Headwind (1)
The sand and dirt sank deeply around their ankles. The ground, heavy with moisture, was practically a swamp.
Streams of water trickled down the slopes of the sand dunes, ranging from small rivulets to deep channels that could easily submerge a person.
This was the entrance to the third level of the labyrinth.
Near this massive sinkhole, where a damp updraft constantly surged, was the only water source in the otherwise parched desert.
“Be careful. The water here is mixed with all sorts of sediment and unstable magical particles. It’s fine if it gets in your nose or mouth, but drinking it is a bad idea,” warned Bjorn to the special unit agents.
At his words, a few agents who had been eyeing the stream hesitated and looked away.
Enforcer Sasha walked around, giving a sharp slap on the back to those agents. She spoke sternly, “Stay alert. This is a labyrinth. Your enemies aren’t just the rebels you want to tear apart! Everything here is out to get you.”
“Yes, ma’am!” the agents shouted, snapping to attention. Sasha handed out hooks, spikes, and ropes to those she had reprimanded.
“We’re descending to the third level of the labyrinth. Tie yourselves together with the ropes,” she ordered.
The agents began securing themselves with ropes.
To descend to the second level, one had to navigate the long tunnels at the north, south, east, and west of the first level. The method to reach the third level was simpler: just descend through the hole in the middle of the desert.
The only problem was the powerful updraft that never ceased in that hole.
The wind, laden with moisture, was strong enough to easily lift a person off their feet.
That’s why, despite descending a sheer cliff, they prepared as if they were rock climbing, tying themselves with ropes and readying spikes to anchor into the wall.
Gulp.
One of the agents swallowed nervously. Bjorn, trying to reassure them, said, “Don’t worry. Unlike the caves, there are hardly any monsters down there. Just think of it as climbing a rock wall.”
The dwarf chuckled, patting their backs, his usual explosive demeanor replaced by the warmth of a kindly uncle.
Dalen, who had just finished tying the rope around himself, chuckled at the sight. Sienna, who was securing spikes to her belt, did the same.
With a sly smile, she remarked, “I heard it’s getting harder to get some of the ingredients for gunpowder these days. That guy’s probably sweet-talked at least a dozen special unit agents by now.”
Only counting those still alive, the informant added meaningfully.
Indeed, for an individual to acquire gunpowder, smuggling was the easiest route.
In that sense, it wasn’t strange for the one-eyed craftsman to forge personal connections with agents from the Empire or the Tsar’s country.
‘It’s true there aren’t many monsters, but it’s not like there are none at all.’
The thought crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it and finished his preparations.
He wasn’t one to believe in superstitions.
But in a world where magic and demons existed, it was best not to tempt fate.
Sienna was the only one who tilted her head in curiosity as she watched him shake his head with a sullen expression.
Before long, the group was ready to descend. The special unit agents, led by Sasha, took the lead.
Whoooosh!
The area near the hole was battered by strong winds.
With their right hand, they gripped the rocky ground tightly, while their left hand held a spike wrapped in sturdy rope.
Keeping their bodies as low as possible, they began crawling along the ground as if scaling a wall.
“Make sure to wedge the spikes into the cracks between the rocks! If your hand slips in the worst-case scenario, the spikes embedded in the rock and the rope connecting you to your comrades will be your lifeline!” Sasha shouted.
A few agents carefully wedged their spikes into the cracks in the ground.
Meanwhile, Dalen casually shoved a spike into the rocky floor.
At first, the rock resisted, but with a bit of force, it split open, accepting the spike.
Whoooosh! Flutter!
The group slowly began to make their way into the passage.
The deeper they went, the stronger the wind became. It felt like being in the eye of a storm.
Their hair and clothes flapped wildly, and if they lifted their heads even slightly, the wind pressure flattened their cheeks and mouths.
“Ughhh!”
The dwarf shouted with a flattened face, and Dalen couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.
It reminded him of a video he had seen long ago on YouTube, where a soldier stuck his head out of a helicopter and ended up with a similar expression.
Screeeech!
Just then, a spike wedged into a rock creaked ominously.
Ping! Clatter!
One of them popped out entirely, flapping towards the top of the hole, still attached to the rope.
“Ugh…!”
“Retrieve any dislodged spikes immediately! We can’t have anyone getting hurt!” Sasha shouted again. Her voice, amplified with magic, barely reached the agents through the howling wind.
“Aaaah!”
“Pull the rope! Pull it!”
Of course, regardless of their superior’s orders, the agents were too busy screaming at the spikes flying towards them.
Fortunately, their screams were quickly swallowed by the wind, and the agent managed to pull the rope and retrieve the spike.
The group continued their slow but steady descent into the hole.
Though they avoided any major accidents, their stamina was gradually being pushed to its limits.
Whoooosh!
Their fingers, strained from gripping against the wind, turned white, and small abrasions appeared all over their bodies.
With their bodies hanging upside down, blood began to rush to their heads, while their bodies felt like they could be swept out of the pit at any moment.
The fact that there were no casualties in such a situation was a testament to the extreme training the Tsar’s royal special unit had undergone.
At the very front of the passage, Sasha suddenly frowned.
As soon as she stopped, her limbs trembled, and the wind battered her clothes.
They had been crawling against the wind for three hours now. But that wasn’t why she hesitated.
It was the dull warning from her instincts that had suddenly crossed her mind.
As she slowly backed away and squinted, she noticed a faint line blocking her path.
A thin, almost invisible wire in the moisture-laden wind.
‘Trap.’
The word sprang to mind instinctively, and she tensed up, shouting to her subordinates at the same time.
“Watch out! The rebels have set a trap…!”
Ping…!
But her warning came too late.
One of the agents, advancing at the front like her, got caught on the thin wire.
Ting-ting-ting…!
The thin spikes and wires embedded in the walls began to pop out in quick succession.
The agent, realizing too late that they had triggered a tripwire, pressed themselves against the wall.
And then.
“Everyone, hold on tight…!”
Boom!
Before Sasha could finish her shout, an explosion erupted from the opposite wall, echoing through the passage.
Fortunately, the explosion subsided quickly.
To be precise, the constant updraft and the moisture it carried swept the explosion’s impact upwards.
It was a relief that the explosion had occurred on the opposite side of the passage; if the explosives had been planted nearby, the entire group would have been caught in the wind.
Caught in the swirling currents, they would have been smashed against the walls with no chance of survival.
“We were almost in serious trouble,” Bjorn said, panting with a pale face, having realized what had happened.
Beside him, Dalen calmly held onto a rocky outcrop with one hand, stroking his chin.
“It’s too early to relax.”
“Is that so? But the explosion just…”
“The explosion isn’t the problem. It’s the vibrations it sent through the entire passage.”
Dalen quickly extended his senses throughout the passage.
He examined the twisted magical currents and scanned the walls and crevices with his other senses.
Between the cracks in the rocks, he soon sensed a predatory intent.
The explosion had awakened the only creatures that inhabited this passage.
The problem was that there weren’t just one or two of them, but dozens, if not hundreds.
“They’re coming.”
“Dalen? What on earth…?”
Clang!
A translucent tentacle collided with the double-headed axe he instinctively swung, bouncing off.
The tentacle, undeterred by the axe blade, sparked against the metal.
‘Tentacle Maw.’
He recalled the name of the monster he hadn’t thought of in a long time. Dalen drew his axe from his belt.
And with that, screams began to echo from all around.
“Ugh…!”
“Aaah! The tentacles!”
“Watch your back!”
The air in the passage, thick with moisture and almost like fog, was filled with the cries of agents as dozens of tentacles lashed out at them.
“A monster attack! Arm yourselves!”
“But if we let go, we’ll be swept away! What do we do?”
“Trust the ropes and fight! That’s why we drove in those stakes!”
“They can’t hold all of our weight!”
Amidst the screams, shouts echoed back and forth. They were caught in a dire predicament.
Moving forward meant they couldn’t defend against the attack, but responding seemed equally impossible.
Their limbs, already pushed to the limit, were barely managing to cling to the wall.
The stakes driven into the rock could only hold them for a short while; they wouldn’t last long on their own.
At the very back of the group, Dalen watched the chaos unfold, his hand idly caressing the handle of his axe. He spoke up.
“Sienna.”
“Yes?”
“Shield the agents. Don’t overdo it, just cover as many as you can. And Bjorn.”
“You want me to drive them off with an explosion? I’ll give it a shot, though I’m not sure how effective it’ll be with this humidity.”
“Just buying us some time will be enough.”
Bjorn nodded. Sienna interjected.
“What about you? You’re not planning to fight them alone, are you…?”
She stopped mid-sentence, caught off guard by Dalen’s smile.
It was a smile unlike his usual one, a grin that curled up slightly at the corners.
His lips, neither light nor gentle, revealed sharp canines glinting with a predator’s hunger.
It was the same smile he’d worn facing the corpse giants of hell, the labyrinthine gnolls, and the man-eating dark sorcerers.
A smile that hadn’t wavered even before the deputy commander who summoned hell, or when confronted with the blue-scaled drakes and massive sandworms.
Since acquiring this body that could bend steel with ease, the expression had settled in without him even realizing, through countless battles.
Whether it was greed for the spoils of victory or a newfound enjoyment of the fight itself, even he no longer knew.
But that didn’t matter.
What mattered was the chance to grow stronger by defeating these creatures.
And perhaps, at the end of this final cycle, to overcome the apocalypse.
Somewhere along the way, even the fight against the end of the world had stopped feeling like a burden.
Maybe the faint hope of victory had lightened its weight.
If so, he would simply tip the scales of possibility further toward that hope.
With a swift motion, Dalen swung his axe. The rope snapped with a soft thud.
The ropes connected to the stakes were severed with a casual flick of his hand.
“Time to earn some experience.”
With those words, he pushed off the cliff, his massive body floating effortlessly, caught in the air currents.
In that fleeting moment, divine power shimmered like a mirage, resonating along the axe blade.
Dalen’s eyes gleamed with magical light.
Through the mist, his vision pierced illusions and spells, capturing the image of an enforcer gritting their teeth, fending off tentacles.
A brief moment of focus was all he needed.
With a crackling sound, a clear form materialized on the axe blade.
Beyond his blurred right hand, the hand axe had already vanished.
In a flash, he crossed the space—not once, but five times.
With each stop, a chilling sound of flesh being torn echoed, and translucent, wolf-sized fish-like creatures were sliced in two.
Ignoring the fierce winds, translucent blood splattered in all directions, fluorescent hearts and writhing entrails glistening.
Seeing his axe cleave through the tentacled maw threatening Sasha and embed itself in the wall, Dalen drew the spear from his back.
With a light thrust, he sent ripples through the air, descending against the current.
His eyes, wide open against the fierce wind, began to glow with a deep red magical light.
His gaze fixed on the tail of a fiery serpent, blazing beyond the realm of imagination.
It was the moment when a small flame, kindled near the domain’s hut more than half a year ago, was reborn as a new possibility.