In his right hand was the Silver Sword, and in his left, Ember.
Shiiing!
The Silver Sword, drawn from his left hip, emitted a faint glow as it slashed horizontally.
At the same time, Ember, drawn from his right hip, thrust forward.
A slash and a thrust—simple movements, but with speed, they became the scythe of death.
Encrid repeated the same slash-and-thrust motion once more.
His strikes were flawless, piercing and cutting necks with absolute precision.
In the darkness, four impudent servants who had come to greet their guest lost their heads or had holes pierced through them.
Meanwhile, his Will brushed against his eyes, aiding his night vision.
The difference between a Junior-Knight and a Knight lay in their use of will—whether it was conscious or subconscious.
Encrid, at this moment, subconsciously employed his Will, turning it to his advantage.
Though he couldn’t perfectly see his enemies like some fairies with heat-sensing sight, he could vaguely make out their forms.
Four drowned corpses. Their bloated bodies toppled over.
Splat.
The sound of their collapse, the squelching sensation beneath his boots, and the damp, foul smell sharpened his senses.
‘Water?’
The labyrinth was damp.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
A suffocating, oppressive sensation followed.
‘It’s suppressing me.’
Something was attempting to weigh down his Will.
The air itself seemed laced with poison, and the oppressive force on his shoulders seemed to demand he leave immediately.
To sum it up, this place was filled with both unease and malice— and even something actively suppressing his Will.
Yet, it barely affected Encrid.
He was a Knight who instinctively wielded the Will of Rejection.
While it wasn’t a complete counter, it was enough to resist the influence.
All that remained was the damp air, the foul smell, and the ominous atmosphere.
Shortly after Encrid granted rest to the four drowned servants, Pel, Luagarne, and the fairies entered.
“...The smell is unbearable.”
Pel muttered.
The sheep he herded in the wilderness reeked of excrement, but this stench was far worse.
He could also feel the same sinister energy that Encrid sensed.
His hand instinctively reached for the Idol Slayer.
“It’s oppressive and ominous.”
Luagarne added while scanning their surroundings.
Despite the darkness, darker than a moonless night, they could make out the rough shapes of their surroundings.
Their other senses remained sharp, even without light.
One of the fairies took out a small stone, and a faint glow lit up the area.
It wasn’t very bright, but it was enough.
Fairies, by nature, were born with exceptional night vision, and some could even detect heat.
A few in the group had such abilities.
Still, the presence of light greatly improved visibility.
The glowing stone wasn’t something prepared specifically for Encrid and his group, it was already part of their gear.
“Did you start fighting the moment you arrived?”
Bran asked as he approached, lighting another cigarette.
He struck his flint, and the leaves in his cigarette hissed as they ignited, sending faint sparks into the air.
The warm, smoky scent slightly pushed back the foul stench of the labyrinth.
“Have you been here before?”
Encrid asked.
“Once.”
“Ah.”
“I’m here as a guide.”
The labyrinth was larger than it seemed, spacious enough to accommodate Bran’s massive frame.
Though Encrid hadn’t expected to be exploring caves like this, it wouldn’t have changed anything even if he had.
The entrance to the labyrinth was a damp, irregular tunnel surrounded by rough limestone walls.
“Lady Sinar would want you to turn back even now.”
One of the female fairies spoke.
She carried a sword similar to Ember at her waist.
It was unclear whether she was speaking on Sinar’s behalf, testing Encrid’s resolve, or simply voicing her own worries.
She was exceptionally skilled at suppressing her emotions.
“She’s always been stubborn and doesn’t listen to others.”
Pel answered in Encrid’s stead.
He wasn’t wrong.
“Let’s go.”
Encrid said, stepping forward.
The oppressive air, foul smell, and ominous atmosphere were mere obstacles, hardly enough to be called walls.
The fairy holding the glowing stone raised it higher.
If the drowned corpses and the manticore were any indication, the monsters wouldn’t stop coming.
And they didn’t.
“Grrraaagh!”
A grotesque roar, accompanied by the stench of rotting flesh, echoed through the tunnel.
A monster leaped from the darkness beyond the light.
They hadn’t walked far, barely rounded a corner, before another creature appeared.
“Drowned corpses mixed with human-faced hounds.”
Luagarne observed with her Frog-like perception.
Though it didn’t take much to identify them, they looked exactly as described.
Water-swollen skin peeled and dripped as the four-legged beasts, dozens of them, growled and rolled their black eyes.
They formed a wall in front of the group.
Was it a threat? Not really.
“We’ll handle it.”
Bran stepped forward.
Of course, the group wasn’t foolish.
They had prepared to face the labyrinth.
The fairy swordsmen, who had trained their bodies as weapons, were proof of that.
Encrid crossed his arms, observing their skills.
It was time to assess his allies’ strength.
Fairy combat was a model of efficiency.
Bran, the Woodguard, and the other three—Brisa, Arcoiris, and Zero. Zero was the large fairy who had sparred with Encrid when he first arrived in the city.
Aside from Bran, Zero’s skill stood out the most.
“Not bad.”
Luagarne commented.
Encrid nodded in agreement.
Zero leaped forward, drawing his Nai—the fairy blade unique to their kind.
As he advanced, he poured strength from his ankles, knees, waist, shoulders, and wrists into the strike.
His sword seemed to bend as it cut through the air.
Under the glow of the stone, it split the human-faced hound in half.
Splat!
Despite the light, the black blood of the monster soaked the floor.
Already damp, the ground grew wetter.
“He’s thinking about you.”
Luagarne observed.
Zero’s strike resembled Encrid’s earlier blow against the manticore— not identical, but similar in form.
‘Is he naturally gifted?’
Fairies derived their power from energy. Yet, despite being unable to use it here, Zero’s strikes showed no hesitation.
The other two were just as skilled.
Encrid felt like he was wearing heavy shackles on his ankles.
Even with the Will of Rejection pushing back the oppressive aura, the labyrinth’s air still weighed on him.
‘They’re fast.’
Their footwork was light, and their strikes sharp.
Zero focused on powerful, decisive slashes, while the other two inflicted smaller wounds without overextending.
Without words, gestures, or signals, they moved like twins.
One exposed his back, baiting an attack, while the other swiftly cut down the enemy drawn in.
‘They’re intentionally leaving openings to provoke attacks, and exploiting the monsters’ instincts to strike at their vulnerabilities.’
That was their tactic.
Attacking forward always left the rear exposed, they forced the monsters into such movements.
Simple in theory, difficult in execution.
Bran was a bit more special than the other fairies.
His fighting style was incredibly simple compared to the rest.
Grrrr!
A human-faced hound lunged at Bran, sinking its fangs into his arm.
But its teeth couldn’t pierce Bran’s bark-like armor.
While the creature bit down, Bran’s massive wooden fist smashed its head.
Bang!
The punch wasn’t fast or flashy, but the power it carried rivaled that of a giant.
The hound’s head burst apart with a single strike.
Bran’s method was straightforward—
‘Take a hit and hit back.’
The Woodguard’s body was like bark, tougher than plate armor and covering even internal organs.
Being born as living wood, Woodguards were naturally built for durability.
Did they even have internal organs?
If the exterior couldn’t be damaged, then attacking the inside would be the answer.
That thought occurred reflexively, even without any immediate need to fight him.
Later, Zero joined the other fairies.
Though more than twenty waterlogged hounds had attacked, Encrid never had to intervene.
He simply observed their battle, and unexpectedly, a new realization dawned upon him.
‘Zero.’
This fairy swung his sword by instinct, not intellect.
He shut off emotions and closed his mind, leaving only combat thoughts as he fought.
But at the same time, he was still thinking.
Instinctive combat thought and rational judgment couldn’t coexist, yet Zero seemed to manage both.
‘How is that possible?’
In terms of experience, no one on the continent could match Encrid.
His thoughts accelerated as he analyzed the techniques used by the fairies.
No, it was closer to fascination, he was utterly absorbed, unconsciously studying their methods.
It resembled how Ragna operated.
The difference was that Ragna could instantly know techniques, whereas Encrid had to examine the reasoning and process behind them.
And that’s exactly what he did.
It didn’t take long, though his thoughts raced, only a short amount of physical time passed.
Encrid understood the tactical thinking behind the fairies’ combat.
‘I use accelerated thought.’
From an outsider’s perspective, it probably seemed like he was thinking dozens of thoughts simultaneously.
But internally, his process was linear, he simply thought at an abnormal speed.
What the fairies displayed, however, was different.
‘Silver Sword in the right hand, Ember in the left.’
It was like wielding two swords.
The fairies were splitting their thoughts, operating with dual focus.
Now that he had seen it, Encrid felt he might be able to replicate it after some practice.
Not right away, because Encrid wasn’t the kind to grasp things immediately.
He hadn’t been born with that kind of talent.
There was a time when he longed for such talent, but he no longer did.
Because even if he couldn’t do something instantly, the seed of understanding had been planted within him.
‘If I master it through years of effort, I won’t forget it easily. I’ll be able to revisit and refine every step of the process.’
In simpler terms, he could theoretically understand what others might only grasp intuitively.
Encrid didn’t mind this approach.
And that was why he no longer wished for talent.
“We need to find the stairs leading downward.”
Bran spoke after finishing off the monsters.
More creatures kept appearing, it was natural for the drowned dead to emerge.
Twice, manticores had shown up as well.
There was no time to rest, but the threats weren’t overwhelming.
At most, they could be called pests.
The monsters weren’t like the manticore they had encountered earlier outside the labyrinth.
They weren’t colony-level threats either.
The fairies could handle them without Encrid’s help.
Of course, stamina would eventually become an issue, the sheer number of enemies made it exhausting.
Even simple labor becomes tiring if done continuously.
Pel and Luagarne took turns stepping in, and Encrid didn’t rest either.
They advanced over uneven, damp ground, now littered with monster corpses.
They also encountered annoying creatures like blood-draining flies and large leeches hiding underfoot, ready to latch onto their legs.
The blood-draining flies were particularly troublesome, causing persistent bleeding if they managed to bite.
Avoiding their bites was crucial.
The fairies handled them by slicing through the air with precise strikes, but there seemed to be no end to them.
“These pests were a problem last time, too.”
Bran said.
Since his wooden skin made him immune to bites, he didn’t bother actively killing them.
He simply swatted a few with his hand.
Thud.
Bran caught one and smashed it against the wall, leaving black blood and crushed flesh streaked across the surface.
It wasn’t a pleasant sight.
Encrid, meanwhile, swatted them down with his bare fists, not even bothering to draw his swords.
“They’re annoying.”
Luagarne muttered, then set her whip ablaze.
The area instantly lit up.
She swung the flaming whip, creating a fiery gust.
The heat scorched the flies mid-air, burning them to ashes.
The swirling flames looked more like a spell than a weapon.
Noticing Encrid’s intrigued gaze, Luagarne commented.
“An enchanted weapon’s effectiveness depends on how you use it.”
Even after clearing the flies, they continued walking for quite some time.
“This place is too big.”
Pel remarked.
Bran nodded and replied.
“If we’re lucky, two days. If not, three.”
The labyrinth lived up to its name.
Even finding the right path was a challenge.
Without Bran, they likely would’ve wandered aimlessly.
Eventually, after what felt like half a day—
“I found it.”
Bran said.
He hadn’t memorized the layout, he identified the location based on the monsters.
“Those creatures are guarding the stairs.”
Looking ahead, Encrid saw several drowned corpses.
They were unusual, not ordinary monsters.
And there were quite a few of them.
“They don’t die easily.”
Bran added.
The fairies’ tension was palpable.
Even Encrid could tell these enemies weren’t simple.
Above the shoulders of the drowned corpses, something flickered— Formless, shadowy figures.
These were no ordinary monsters— they were drowned corpses possessed by spirits.
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