Chapter 60: Mass Annihilation (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 60: Mass Annihilation (2)
Beneath the snowy mountain on the 3rd Floor of the Labyrinth.
A lone rogue ran, a patchwork zombie with three heads and six arms in hot pursuit.
“Grrrrrr…!”
“Fifth floor? Fifth floor? Fifth floor?”
“Antonelli…”
The patchwork zombie was powerful, but slow.
Of course, Back Attack’s own speed was greatly reduced as his feet sank into the snow, but the same applied to the zombie.
The monster wasn’t made from native creatures like snow wolves.
“Plenty of time.”
He was once the top adventurer on the 1st Floor, a super rookie who had received countless offers on the 2nd.
A talent scouted by Caleb and coveted by the Labyrinth Master.
The only adventurer who could list ‘Labyrinth Exit Boss’ on his resume.
Back Attack, master of the cheap shot.
“Come on!”
He clapped his hands, drawing the patchwork zombie’s attention.
“Graaaah!”
“That’s right.”
Whenever the distance between them grew to about thirty meters, or after a chase of a hundred meters, the patchwork zombie would try to turn back toward the mountain.
Is it instinctively trying to stay near the Lich?
Perhaps.
But he couldn’t let it go back. The monster’s power was beyond imagination.
Caleb had me lure it away because it would interfere with his strategy.
It was a mission of grave importance: to single-handedly take down the patchwork zombie, a foe that would challenge an entire 3rd-floor party.
A difficult task that some wannabe ranger elf, who just sends messages from a safe distance, wouldn’t even dare to dream of.
“Don’t you worry, boss. I’ll finish this cleanly.”
Back Attack picked up a rock and threw it at the patchwork zombie, grabbing its aggro once more.
He had to lead it to the target location, no matter what.
The oil pit.
Caleb had shouted at him, “Go to the oil trap!”
Back Attack knew exactly what he meant.
Others might not have noticed, but a rogue with a keen eye could sense it.
There was an oil pit trap just ahead.
Once you fell in, the slick oil made it impossible to climb out. He’d heard that the Frost Hunters would capture adventurers trapped that way and eat them alive, sashimi-style.
“Here, boy. C’mere!”
Back Attack leaped over the trap and clapped his hands at the patchwork zombie.
However.
“Grrrrr…”
The zombie, which had been following obediently, hesitated again at the edge of the trap.
The monster glanced back at the snowy mountain.
And then, finally…
“Hey, where are you going!”
It turned a full 180 degrees and started heading back.
Thwack!
He threw another rock, but the zombie simply ignored it.
“Agh, seriously. Guess I have no choice.”
Back Attack decided to use a forbidden technique to get the monster’s attention.
It was his ultimate secret art, one that had scrambled the minds of countless thugs during his youth in the back alleys.
“Your mom!”
“…”
The monster glanced back.
“She must’ve had a hard time, huh? Taking on an elf, an orc, and a beastman all at once—”
“Graaaah!”
That’s it! No one can stay calm after hearing that!
“Looks like there’s some undead mixed in there too. So, is it like a quarter-share for each race?”
“An… tonelli…!”
“Was he the main squeeze?”
It was unlikely the creature had the intelligence to actually understand him, but the patchwork zombie charged at Back Attack again.
CRASH!
The ground gave way, and it plunged into the oil pit.
“Mission complete, boss!”
Back Attack threw a dagger into the pit.
The flame-enchanted magic dagger would set fire to anything it struck. In a pit glistening with oil like this one, the monster was about to be roasted alive.
—Graaaaaaaaaah!
The zombie’s screams echoed from the pit as flames shot up like a bonfire.
“Nice and warm.”
Back Attack held his hands out to the fire, warming them for a moment.
“I’ll just confirm the kill and head back. Hope everyone’s okay.”
Just then.
A group of people came rushing toward him.
They were survivors from the 3rd Floor.
And they were a complete mess.
“H-help me…”
They were a ragtag bunch, the remnants of numerous shattered parties who had banded together out of desperation.
There were fifteen of them, but they had no proper protection against the cold.
Each of them had lost their party’s mage, priest, or magic gear responsible for cold resistance.
Some were even suffering from delirium.
“Fire!”
“Get to the fire!”
“Ughhh…”
Patients whose limbs were already beginning to necrotize from frostbite ran frantically on trembling legs toward the oil pit.
“Warm yourselves!”
In truth, the cold of the 3rd Floor was a curse, a form of magic cast by the Labyrinth itself upon adventurers. A simple fire wouldn’t solve the problem.
It would only delay the inevitable.
But they felt the freezing sensation begin to recede.
And with it, their delirium.
It was then that a few of them realized why.
“Is that a Torch Helm!?”
An elven mage’s eyes lit up as he recognized the helmet Back Attack was wearing.
“Yeah, it is.”
It was a ray of salvation.
Intense hope bloomed on the adventurers’ faces.
“P-please. Could you travel with us?”
“We’ll be quiet! Just let us come with you!”
“It’s dangerous for you to be alone, isn’t it? Why not move with us?”
“Please, save us.”
A flood of persuasion, pleading, and begging poured out at once. Some even dropped to their knees, rubbing their hands together desperately.
“We have no protection against the cold.”
“We’ll reward you handsomely if you help us!”
These survivors, suffering from serious injuries, had stumbled upon the Torch Helm in their desperate struggle to live. They couldn’t possibly let it go.
Back Attack scratched his cheek and replied.
“But I’m heading back to the snowy mountain.”
At that, everyone’s face hardened.
“You’re going to the monolith?”
“Are you crazy? That place is overrun with monsters!”
“That’s no different from suicide!”
“Whoa, whoa.”
Back Attack calmed them down.
“I’m not going there to die. There are people trying to activate the monolith on the mountain right now.”
Back Attack gave them a brief summary of the situation.
“The gate to the 2nd Floor is already blocked, the exit room is probably the same, and going down to the 4th Floor is just as dangerous. So, wanna gamble on the monolith with me?”
“Is this guy insane…?”
But the 3rd-floor adventurers didn’t listen.
“No one’s ever solved the 3rd-floor monolith’s code. What kind of nonsense is this…?”
“Even if they did solve it, how could they activate it when it’s swarming with monsters?”
“Who came up with this plan?”
“Caleb?”
“Who’s Caleb?”
The adventurers erupted into a cacophony of chatter.
“He’s an adventurer from the 1st Floor who made a name for himself recently.”
“Then why is he on the 3rd Floor?”
“Must have skipped the 2nd.”
“Isn’t that crazy?”
“Hey, you lunatics! You think the Labyrinth is a joke?”
“The only way to survive now is to wait for the Adventurer’s Guild rescue team!”
Just as the accusations were flying.
“Look at that!”
Someone shouted, pointing at the summit of the snowy mountain.
A white, foam-like aura of magic was erupting from it.
It resembled an avalanche, but it posed no threat to the adventurers.
“My god…”
Despite the considerable distance, the mages and priests in the group felt a shiver run down their spines from the sheer magical power.
“It’s the monolith’s magic.”
“The monolith!”
Everyone was too stunned to speak.
“No way…”
Could that wizard, the one on his third Labyrinth run who had just arrived on the 3rd Floor today, have actually done it?
What in the world had happened on that summit?
RUMBLE!
The ground shook.
The magical force cascaded down the mountain with incredible speed, spreading like a storm across the plains. It was similar to an avalanche in its momentum.
But its range was on a completely different level.
When activated, the Tier 10 magic contained within the monolith would, by default, cover every accessible area of its floor.
It swept past the oil pit below the mountain, through an open treasure room, the nearby exit room, the gate to the 2nd Floor, the stairs leading to the 4th, and the new wave of monsters heading to occupy those areas. It washed over the adventurers fleeing that wave, and into every nook and cranny of the Labyrinth where survivors were hiding their presence.
The monolith’s magic scoured every single space classified as the ‘3rd Floor,’ leaving nothing untouched.
*
Smoke rose from every spot the magic had trampled. It was the remnants of annihilated monsters.
The snow wolves, the Frost Hunters—every creature exposed to the Mass Annihilation had evaporated without a trace.
Like a forest after a wildfire has been extinguished, only smoke drifted from the peak of the snowy mountain, as if no monsters had ever been there to begin with.
The Mass Annihilation had erased the very existence of the monsters.
It was as if the entire field had been wiped clean of dust with a ‘Polishing’ spell.
What remained on the summit was the quiet after a storm.
A desolate silence, like the one that hangs over ruins after a tsunami.
“Is… is it over?”
The Kappa, who had dropped to the ground in terror, slowly raised his head.
His view was wide open. The magic had even swept away the Femur Wall.
It left nothing related to the monsters behind.
“It’s over.”
Caleb was looking beyond, toward the rising smoke.
“Let’s go.”
Now, they had to kill the Lich.
*
If the Labyrinth was the intestine of some great demon, and the monster wave was a massive inflammation breaking out on the 3rd Floor, then the monolith’s magic was a powerful disinfectant.
It was like cauterizing a canker sore, burning everything away.
The entire 3rd Floor had been ‘purified,’ like a sterilized operating table.
And yet, two monsters still remained.
The mad adventurer Antonelli, and Gildal.
Even in the game, those types were strangely unaffected by the monolith’s magic.
Why was that?
No matter how strong they were, they were only at the level of a 3rd-floor boss.
The power of Tier 10 magic should have been more than enough to obliterate a hundred 3rd-floor bosses.
So how did they endure it?
It’s probably because the monoliths were created by the residents of the inter-floor villages.
Those people weren’t monsters.
They were closer to adventurers who had been devoured by the Labyrinth.
As proof, the monolith had tried to prevent itself from being overrun by monsters by triggering avalanches on its own.
The monoliths were created by the natives of the inter-floor villages to defend themselves from monsters.
So, from their perspective, what was a ‘mad adventurer’?
Would the monolith’s creators consider them monsters? Or would they judge them to be adventurers?
The answer was the latter.
And I could guess the reason why.
The natives of the inter-floor villages were also driven mad.
If they were people capable of creating Tier 10 magic, there was no way the Labyrinth Master wouldn’t have coveted them.
Organizations that appeared in the Deep Layers, like the Black Iron Knights or the Silver Dagger Federation, had sufficiently human-like appearances and used a plethora of ‘adventurer-like’ skills.
Even when I played the game, their ambiguous identities were the subject of all sorts of theories.
Perhaps they were originally from the inter-floor villages.
That’s why the monolith didn’t touch adventurers seized by madness—to avoid any chance of destroying its own masters.
Of course, this was all just speculation, but thanks to that, both Antonelli and Gildal remained.
No.
Gildal… is on the verge of death.
When we returned to the first entryway, a somewhat bitter scene unfolded.
I was pleased to see the smirk wiped clean off the Lich’s face, panicked by the disappearance of all its undead minions.
“Krrrr…”
Gildal was on his last breath.
He was leaning against an ice wall, his body pierced with countless arrows and ice pikes.
It seemed that while Hijikata, Aimus, Gadozumi, and Soyul, being rational, could fight while assessing the distance and situation, Gildal could not.
Moreover, with his enormous size and aggressive nature, he had likely absorbed the brunt of the monsters’ attacks with his own body on the front lines.
You worked hard. Rest there for a bit.
It was better for Gildal to be out of the fight now.
With all the undead minions gone, the rest of us were more than capable of taking down Antonelli.
“Caleb!”
Aimus, Hijikata, and the others were in a standoff with the Lich, using Gildal as cover, since it was awkward for them to attack the floating enemy.
“That bastard won’t come down from the air!” Aimus shouted.
Just as he said, the Lich was floating in mid-air, merely observing the situation.
It’s waiting for Gildal to die.
It knew that if it raised him as an undead, it could kill us all. So, instead of attacking recklessly, it was conserving its magic and waiting.
It was true that with the Lich floating up there, only Soyul could really attack it, and her fox-fire wasn’t nearly enough to kill it.
The same went for me and Yernil.
The reason was that the Lich possessed the ‘Undead Regeneration’ trait. Unless it took enough burst damage in a single turn to be reduced to dust, it would quickly regenerate from most wounds.
“Everyone, listen up.”
But there was one way to stop that regeneration.
“Liches have a soul vessel called a Life Vessel.”
It was a classic trait of liches in countless D&D-inspired fantasy works, and the Labyrinth’s Abyss was no exception.
“It’s probably inside that thing’s body.”
If we broke it, its regeneration would stop.
And the critical damage would likely cause it to fall to the ground.
Then we could finish it off easily.
The problem was that a Lich’s soul vessel was only about the size of two finger joints, and there was no outward sign of where it was hidden inside its body.
But we had a way to find it.
“Soyul.”
A very cruel method.
“Track Gildal’s soul.”
“…”
Everyone’s expression hardened.
They all understood.
They knew what would happen if we destroyed it.
Antonelli’s soul would be extinguished and the Lich would die, but Gildal’s soul would be annihilated as well.
He would never be able to return to being human.
He would die from blood loss right where he was, and that would be the end.
He couldn’t even be resurrected.
Just as a soul preservation service fails if the body is too severely damaged, preventing resurrection.
Physical wounds could be healed one way or another, but there was no cure for the loss of a soul.
“Caleb…”
Yernil’s voice was thick with emotion.
“It’s the only way.”
Unlike an ossuary, a Life Vessel doesn’t safely contain a soul.
Gildal’s soul, trapped inside, was already beyond saving.
It was a stark reminder.
I really have fallen into a fucked-up world.