Descent into the Frozen Depths
Whether out of pride or blinded by greed, he'd only hired a small group.
Since Allen had already signed the contract, there was no room for complaint. He simply listened quietly to Hashy's words.
"For the sake of my family who... no, whose news has been cut off... we must succeed this time. We can't let their sacrifices be in vain."
"We'll do our best."
Labyrinth explorers were told not to chase danger, but the brains of people in this line of work were wired differently from ordinary folk right from the start. Allen, whose curiosity had been ignited, was no exception.
Hashy's gaze shifted to Taylor, who was observing the fog.
"Have you two finished your talk?"
"Wasn't much of a talk."
"I'd like the opinion of a veteran on this fog."
Would Rolf have brought it up for no reason? Even without knowing Taylor had worked for Breaker, they knew he'd been an explorer for decades.
Taylor took a step back from the fog.
"This ain't a labyrinth. You know that too, right?"
"If it was, we wouldn't handle it ourselves—we'd call the government. A single bloodline swallowing a labyrinth would mean self-destruction, especially not in our nation."
"Labyrinths around the world have one thing in common: their gates."
Labyrinth gates were enormous. Just think of the one in Maze City—50 meters high and 100 meters wide.
All gates had a black sheen and looked solid, though you could pass right through them since they lacked true form.
"So a fog barely over 2 meters tall can't be a labyrinth gate. To judge accurately, we'd need intel from inside, but with no one returning..."
"Still, I believe you'll handle it more flexibly than others."
Hashy pointed at the fog gate. Better to show with actions than words. The hefty advance payment was meant to boost morale too.
"Fine. But first..."
Taylor glanced at Allen.
"I sent in the spider, but the link to it cut off right away."
"No need to spell it out now."
Allen nodded and summoned the panther and the box. As their gazes met, he pointed at the fog with his staff.
"Enter."
The panther obeyed without hesitation, while the box rolled its crab-like camera eyes around before slowly advancing.
Taylor, Shiba, and Hashy passed through the gate in that order, with Allen entering last.
The cramped, gloomy, uneven tunnel scenery flipped on its head. A vast, bright, flat expanse of white earth greeted Allen.
Snowfield?
Allen wondered if the sensor had malfunctioned upon seeing the temperature, but a quick check showed no issues.
A glance to the side dispelled his doubts entirely. Taylor was hunching his shoulders, Shiba was zipping up his jacket, and Hashy looked like cookie-and-cream ice cream with all the snow in his beard. This was definitely a snowfield.
The panther crouched low as usual, while the box kept scooping up snow with its claws. Its intent to store it was obvious, but when the snow crumbled finely, the box lost interest.
"Allen, at this cold, is your body oka—"
Taylor cut himself off mid-sentence. He'd seen snowflakes hitting his helmet visor melt into water and trickle down.
"I've got temperature countermeasures covered. Thanks to [Heat], it's nice and warm—no need to worry."
"Right, just my needless concern..."
"I can engrave rune letters for you if needed."
"That'd consume mana steadily, yeah?"
"Yes."
"Then we're good. I'll tough it out and ask if it gets bad."
It was winter outside to begin with. Lynx sat at high elevation, colder than Maze City, so he'd prepared warm exploration gear.
"Guess you've been through worse in the labyrinth—not feeling it much, huh."
Allen focused less on whether it was bravado and more on the fact that Taylor admitted it was cold. He couldn't hear about the primordial forest due to the geas, but this suggested similar terrain.
But how'd he say that? Unconscious slips don't trigger the geas? Or is it not important enough?
Allen shook off the thought. He could ponder later—first, tackle the task at hand.
"Mr. Hashy, are you cold?"
"Please."
Hashy was laden with magitech and exploration gear, but his expertise was mining, not adventuring. His body was tough like any dwarf's, but matching an explorer's grit, honed by constant life-or-death stakes, was another matter.
Allen bent a metal plate, embedded a mana stone, and engraved [Heat] on the surface. Handing over the makeshift magitech eased Hashy's expression.
"Never imagined a snowfield deep underground. Now I get why my cousins didn't return—they got lost in a place without landmarks..."
The fog gate had vanished. To those who arrived first, the latecomers appeared out of thin air at that spot.
Taylor, collar pulled high, clapped Hashy on the shoulder.
"Let's move. Lingering in a no-signal spot just drains body heat. Allen, see anything?"
"No. Just snow everywhere."
Even Allen, with the best eyesight, had nothing useful. The blizzard kept interfering with observations—a natural phenomenon that felt almost malicious.
Taylor took the lead, trudging through knee-deep snow to blaze the trail. When he showed signs of strain, Shiba or Allen rotated to the front.
The cold was enough to freeze breath solid. Allen inferred this not from personal sensation but from the frost caking Shiba's beard.
"You okay?"
"The air is clean and crisp, brother. You should try it sometime."
Curious, Allen lifted his visor slightly—only to jolt back from the biting wind. His body shivered involuntarily, prompting Shiba's grin as he stepped forward. The beard-shaking laugh sent frost cascading off.
Allen gathered the occasional withered tree they passed. Using it as firewood would save mana.
By the time a decent pile of logs had built up on the makeshift sled the panther pulled, the sky darkened—not from the blizzard, but nightfall.
The group seeking shelter spotted a depression like a half-clenched palm. They blocked the wind with tents and lit a fire, and like magic, the blizzard died down.
Hashy, his beard-ice melted, looked skyward.
"Even here, the moon rises. Still can't tell if this is real or illusion. You look awfully young for an explorer, Mr. Allen, yet so composed."
"Nothing's stranger than the labyrinth. And I've seen something similar recently."
"Care to share?"
"I'll skip the details. I quickly realized that place was an illusion, but here... hard to say. Illusion, barrier-sealed space...?"
Taylor, thawing his throat with warm water, chimed in.
"Probably the latter. High-tier barrier magic—Depth 7 or above. No clue why they'd hide a spot like this underground. What a twisted mind."
"Maybe because it's a mana stone mine—easy power supply?"
"If so, there'd be no signs of dug tunnels. Before our family carved the shafts, it was solid rock everywhere."
Hashy's answer only muddled things further.
Allen's left eye twitched independently—or rather, reacted to the inputted Star Letters, piercing the darkness beyond the campfire.
Race: Elf, Human, Dwarf
Features: Dwarf attire matches Hashy's
"Someone's coming."
Everyone jumped up at Allen's words. As the figures drew near, Hashy—who'd been protected at the rear—pushed forward.
"My cousin. Lower your weapons. Lois!"
"Brother Hashy!"
They embraced fiercely, like family reunited after years apart. Meeting in this trackless hell must have hit hard.
The employers could rest, but the workers couldn't. The muscular elf who seemed to lead the other party stepped up.
"Let's exchange info."
"Yeah."
As Taylor advanced, the elf's eyes scanned him up and down.
"Weather like this, the elderly should stay indoors... Joint lube holding up?"
"Watch your mouth. Looks like you're on steroids yourself—careful, or you'll end up impotent."
The "frail" Taylor fired right back. In the explorer world, this was wholesome banter on par with "Nice weather today," kicking off the info swap.
Of course, they only confirmed each knew nothing new: blizzard, snowfield, no human traces—just rehashing the obvious.
"Wasted time."
"My line."
They pitched tents right next door. Lois, who'd come with them, stuck to Hashy with no intention of leaving.
"We'll travel together."
As expected. Without comms, splitting up to search was impossible—better to stick as one.
Of course, not glued together; they'd spread out left and right at optimal distance, scouting as they went.
*
Exploration Day 2.
No gains.
Exploration Day 3.
Other party joins.
Exploration Day 4.
Allen's group, covering the left flank, spotted a structure.
A signal flare went up, drawing the scattered parties rushing back. Before them lay a shattered door and stairs leading down.
Hashy, inspecting the door, spoke.
"Smashed from the outside."
Allen, watching the stairs, checked the corner of his vision.
Even with the door broken, it was 20 degrees warmer. The snow on the stairs was remarkably thin, as if cleared by someone.
Then, sounds echoed from below. Growing louder, hands instinctively went to weapons.
What emerged was a pack of toad-shaped automatons. They'd been gulping snow with massive mouths until they locked eyes with the people above.
Screeech!
Like prey spotting a predator, they shrieked and fled down the stairs in panic.
The elf party gave immediate chase, while Allen's group followed at a measured pace. No need to rush into the unknown.
At the bottom, Allen found another shattered door. Beyond it stretched a brightly lit corridor.
The toads trailed snow like breadcrumbs from a fairy tale. Allen's steps naturally turned that way.
End
Allen checked the temperature in the corner of his vision. The brutal -30℃ snowfield air and -10℃ stairs were gone, replaced by warm currents enveloping them.
He wiped his visor to clear sudden fogging. Labyrinth temps were steady, so he'd skimped on anti-fog prep.
Taylor's hunched shoulders relaxed, and the ice on Shiba's beard melted away.
The snow the toads had trailed down the corridor melted into water too—a signpost of sorts in the tangled, signless maze of halls.
The elf's bootprints stretched long in the water like ink stamps. The toads had fled faster, leaving no battle traces.
Allen recalled the toads' movements and speed.
More refined than the cave automatons. Combat models at this level would be far deadlier.
The term automaton predated the labyrinths but now mainly referred to machines from within.
Relatively easy to acquire there, many like Allen repaired and used them.
Shiba pointed it out.
"Like labyrinth automatons. Confirms the owner went into one. Over a century since their discovery—might even still be alive."
"Hm..."
Allen's thoughts differed. With his visor open, his grunt carried clearly.
"Do you have some inkling, brother?"
"Pure."
"For my pure brain, please explain in detail."