The Second Level of the Labyrinth (2)
On the morning of the third day since entering the labyrinth, the group finally emerged from the cave after dealing with creatures resembling giant beetles the size of wolves.
“This is… the second level of the labyrinth.”
“Ha, it’s been a while.”
A hot wind brushed against their faces and clothes. The enforcer and the dwarf each reacted differently as they stepped onto the sandy terrain.
Dalen scratched his chin. To him, the view was no different from what he had seen countless times through a monitor.
A desert stretched endlessly in all directions, with scorching winds blowing from every side. The heat rising from the sand made his feet feel stifled inside his boots.
Except for the cave entrance they had just exited, there was nothing but barren sand as far as the eye could see.
“The second level of the labyrinth. The Scorching Desert.”
Unlike the first level, which was a mix of forests, swamps, and plains, the second level was entirely desert. It resembled the deserts of the surface world but was fundamentally different. While surface deserts were heated by the sun, the sand here emitted its own light and heat.
True to its nickname, the Scorching Desert was a place that seemed to burn on its own.
“It feels like my feet are going to cook.”
“At night, you’ll feel like you’re freezing. In this sandy hell, the nights are as cold as the winters of Tsarland.”
Having grown somewhat closer over the past few days, Sasha and Bjorn exchanged small talk as they surveyed their surroundings.
Dalen walked a few steps ahead on the gritty sand and pulled a transparent glass orb from his pocket.
“Oh, isn’t that a fragment of the Seeker’s Left Eye?”
Bjorn, intrigued by the glass orb with a floating blue metal arrow, stroked his beard with interest. Sasha also glanced at it curiously.
It wasn’t surprising. This item, retrieved from the underground ruins of the Holy Knights’ headquarters, was a relic with powerful tracking abilities. Though less famous than legendary swords or armor, its capabilities were among the best of its kind.
For someone like a Tsarland enforcer or a hero-level artisan who could handle explosives, not knowing about it would be more unusual.
“Sienna.”
Murmuring the name of the person he was targeting, Dalen focused on visualizing the information.
A broker with long black hair and eyes, known for her mischievous smile and long eyelashes. She preferred tea over alcohol and was a paradoxical spellcaster who hated owing anyone but cherished those close to her.
“And Eclasia.”
This was the surname passed down through the lineage of the youngest of the thirteen witches born from the primordial witch, the Witch of Feathers. It was a symbol of power that Sienna had been born with, sealed away to survive, and now sought to reclaim.
As soon as he infused the orb with magic, the needle spun wildly, slowing as the image became clearer. When he mentioned the witch’s surname, the blue metal needle trembled and then stopped, pointing beyond the horizon.
Dalen smiled faintly as he looked at the needle.
“She’s here.”
“Here? Who are you talking about?”
“Sienna.”
The dwarf, who had been puzzled, finally realized.
The Seeker’s Left Eye fragment was a powerful relic that could function without much hindrance even if the target was on the opposite side of the continent. However, unlike a single physical space, the labyrinth was a world where each level was a separate realm.
The fact that the Seeker’s Left Eye fragment worked perfectly in this twisted world meant that the target and the user were on the same level.
Sienna was currently on the second level of the labyrinth, somewhere in this vast Scorching Desert, leading an underprepared vanguard to pursue the rebels.
“The rebels’ ultimate goal is the third level of the labyrinth, isn’t it?”
“Yes. According to Basilikov, there’s a sanctuary revealed by a demon on the third level.”
“Then the vanguard will eventually head to the third level as well.”
Sasha nodded.
The rebel demon worshippers had dispatched a force of 150 to the third level of the labyrinth to form a summoning contract with Kalkas of the Chain Throne. Unlike the unified special forces under one royal family, they were divided into seven factions, each following their own prince or princess. Even in peacetime, internal checks made it difficult for them to unite their strength, let alone in a large-scale operation like this.
As a result, they split into about ten smaller parties to enter the labyrinth.
Thus, the vanguard, which Sienna had joined as a guide, had two missions. The first was to pursue and eliminate the rebel explorer parties, which had become easier to handle after splitting into more than ten groups. The second was to, if possible, overtake them and block the entrance from the second to the third level of the labyrinth.
“Let’s go.”
Dalen tucked the glass orb back into his pocket and began to walk ahead.
Two hours.
That was the maximum time the elite special forces, selected from the Iron Blood Army, could march in the heat of the Scorching Desert.
“Huff. Huff…”
“It’s too hot. It feels like I’m walking into a furnace.”
“Is the vanguard even alive? How can they endure this heat?”
The agents, without exception, opened their canteens and gulped down water. They poured some over their heads and clothes to cool down, but even the leather canteens had become hot to the touch.
“Tsk, tsk, such fuss.”
“That’s a bit harsh. Only dwarves can handle this heat.”
“My kin are indeed resistant to heat and cold. But isn’t there a human mercenary walking just fine over there?”
Bjorn pointed at Dalen. Walking without a care, Dalen turned back at the mention.
“Let’s consider him an exception.”
Sasha shook her head. Her face was flushed from the heat, with beads of sweat forming on her chin.
Dalen paused for a moment. He redirected some of his senses, which were on alert for danger, to assess the condition of the special forces agents.
“Hmm.”
It was quite dire.
Chapped lips and unfocused eyes were the least of their worries. Many already had light burns and blisters on their feet.
Unsteady heartbeats and labored breathing.
Trembling eyelids and limbs were likely due to abnormally high body temperatures.
It was an expected outcome.
Though all the agents were skilled warriors capable of wielding magic, not all of them could transcend human limits. Even the most extraordinary individuals would struggle to remain unaffected by the heat of the Scorching Desert.
In games, even seasoned players would suffer from heatstroke, dehydration, hallucinations, and exhaustion in such conditions.
Dalen remained unaffected because he had awakened his full dragon blood, granting him extraordinary resistance to heat.
[Kyuu.]
Moreover, the baby dragon clinging to his left arm like a tattoo would sensibly blow cool air whenever it got too hot.
Without such aids, the mental fortitude of the special forces, who kept up without falling behind, was commendable. Especially considering they hailed from the northern Tsarland, where they were more accustomed to cold than heat.
“Let’s rest over there.”
After some thought, Dalen pointed to a nearby sand pit.
A collective sigh of relief escaped from the special forces agents.
A camp was swiftly set up.
It took only thirty minutes to lay down thin leather mats with heat-resistant enchantments and erect several tents on top.
Typically, when exploring the Scorching Desert, it was best to rest during the day and travel at night. While the cold could be managed with layers of clothing, there was no solution for the heat rising from the sand.
Carrying cold-attribute magical items might help, but it would also exponentially increase the chances of becoming easy prey for monsters.
However, this situation was different.
The mode of transportation Dalen was targeting was only active during the day. Given the nature of the creatures nesting in the heart of the Scorching Desert, they needed to venture further in to increase their chances of encountering one.
“Now that we’re out of the outermost region, we might be lucky enough to find one.”
As Dalen chewed on some jerky, Sasha approached and sat beside him.
“About the plan you mentioned yesterday.”
Her face, slightly less flushed from the heat, showed a hint of concern.
“I haven’t told the troops yet, but are you sure about this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I understand it’s an effective means of transportation, but isn’t it too dangerous…?”
Sasha trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed to be discussing danger as a member of the special forces. After all, every moment in the labyrinth was fraught with peril, a fact she was well aware of.
Instead of chiding her, Dalen stood up and spoke.
“The vanguard couldn’t have caught all the rebels. No matter how skilled the guide, it’s impossible to track down every scattered rebel party in this vast desert.”
By now, a few of the rebel party must have already reached the entrance to the third floor. Dalen fiddled with the head of his axe and added, “The advance team has two choices. They can either set out two weeks late and wait indefinitely for us, who can’t even communicate due to the magical winds of the labyrinth, or…”
“Or they can descend to the third floor with limited forces to try and stop the ritual,” someone interjected.
“Exactly,” Dalen nodded. “If the loyalty of the special forces is as I’ve heard, they’ll likely choose the latter. That’s why we must hurry, even if it means risking everything.”
The advance team consisted of forty members. Even with Sienna’s prowess, given her current limitations, it was impossible to avoid casualties entirely. Having fought through the labyrinth and against the rebels, it wouldn’t be surprising if nearly half had perished. Charging into the demon’s ritual site with the remaining twenty or so was sheer madness.
‘It’s not just about harnessing the demon’s power; it’s a direct summoning contract, making it even more dangerous.’
But the special forces of the Tsar’s nation were known for their unwavering loyalty. They wouldn’t hesitate to risk their lives when their homeland was at stake. Sienna, too, had her reasons to confront Kalkas, so she would join the reckless assault without hesitation.
That’s why Dalen was in such a rush. He needed to reach the entrance to the third floor as quickly as possible to prevent the advance team and Sienna from making a reckless decision.
“Fortunately, luck is on our side,” Dalen muttered.
“What?” Sasha tilted her head in confusion.
Just then, Bjorn approached, shotgun in hand. “I agree. Normally, this would be considered bad luck, but right now, it feels like fortune is smiling on us. There’s something reassuring about being with this guy.”
“Is that a dwarf thing? You’ve got a good sense,” Dalen replied.
“Well, we do spend a lot of time underground, sometimes for over a century. But for you to sense it before me, that’s impressive!” Bjorn laughed heartily.
Sasha had no idea what they were talking about. What was lucky or unlucky about their situation?
But soon, even her finely-tuned senses picked up a subtle vibration. “Could it be… this tremor?”
“Not bad for a human. I’ll give you a pass!” Bjorn chuckled.
The ground rumbled. It wasn’t like an earthquake, where the entire earth seemed to sway. This felt more like someone deep underground was knocking on the surface.
Dalen, having lived in the modern world, had felt something similar before. It reminded him of the vibrations from a massive excavator digging into the earth when he worked as a safety manager at a tunnel construction site.
The rumbling grew stronger. Agents who had been lounging around sensed the unusual disturbance and stood up. The sand dunes began to shift, and the leather mats and tents started to tremble. Sasha quickly loaded her rifle and shouted, “Special forces, prepare for battle!”
At her command, the entire team swiftly armed themselves and loaded their rifles.
Meanwhile, Bjorn, eyes closed, calculated the tremors and lit the fuse of a stick of dynamite in his hand. Dalen drew his spear, realizing his hand axe wouldn’t be enough.
The vibrations intensified, shaking the tents and even their bodies. Then, suddenly, the tremors stopped.
A few seconds later, a massive column erupted from the top of the sand dune, as if the earth itself had been torn open.
A creature emerged, its body as thick as several ancient trees combined. The exposed length alone was dozens of meters, and its ochre scales were large enough to cover several grown men.
The creature’s maw, rotating like an ancient dwarven drill, was lined with thousands of teeth capable of grinding the bedrock of the desert with ease. It was one of the desert’s apex predators, a creature synonymous with the second floor of the labyrinth.
“A sandworm,” Dalen muttered.
Even the seasoned special forces agents were left gaping, their rifles trembling in their hands at the sight of the monstrous creature.
Dalen, holding the latest masterpiece of Laveron Ahakim, spun it in his hand and leaped into the air with a fierce grin.
With a powerful leap, a small pillar of sand erupted from where his feet had left the ground.
“Renia—Basak,” he chanted, enveloping his weapon in lightning with the power of the enchanted sword. In a flash, he closed the distance to the creature’s head.
The small scales around the creature’s maw quivered and opened, revealing thousands of black eyes that focused intently on Dalen.
The creature’s maw opened wide, sparks flying from the friction, and a powerful curse shot from its gaze.
But the demon, lurking in its pocket dimension, began to moan in delight, realizing the curse had no effect.
Sensing something was amiss, the creature’s eyes widened in realization.
“What are you staring at?” Dalen taunted.
With a crackling surge of electricity, Dalen propelled himself forward, driving the lightning-charged spear into the creature’s scales.