my killer instinct today. It’s only been a month since we descended the mountain, and it pains me to stumble into something like this.”
“You’re lookin’ at eatin’ a beast a day—what’re you on about?”
“That’s too harsh, Brother Taylor. Can’t you see the purity in my eyes?”
“You look just like a damn butcher... Gimme some space, it’s creepy.”
The four of them—plus the box shadowing close behind Allen—emerged from the tent, drawing the eyes of the patrolling soldiers for a moment.
Just then, an elf approached, clutching his elbow.
“Healer, you leaving already?”
“Still got business to handle... Where’s the wound?”
“Tried smashing an automaton with my fist. Tweaked my elbow.”
“Got it. This way.”
The elf knelt to align his height and extended his arm. Shiba paused at the sight of such obedient behavior.
“What’s wrong? Is it bad?”
“You look so meek—why work a place like this... Guess you can’t judge a book by its cover.”
“Huh?”
“And fists are used like this.”
Shiba yanked the elf’s arm. The elf, relaxed and off-balance from kneeling, was pulled right in—his jaw perfectly positioned.
Crack!
Shiba’s arm blurred, accompanied by the sound of something splitting. The elf crumpled to the ground.
A few onlookers blinked, slow to process the sudden violence.
“Let’s begin.”
At Allen’s signal, the group took positions. They’d made a scene on purpose—to draw all eyes for the miners’ sake.
“Come here.”
Beep!
The box emitted a short, sharp tone, extending a slender barrel from its midsection. Already loaded with mana bullets, it had been modded into a mobile launcher.
Allen pointed here and there with his fingers, and the box spewed mana bullets in every direction.
Pfsh! Pfsh! Pfsh!
The cute deflating sounds belied the devastation. Mana bullets scattered across the camp, igniting flames everywhere. The one aimed at the manager’s tent unleashed a massive blast that shook the earth.
A sudden blast of hot wind and red light washed over Taylor’s face.
“No bombs, huh?”
“These are mana bullets.”
“Same difference, ain’t it?”
“Similar words, but I pictured different things. Mana bullets have a narrow kill radius—bombs wipe out open spaces entirely.”
“...”
Taylor glanced at a mana bullet, then turned back to the chaos. This was just the beginning.
Proof came as the manager’s tent rubble stirred. Mana-forged blades sliced through the fabric, and the manager burst out.
Beyond a bit of soot, he looked unscathed—and furious.
“An attack? How many times did I say keep watch—”
His voice cut off. Following his men’s stares, he spotted the explorer party he’d just admitted.
Obvious culprits. Even if it stemmed from armory mismanagement, they’d caused it. With trouble brewing, he couldn’t dodge blame—and needed a scapegoat to lighten the load.
Decision made, the manager lowered his voice.
“Who’re you with? Albrey? MMCo?”
Rival energy corps, always eyeing mana stone mines without depletion worries.
“We were watching their moves... Doesn’t matter if you’re fixers or outside mercs. You didn’t know about this.”
His men’s morale had dipped from the surprise raid. A reliable ally now would mend that crack.
The manager’s eyes glowed blue, and a nearby tent rustled. Something massive stirred inside.
Thud! Thud!
Each step made the open ground and ceiling rumble. The tent slid away, revealing a quadruped tank.
“Rise, DT!”
DT-10: Dragon Turtle, tenth version. Its defenses were so solid, it was called a mobile fortress in wartime.
A dragon head on a turtle shell glared ferociously at Allen. Simultaneously, dorsal cannons spat blue flashes. Air compressed, dust billowing in a circle.
“Yah.”
Sion blocked Allen’s path. Aura clung to her raised sword. As the mana shell hurtled in, her blade slashed vertically.
The severed shell veered past her, pummeling the camp walls. The blast wind tousled her hair slightly.
“Want me to handle it?”
“No need.”
Allen's right eye scanned the battlefield; his left peered into complex machinery. Specifically, a recon spider had infiltrated the DT-10.
Where did that impenetrable armor and firepower come from? It guzzled mana—no running both at once. The spider slipped inside during the shield’s post-shot flicker.
‘The part reacting to the manager’s command must be the signal receiver.’
Nipper-like jaws yanked a cable; the tail connector jammed in.
Internal threats were always deadliest. Like how Allen’s group had breached the camp, rendering barriers useless.
Allen's view spun. He’d been standing in camp—now an unknown maze loomed, walls towering overhead.
Hackers often laced firewalls with illusion magic like this. Breach it, and the hacker won; fail, and you took damage—or worse, your mind shattered.
‘Find the exit to end it.’
Of course, guardians made leisurely searches impossible.
Crunch crunch!
Turning at the eerie noise, Allen saw a soccer-ball-sized monster clacking teeth-filled jaws as it approached. One bite, and your mind got shredded.
To it, Allen was a snack-sized morsel.
But Allen didn’t flee—he stood firm. He’d have bolted in panic before, but now he had backup.
A clear circle formed on his forehead. A distorted one centered on his left eye. Then a faint one on his right.
Taylor had taken ages to reach this point; Allen needed just over a month. Pure math: twenty times faster.
The monster gaped wide, tilting its round body to scoop Allen in.
That instant, the triad circles blazed. Brightest at the overlapping brow.
The light pierced the monster, exploding outward. It burst empty—nothing inside. Instead—
Crunch!
A giant walker stomped the maze. Its pilot: a now-colossal Allen.
Thud!
With a boom, Allen’s mind snapped back. Real time: barely five seconds. The slumped DT-10 lay still as a sleeping beast.
The manager, mid-boast, glanced back at the ominous sound.
“What the hell...”
There’d been a firewall—how? Worse, the woman who’d sliced his mana cannon remained.
‘Why her, on my watch... Out of the four, one damn woman’s the biggest threat.’
Cursing his superiors’ scheduling and the heavens for sending her, he heard footsteps from the tunnel ahead—heavy ones shaking the passage.
The manager’s face lit up.
“Hahaha! Bad timing for you!”
End
“What the hell’s goin’ on?”
Taylor’s question made Allen bite his lip. Weren’t the Hotshan reinforcements due later? The mana stone convoy had visited recently.
“Shift change ain’t till later... Ah, the lab...”
Taylor caught “lab” and bared his teeth.
“Defense force bastards. Even if policy’s hands-off with explorers and corps... Or they eatin’ cash up their asses?”
Meanwhile, Sion eyed the camp troops and her team, calculating. She glanced at the approaching tunnel, then murmured low.
“I’ll take that. Feels dangerous.”
“How danger—”
Before Allen finished, Sion vanished, leaving only wind that quickly dissipated.
With Sion gone, the manager’s face brightened—he figured three was no issue.
3 vs. 30 standoff. Shiba and Taylor traded words.
“Today’s the day I meet Mother. Wonder if paradise has fermented drinks.”
“Cut the grim bullshit and keep your head on straight.”
“But Brother...”
“Shut your trap! I trust ya.”
First to Shiba, then to Allen as Taylor charged. Shiba, frozen like a rookie, squeezed his eyes shut and followed.
No matter the numbers, Allen’s mind stayed calm. His eyes flicked to the camp’s streetlamps dotted everywhere.
They weren’t just lights. Another function: enhancement magic for recognized allies.
The lamps’ intensifying glow bathed the area. Just before 2 met 30, light beams engulfed the thirty.
“Good.”
“Cocky shits. What makes you think you can... Huh?”
Too late—they’d noticed the anomaly. Allen had long swapped the lamps’ engraved [Acceleration] and [Strength] for [Slow] and [Weak].
They could’ve resisted if aware, rejecting the buffs. But they’d already absorbed it body and soul.
Short prep time meant imperfect application sometimes—but that was fine.
Taylor raised his auto-shotgun at the sluggish foes.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Heavy recoil shook his modded flesh. Lead shot swarmed the enemy.
Human fights could turn ranged firefights fast—shields or reverse-field barriers essential.
Lockhart’s troops knew, each wielding buckler-like reverse-field shields. They raised them at the shotgun.
“Just a shotgun?”
Barrel looked suspiciously wide, but no big deal. That thought vanished.
Boom!
One shot shattered a shield; the next peppered flesh.
“Argh!”
“What’s wrong? Swapped the mana pack this morning...”
No time to think. A mana bullet slipped through the hole and detonated.
Kaboom!
Troops near the blast flew everywhere. Armor saved some, but limbs were often gone.
Into the growing chaos and smoke leaped Shiba—short legs bouncing nimbly.
“Repent!”
“Atone!”
“Confess!”
Each shout dropped a man. Jaws swelled red on the fallen. Some countered Shiba’s strikes.
“Freakin’ runt!”
“Such words cannot shake my training.”
The mana sword swung toward Shiba’s face