The Perilous Ascent
"...that's what I'm saying."
If the Kelenken hadn't even noticed them, it meant they were pretty far off. It was Allen's polite way of saying they had no right to claim ownership.
Stung by Allen's words, the man's tone softened a bit.
"Just one mana stone and the path opens. So hand it over."
"Don't talk nonsense. If you'd found the door while we were chatting, you'd be there by now."
"Without a compass, that hidden door doesn't even register on scans. How long do you think it'd take to find it?"
With eight in their party, they figured they had the upper hand and kept pressing. They seemed to think overwhelming Allen's group in spirit would convince them, but anyone who'd made it this deep wasn't that easy to bully.
"Just let's go. They're only three."
"What're you talking about?"
"Just three of 'em made it down here. And one's an old guy with two kids."
"One might be questionable, but the other's a dwarf. You blind?"
They grumbled and wandered off. No one knew if they were just yelling for someone to complain to or putting on a show in case anyone was watching.
Only after they vanished from sight and sound did Taylor sheathe his mana sword at his waist.
"You gotta make your bullshit logical at least. What's with these explorers these days acting like whiny brats? Back in my time, we were rough around the edges but had our heads screwed on straight..."
"You're talking just like Mother Nun."
As Shiba chimed in, Allen disassembled the Kelenken. More precisely, the two mechanical arms on his back harvested the spoils.
The Kelenken was a type of terror bird—terror meaning fear. One look at it and any ordinary person would shake in their boots.
Even standing still, it towered over 2 meters. Stretching its legs and neck would make it even taller, and its beak could swallow a person's head and torso in one gulp.
It'd make for a good matchup against a petrified cockatrice with its stone-turning ability sealed.
"Even if they're extinct now, these things used to roam free back in the day, right?"
"Titanoboa, dire wolves, Kelenken. No idea how our ancestors survived them."
"How did the labyrinth's creators even implement creatures like this?"
"If I knew that, I'd build my own labyrinth. How's the mana stone size? Need to hunt more?"
Allen shook his head at Taylor's question.
"This size is plenty."
He'd run into parties before who wanted to pool their stones, but he'd always refused. The collector's compass needed to be awakened without any funny business.
"Gotta claim good intel first."
Attaching the mana stone to the compass, it melted smoothly away, and the needle floating inside the transparent crystal began spinning wildly.
"Don't build up hype just to point at nothing, yeah?"
"Can't help it if it does. Expecting special results every expedition is unrealistic."
Shiba nodded in agreement with Allen.
"Brother Allen is right. Desires aren't fulfilled easily. In technical terms, it's the greed sensor."
"Who even says that? Is it really jargon?"
"Heard it a lot in explorer communities."
"Drop it."
Finally, the needle stopped, pointing slightly left of their forward path. Raising their gaze slowly, they spotted the peak they'd first seen upon entering the 23rd layer.
The 23rd layer had a tall, rugged mountain at its center, surrounded by forests and plains. The peak was a climber's dream—or nightmare. In other words, scaling it any other way was damn near impossible.
"That's a brutal climb. No choice, though."
"Brother. If a door appears on a mountain, how do explorers get up there?"
"Doors don't spawn up there normally. Thinking like that, this compass is definitely suspicious. And that illusion Allen mentioned last time."
Arriving at the base, Allen craned his neck to look up. It was a spot that perfectly fit the term "sheer cliff face." A jagged rock spire loomed like a roughly hewn cylinder jammed into the ground.
No bolts for purchase, no handy ropes. Since primeval forests and caves were part of the labyrinth, they absorbed any foreign objects if no explorers were nearby.
Glancing around, Allen's eyes shifted to where a small pebble tumbled down. High above, a tiny dot moved. His left eye zoomed in, clarifying its identity.
A mountain goat with modest horns navigated the cliff. Its finger-sized horns belied a thick neck and bulging muscles that were anything but modest.
Allen pointed at the goat.
"If it senses climbers, does it just charge?"
"That's why explorers avoid this place. Wanna see another one?"
Turning as Taylor suggested, a massive shadow swept by. Even from afar, the word "huge" came to mind for the raptor.
Flashing sharp talons and beak, it ignored the goat and flew toward the peak's far side.
"Good thing we didn't stick around..."
"Shame, though."
Allen and Taylor spoke at once, then eyed each other.
"What's a shame?"
"Anything we could catch would be good. I was prepping anyway..."
At Allen's gesture, the panther perched in a nearby tree leaped down silently, despite its bulk. It prowled near its master.
"Nice try, but they only target climbers. Ignore anything just wandering."
"So something's up top? Feels like they're guarding it."
"Climbed it a few times before—great view, nothing else. Hmm... with this compass, maybe different now. Prep to head up."
As Shiba hid the cart and pulled out ropes to tie them together, Allen drew his rune pen.
This time, the runes were [Adhesion] and [Friction]. Even if his fingers slipped, the runes would provide support.
"Vertical run possible?"
"As long as I don't jump. Gotta keep at least one foot planted."
"I know that much..."
Uwaaaah...
Then, a faint scream echoed from afar—in the direction the raptor had flown.
Taylor's gaze naturally turned to Allen, as if asking his opinion.
"Let's check it out."
"Knew you'd say that."
"Brother Allen, have you no intention of heeding Mother's teachings? With all that goodness in your actions, she'd surely approve."
"Don't corrupt the innocent—worry about yourself."
"Are you saying the Mother God Church is wrong? I can't let that slide."
"Not the church—you're the problem."
"Well, uh..."
Shiba shut his mouth like a sinking ship.
After twenty minutes of trekking, Allen reached the scream's source and spotted an explorer sprawled on the ground, tended by his comrades. A kneeling woman brushed dirt from his body.
"Told you not to climb like that."
"Think of the view from up there. And this won't kill me."
"Know how many guys have said the same as their last words? Proper gear and shield generators are essential for a safe climb... What's the problem?"
The woman scolding the man spotted Allen and narrowed her eyes warily.
"Heard the scream, came to check. Glad you're okay."
"Seen enough? Move along."
"Hey, they seem nice—why so prickly?"
"Because of you!"
"Appreciate the concern. Rare to meet folks like you. An explorer who scales cliffs blindfolded, and now this—fun day for encounters. Safe explorations."
The man left those words and vanished with his party.
Allen and Taylor exchanged looks, reacting to a key phrase.
"Someone else?"
"Two people pulling stunts like that?"
It was almost certainly Sion. Allen had cataloged countless explorers' faces and traits, but he'd never seen anyone match her antics.
Taylor glanced up at the sheer cliff.
"Too coincidental for chance. Bet we're headed the same place."
"Explains ditching the guards solo."
"If Sion's competing, this'll be tough..."
"Still, let's go. Wouldn't want senior handling it alone..."
"Wait, senior? Since when?"
"Same age, but she liked it. You hated 'grandpa' at first too."
"Brother, that's fair—why get mad? 'Strong denial means affirmation,' as the ancient sages taught."
"Shut it. Allen, keep going."
"Whatever's there, even a fragment would help big time."
A regular mage? Maybe. But touching the collector's compass marked real skill—infamy aside.
Like the guard's illusion vision, this might yield similar insights.
Truth was, the biggest reason was simpler. Allen was curious, and he wanted answers. That mattered most.
Pressing against the cliff, his mechanical arms sharpened, digging into the rock. They moved in sequence, hauling his body upward.
End
Rock climbing is an intensely challenging sport. Bluntly put, it's dangerous, difficult, and a real sweat-fest.
Climbers need tough bodies and minds, plus training, gear, and skills—even with the first two.
So how many did Allen check? Body? Out. Training? Never heard of it. No point learning skills without the physique.
All he had were mind and tech—purely those two. But overwhelming tech covered the rest, making the climb easy.
Mechanical arms adhered to the wall, four fingers gripping rock or cracks fiercely.
Thunk!
A dull thud, faint rock dust spraying. A metal rod extended from what passed for a palm, burrowing into the surface for solid support. Then the next arm repeated.
With free hands, Allen slotted bolts into the holes and linked ropes.
Glancing down briefly, the panther and crate below looked like dots. Taylor, flush against the wall nearby, craned his neck up.
"Slow it down a bit."
"You said she ran up, so I gotta go faster."
"How the hell does she run this? Even goats couldn't. You're spry for a bookworm. Monk training include climbing?"
Taylor glanced down to see Shiba keeping pace, sweaty but unfazed.
"Racial trait, I think."
Dwarves loved mountains and mining; get them into it, and they'd turn a shallow dig into a vertical shaft. Climbing meant finger strength, and their thick forearms helped.
A breeze cooled the sweat on his skin. Allen's arms moved again.
"Got time to chat? Heading up."
"Gimme some chocolate. Sugar crash..."
"Eat quick. Prime time—no goats or raptors. She probably cleared 'em on the way."
No corpses meant at least thirty minutes to an hour had passed. Superhumans with mana could do plenty in that window.
"Mind set, they could cover 40km in under an hour easy."
"How do you know that?"
"Compared her guard-killing moves to explorer physique data. She's Depth 4-5, as expected."
He infused mana into his voice against the wind—loud but not attention-grabbing.
Finally, not a trace of vegetation