How to Survive as a Dungeon Manager in Another World

Episode 9 – Labyrinth Tarzan (2)

-Screeeeeech!!

Blood Demons.

The ravenous fiends of blood, guardians of the labyrinth, swarmed forth in a pack.

However.

“…”

Swish! Thwack!

With just a few monotonous slashes of Rudine’s blade, they were mercilessly cut down.

Adina watched the spectacle with a face paling in horror.

“Ugh…”

The sight of dozens of Blood Demons, charging as one, being gruesomely shredded with only a few strokes of the sword, was truly something not of this earthly realm.

What shocked Adina even more was the fact that the corpses of the Blood Demons, slain so readily, turned to black ash and were then absorbed into that sinister grimoire held by Luke Richter.

“Did I do good?”

“You did good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, yes.”

The demeanor of the two who had orchestrated such bizarre events was utterly nonchalant.

They seemed to feel no sense of crisis whatsoever in the face of what was happening, their steps light and carefree.

Adina alone was bewildered by their reaction, which bordered on insensitivity and utter lunacy.

‘Crazy people…’

Whether it was the one who read the cursed book as if it were nothing, or the one who insisted on bringing it all the way here, neither was normal in the slightest.

At the same time, Adina felt her own question growing larger and larger.

Even she, who had lived a cloistered life since childhood, knew those two weren’t ordinary humans.

But Luke Richter, the man who introduced himself as the Emperor’s hound, was more than just peculiar; he was suspicious.

The fact that he alone managed the long-abandoned Blackmoore was suspicious.

That he knew the precise location of this ominously desolate cave was suspicious.

That he seemed to foresee the future, knowing the location of every trap, was also suspicious.

Yet, the reason she had followed this stranger to such a place was out of fear of being left alone, a petty curiosity about his identity, and, ultimately, because she was drawn to the mystical power he wielded.

‘…Just what kind of man is he?’

She had followed him out of a strange competitive spirit, but she didn’t entirely trust him.

That was why she couldn’t suppress her curiosity.

“This place…it’s no ordinary cave, is it?”

“Indeed. It’s a maze, you see.”

“A maze?”

“Yes. You do know what a maze is, don’t you?”

Nod, nod.

She didn’t know the specifics, but she had a vague idea.

When a specific location is eroded by the bizarre (怪異), its structure and nature become warped, losing its original form and transforming into a space filled with endless chaos and darkness—such a den of evil is called a Maze (迷宮).

“How did you know about a place like this?”

“I saw it.”

“Could it be you’ve come here often?”

“No, first time.”

“…Then where did you see this place?”

“Ah, there’s that.”

Indeed. There’s something to it.

Adina swallowed hard and continued.

“Then do you know the name of the maze?”

“Tartajan.”

“…Tartajan?”

Tartajan.

It was a name she had never heard before, so she stared at him with eyes full of curiosity.

And he, with a calm face, slowly continued to walk.

“It is the name of a prison, from an age long forgotten.”

“…?”

She uttered a sound that defied comprehension.

“If it’s a prison, what was imprisoned within?”

“The True Ancestor.”

“The True Ancestor…”

The true progenitor, you say.

A name steeped in an arrogance beyond measure.

“What? Scared?”

“No?”

“If you’re frightened, best huddle behind me.”

“…Nonsense.”

—She said, even as she retreated behind him, ears perked and twitching.

He clicked his tongue at her unwavering cowardice, but just then…

“That…”

Beyond that.

They were forced to halt before a thick, swirling fog.

It was so dense and dark, nothing could be seen within.

And that wasn’t all.

The pitch-black fog churned like a raging torrent, ominous to merely behold.

‘What sort of vengeful spirits…’

Having possessed a spirit eye since childhood, she could see it clearly.

The eye of the storm.

There, entangled in madness, vengeful spirits tore at each other, shrieking in agony.

Its essence was that of the grotesque.

And among those…

“…Bound spirits.”

Of course, even among vengeful spirits, bound spirits were of a lesser rank, weaker. But when driven mad, transformed into ravenous fiends, they could overwhelm you in a swarm like this.

To pass through that ghastly torrent of the grotesque with bare skin would be an act of suicide.

And so, he reached out to hold them back…

“Hold a moment.”

Before I could even speak, he stopped.

And what he does next…

“Rudy-neh.”

“Hm?”

“You see that door, all the way at the end?”

“Yeah, I see it.”

“Just walk straight to it.”

“Got it!”

“???”

Madness.

Is he seriously thinking of sacrificing a comrade to get past this?

“Are you out of your mind?!”

“What?”

“You’re going to walk through *that*?”

“Gonna walk through it, yeah.”

There’s no reasoning with him.

Which is why I have to convince him, even a moment faster.

“!!!”

Rudy-neh was already walking calmly into the heart of the torrent.

The gazes of the wailing, ghostly souls shifted to her all at once.

“Ah, no…!”

A ferocity far exceeding expectations, overflowed.

And the ghostly souls, who had been tearing at each other to possess the body of the living, descended upon Rudy-neh, but…

— *Screeeeeeeeeech! Screeeeeeeeeech!*

Every single ghostly soul that attempted to possess her was torn to shreds.

There were no exceptions.

Luke Richter, who had been quietly observing, then…

“Hm, performance is certainly reliable.”

“…”

As if expecting it.

A pleased smile graced his lips.

*Swhooosh.*

Torn and shredded resentful spirits were sucked in, absorbed into Findal’s book as if drawn to a vortex.

The grimoire hummed with satisfaction as it devoured the fragments of tormented souls.

“Performance is certainly reliable.”

One could only nod in agreement to that.

Rudinäne was truly the best landmine disposal unit one could ask for.

‘No way a bound spirit could overcome a Heavenly Star of Slaughter.’

It was a predictable outcome.

If the bound spirit’s grade was low, the Heavenly Star of Slaughter’s was god-like.

No way a starving ghost could possess her.

Operation, Go Rudinäne!

Another success.

“U-unbelievable…”

Adina muttered, her face ashen.

There was no time to explain everything, so I started walking.

“What are you waiting for? Come on.”

“…”

My steps felt light.

That’s because we were slowly approaching the end of the labyrinth.

‘Cleared this comfortably.’

This cave, comprised of three zones, was a labyrinth formed by the resentment of vampires imprisoned in the Cerebral Prison Tartarus.

Having read the original work, I knew the exact strategy for conquering this labyrinth.

Just destroy the core of True Ancestor Arcantila, the one sealed in the final zone.

The method itself was simple, but the process was anything but easy.

Thus, it was a labyrinth one should enter with thorough preparations.

‘Rudinäne, you’re the best.’

Yeah, we don’t need any of that.

It would be enough, with just Ludine.

And so, I passed through the door.

“…”

A coffin, placed in the very heart of the empty space, caught my eye.

It was the labyrinth’s final gate, the place where the True Ancestor, Arcantilla, concealed her true form.

Slowly, I moved forward, halting before the coffin.

For a moment, I gazed upon it, then quietly reached out and opened the lid.

*Creak.*

The metallic sound echoed in that instant.

“!!!”

*Swooosh!*

A sinister aura pressed down on the space, and from the ceiling, an unidentifiable blood began to pour, staining everything around with crimson.

The flowing blood rapidly pooled, turning the stone floor into a slick morass.

‘Tch, the stench of blood.’

I could feel the temperature around me dropping colder by the second.

Then, a bizarre thing occurred.

The rising blood, as if possessed of its own will, began to flow back, against the current, into the coffin.

*Thunk! Thunk!*

The coffin shuddered.

The wave of reversing blood enveloped the trembling coffin.

And it was then, as the overflowing tide of blood was being sucked into the coffin…

*Gooong!*

The True Ancestor, Arcantilla.

A beautiful being with long, disheveled white hair, revealed herself.

If left unchecked, the creature would regain consciousness.

Therefore…

*Shhh!*

I spread the Pindal Codex, which I had carried from the entrance, upon the floor.

And then, I drew the prepared dagger, gripping it in a reverse hold.

“Hoo.”

* * *

*Crack!*

It pierced.

*Crack! Crackle!*

Pierce, and pierce again.

The reason I hauled Pindal’s Grimoire all the way here.

It was precisely because this cursed tome was the Labyrinth’s core.

And as I plunged in the final dagger.

“!!!”

*Whoosh!*

Hellfire consumed the Grimoire.

And then.

— *aaaugh!!*

Arkhantella, regaining his senses, began to melt.

He gazed at me, as if resentful, but I paid it no mind.

Spawn camping was, after all, a seasoned player’s virtue.

*Kugugugung.*

The earth trembled.

The aftermath of destroying the Labyrinth’s very foundation.

— Cursed… uncivilized… livestock, you…

“Eat shit.”

— Damned… b*stard… who… in truth…

“Shall I tell you?”

I chuckled, rising from where I knelt.

Just as I was about to move away.

“Luke!!!”

Ludine, her face a mask of shock, came running towards me.

Adina, equally startled, followed close behind.

“Luke, huff…! Richter, huff…! What in the world have you…!”

And then.

Upon hearing those words, Arkhantella…

— Luke… Richter…

She murmured my name.

— I won’t… forg… et…

Leaving behind her final death rattle.

— I must…

Then, vanished.

Without leaving a trace.

“…I’m bloody exhausted.”

Meanwhile.

“My Lady, today’s accounts.”

A masked man offered the prepared documents to a woman.

Their affiliation: the Dark Shadow Society.

An intelligence and assassination organization that gripped the Empire’s back alleys.

“Well done…”

The woman received the documents.

Then, her neck began to creak.

“…Luke, Richter…”

“My Lady?”

“I won’t… forg… et…”

“???”

Crack!

Leaving behind nonsensical words, her entire body exploded, and she died.

It wasn’t just her.

The True Ancestor Arcantilla’s brood, lurking across the continent, biding their time.

Those who, mimicking ordinary humans, had taken refuge in the underworld, died in explosions, all at once.

Because the True Ancestor had vanished, so too did the brood, bound to her by blood.

And.

Just before they vanished.

Each and every one of them spoke the name of one man.

That name…

“Luke… Richter?”

Luke Richter.

A mere official’s name, in the moment it spread throughout the Empire.