TOTAL VICTORY

A full week had passed since the labyrinthine invasion began. One by one, the gate took in all those Empire soldiers—and still it remained silent.

Caligulio had to bide his time seething to himself over the unannounced news, the undelivered reports. That frustration was his body’s way of disguising the fear his instincts were manufacturing for him. Even at this late stage, he still had no contact with the other troops—and on top of that, all contact with the rest of the labyrinth was gone. At first glance, they seemed completely isolated behind enemy lines, which unnerved Caligulio.

“No one’s returned yet? Still?!”

There was no answer to his ranting—and that, in a way, was the best answer they could give him.

Both Caligulio and his staff officers knew the situation wasn’t looking good now. On the first day, they had sent squadrons of soldiers inside on multiple occasions, and they had brought intel on the labyrinth back for him. Nobody could get back out, but they could still initially communicate with the people inside, at least. Compiling what they relayed to him, he was able to get a rough idea of their status.

Upon entering the labyrinth, soldiers were required to confirm that they wished to remain inside. Once they did, they were presented with the conditions for beating the labyrinth:

DEFEAT THE TEN MARVELS WITHIN AND COLLECT THE TEN KEYS IN THEIR POSSESSION. DOING SO WILL GRANT YOU THE RIGHT TO CHALLENGE THE KING OF THE LABYRINTH. DEFEAT THE KING, AND YOU WILL HAVE BEATEN THE LABYRINTH.

They all thought it’d be easy at first, but now they had to admit it was a bad decision on their parts.

According to the information they managed to gather, the labyrinth contained at least fifty floors. Troops coming in would be transported to different floors in turns, a thousand at a time. That allowed new soldiers to eventually reach out to those who entered earlier, but these contacts didn’t begin to happen until over fifty thousand soldiers had stormed in.

Given the repeated sorties over three days, there were probably going to be fifty-four or so floors down there. The report from Shinji’s party, as given by Yuuki, stated that the labyrinth contained sixty floors, but it had become clear fairly early on that this intel was shaky at best.

After all, the strength of the monsters inside was far different from what they had heard. Shinji’s claim that the wight king was the boss of the labyrinth pretty much destroyed any shred of his credibility. The wight king’s floor was discovered on day two, judging by the reports, and apparently he was but one of the so-called Ten Dungeon Marvels. Some among Caligulio’s staff still feared that the rumors were true…but either way, nobody was smiling now.

“Even for our finest elites, it must be a great challenge…”

“Indeed, sir. If we don’t do something, I fear this entire invasion might end in failure.”

Caligulio shuddered. This was not acceptable to him. “Mission failed” was easy enough to say, but it translated to the deaths of five hundred thirty thousand imperial soldiers. Those were granted to him by Emperor Ludora, and every single one of them was a valued asset—there was no way he could simply abandon them all.

But they were still just seven days in. They had plenty of time before their scheduled limit; they must’ve still been fighting away inside the labyrinth. All Caligulio could do was trust in that and wait. That should’ve been the right option, but Caligulio—really, his entire staff, too—felt they were traversing a path straight to failure like this.

It was the Ten Marvels who made them think this way. Currently, the imperial soldiers had obtained four of the “keys” mentioned in the rules—specifically from the four Dragon Lords, who would apparently revive themselves again and again if beaten. As for the remaining six Marvels, however, nobody on the field had any idea how to even hurt them.

That was certainly true for the wight king, but even the Death Paladin by his side was a menace. Then there was the queen of the insects, the mistress overseeing a pack of magical beasts, and the attacking golem nicknamed the ghost of Gadora by the troops. And they didn’t even know the identity of the tenth and final one at all.

Unless they could defeat these six, beating the labyrinth was a pipe dream. And both Caligulio and his staff unanimously agreed that it simply wasn’t possible with the fighting force currently in the labyrinth.

“At this rate, we could put everything the Empire’s got in there and achieve nothing.”

“Indeed, sir.”

“That would be a waste of resources. It’d also affect our defenses here on the surface.”

So what were they to do? There was only one answer. They’d have to conquer the labyrinth the way it was always supposed to be conquered—with a small team of elites. But if that was their option, the question became who they would pick for the job.

After stewing over it for a little while, he decided to gather the best people who remained among the surface forces, a total of one hundred men and women. Only those who were truly elite (or at least, powerful and ready to show it) were recruited.

Sitting in the front row was an elegant-looking gentleman, wearing a neatly starched uniform despite being in a military field camp. This man’s name was Minitz, a high-ranked major general. Caligulio trusted him more than anyone else, making him his pick to command this operation.

Next to Minitz was a man smoking a cigarette, looking like he was pondering the sheer futility of life. His fearless gaze, as if staring down his prey, and his well-kept beard instilled a sense of awe in anyone who encountered him. Fortunately for him, he also had the talent to ensure that he never betrayed the expectations of anyone who challenged him.

This was Colonel Kanzis, a true champion with countless glorious achievements to his name—most notably, the notorious Operation Mystic Sweep, which he had personally commanded. He always kept a dignified demeanor, perhaps a sign of his supreme self-confidence; even when dealing with superior officers, he never showed a hint of fear. Very few people warned Kanzis about this, and they had no right to—he reported directly to Minitz, and Minitz tolerated his attitude well enough. Caligulio had his thoughts about this, but not to the point that he’d complain about one of the Empire’s most famed heroes. He left Kanzis’s handling entirely to Minitz, so if Kanzis went out of line here, there’d be no one to stop him.

Among the rest of the group of one hundred, Lucius and Raymond stood out in particular. They were both otherworlders. Lucius possessed the unique skill Fusionist, letting him set off highly explosive attacks that were the talk of the imperial army. Raymond, on the other hand, had the unique skill Combatant. As a former martial artist, this was basically his old job taking skill form—it made him a first-class fighter, mastering any weapon, fighting style, and Art he had learned in this world.

Those were the four most famous names, but the others were also walking armies of their own. They all ranked at least an A, and even among the Empire’s illustrious ranks, each was a one-in-ten-thousand talent. These one hundred people alone could destroy the knight corps of entire nations, and now Caligulio was entrusting the entire operation to this set of champions.

“All right. You understand the situation?”

They all silently nodded. Some—like Kanzis, of course—smirked at the question, but most were earnestly listening to Caligulio’s words.

“Our comrades in the labyrinth are currently awaiting relief. In order to leave, we must satisfy all the conditions, and that includes defeating the demon lord. My Armored Division is the strongest in the Empire, and I know they’re up to solving this most difficult of tasks. But ah, there is no time to waste!”

The labyrinth was not the kind of place you could overrun with human-wave tactics. Caligulio understood that now, although he could never honestly say so, lest he torpedoed his army’s morale. So he embellished things a bit as he spoke.

“You must defeat these so-called Ten Marvels and retrieve the ten keys they possess. That will apparently give you the right to challenge the demon lord himself. This is exactly what I expect you do to. The demon lord must be taken down!”

That was the mission he gave to the best the Armored Division had to offer.

“We accept, Lord Caligulio. The demon lord is no enemy of ours, for we are the glorious army of the Empire. Now it is time to prove that to you!”

It was Minitz, highest ranked among the group, who answered on the division’s behalf. With a graceful bow, he promised complete victory for his side, and no one around him had a single discouraging word. These were the brave heroes who would challenge the demon lord in his own domain.

But they were ignorant, and that ignorance was what kept them hopeful. They were unaware of the dangers the labyrinth held. Now would have been the perfect time to retreat—but it was too late.

Caligulio’s decision had simply come too late. The battle inside the labyrinth was already over. Nobody was left alive. But not realizing any of that, the chosen heroes marched into this dreadful labyrinth in the highest of spirits.

After being enthralled with the big screen for a fairly extended period of time, we had finally decided to take a break.

I just… I dunno. I guess I saw this coming. The Empire definitely ignored the warning on the gate, that’s for sure—and in epic fashion, too. In fact, they sent even more soldiers into the labyrinth than we anticipated.

“Amazing. Better than I ever thought it’d go.”

Benimaru nodded at me. “Indeed, and none of them were strong enough to cause particular concern. The Ten Dungeon Marvels must truly be that powerful, yes, but perhaps this is going to be easier than I thought.”

Even so, he wasn’t being careless. In fact, his attention was already back on the surface.

“Looks like there’s some more movement,” I said.

“Yes. I think they’re selecting a group this time, rather than relying on sheer numbers. I wish they could have reached that conclusion sooner, though. Then maybe the labyrinth forces would’ve had more of a struggle…”

“Well, hang on, it’s still turned out real good for us, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, true enough. But when things go this well, I suppose I can’t help but feel uneasy…”

That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear from Benimaru, but based on his attitude, I imagined he saw all this as a foregone conclusion.

But I think I saw the problem. He wanted the Empire to try harder so he’d have a chance to join the fray, didn’t he? I guess I kinda understood that feeling…or maybe not… No, I mean, if I did, I’d turn into a battle maniac like all these guys, right?

I’m not like Benimaru and the rest. I’m satisfied with these results. Besides—like I’ve said tons of times—in this world, quality counts for a lot more than quantity. This specially selected force must have been the enemy’s main war power. There was a decent chance they could beat the Ten Marvels individually, so now was no time to be playing around. Our objective was to thin out the enemy forces, and we certainly succeeded there. The Empire had one hundred thousand or so troops left, and in terms of size alone, they were now winnowed down to a point where the Western Nations could handle them solo.

You know how it is. It’s like at the gambling table: having your opponent win big at first, then taking advantage after they lose sight of when to fold. You’re picturing yourself as such a winner that even if you lose big later, you’re suckered into believing you can make it all back. Even if you know it’s a logical fallacy, it can be really hard to stop, you know?

That was exactly what happened to the Empire this time, and thanks to continually deploying their forces in there, their army was now well past the point of no return. For us, that was great—mission accomplished.

I was super happy with how well everything had gone so far, but we still hadn’t achieved our secondary mission—finding the most powerful members of the imperial army. There were a few decently strong individuals, but nobody who looked like they could take me down. Still… I dunno. The Rimuru who Chloe talked about in her story hadn’t become a demon lord. His strength was probably about where I was when I lost to Hinata—sorry, tied with Hinata.

But either way, I didn’t detect any real threats here so far. Maybe that guy with the Legend-class weapon Testarossa killed? Maybe Davis, that eleventh-ranked dude, had a shot at doing me in—again, not the current me, but the me from back when I fought Hinata.

In the end, I had to conclude that this threat to my life hadn’t quite shown up yet. There was no point stewing over it, so I put the topic on hold.

What I was really curious about right then were the thoughts of the enemy commander. If the situation was this dire for them, I’d think they would opt to retreat, normally. What could he be thinking?

Understood. Since communication is cut off with the rest of their forces, he likely lacks adequate awareness of the current situation. Presumably, they are clinging to a nonexistent hope to bring them victory.

Wow, way to lay on the sarcasm, Raphael.

That sounded legit to me, but in that case, maybe we were winning the information war a little too much. If their commander had a proper grasp of the situation, maybe he would’ve retreated a lot sooner.

Negative. If you do not hit an enemy thoroughly when you can, you will leave behind enmity that may come back to haunt you later. There is no need to show mercy to the intruders.

Yikes. Rough. It was brutally rational and ruthless, but it seemed like the right answer, too. If we left a sizable enemy force behind, the Empire probably wouldn’t give up on its ambitions—but if we kept hitting ’em hard, we could probably avoid further war, at least for the time being.

Maybe it’s best to do everything halfway instead. The enemy has families, too, right? Their next of kin are bound to be sad about this.

…Ah, but if we’re thorough with making them realize their own stupidity here, maybe that’ll help deter future wars. Maybe it’s not the good-guy approach, but in terms of eliminating little flare-ups in the future, it’s the right thing to do. Bit late for that now, but still.

Regardless, unlike Raphael here, I have kind of an indecisive streak. If the enemy flees, I let them do what they want; if they come back to attack me, I crush them. I’m letting the other side take the initiative with decision-making, and maybe that’s a little naive of me. It’s something I’m aware of, but honestly, it’s just part of my nature, and I don’t think it’ll be fixed too easily. I really don’t want them to attack me, deep down—the least amount of trouble in my life, the better.

As I internally whined about this, Ramiris sent me a Thought Communication.

(Got a moment, Rimuru?)

(Sure, sure. This is Rimuru. I’m open.)

The tone of her voice suggested it was nothing urgent. What could it be?

(Right, so um, another hundred or so are coming, right?)

(Looks that way, yeah. Real strong ones this time, too.)

(Mm-hmm! So the Ten Marvels just sent me a couple of requests.)

Ramiris laid them out for me.

Request number one was proposed by Gadora. Apparently he knew a couple of the people in this elite group: Lucius and Raymond, both otherworlders. He wanted a chance to talk with them and maybe have them defect to our side.

Request number two was from Kumara. She recognized another familiar face, but unlike with Gadora, this guy wasn’t an acquaintance so much as a target for revenge. This was the very person who had destroyed the Mystic Village that was home to Kumara and her friends, then sold the young Kumara (she was already nearly three hundred years old by that point, but still) to Clayman. I had no idea some bastard that vicious was working for the Empire. Eesh.

So those were the two requests. Now, what to do about them?

“What do you think, Benimaru?”

“Well, the human-wave approach is a good shortcut to victory, but it’s not exactly pretty. I realize there’s no such thing as a ‘pretty’ or an ‘ugly’ war, but I think we’re safe in granting Gadora’s wish. If he gets them to join us, then great; if not, it won’t hurt us very much.”

Seemed legit to me. It’d help us spread the enemy around, besides. I’ll let Gadora reach out to that pair, then. As for Kumara:

“No one seeking vengeance wants to be stopped in their quest.”

Benimaru putting it that way sure made it sound heavy. And come to think of it, hadn’t Kumara been under the thrall of Clayman’s Demon Dominate skill? If the man who brought her to that fiend was back here at the labyrinth, it was only natural that she’d be out for revenge. They say that nothing fruitful actually comes from revenge, but personally, I think it can bring closure. If you’ve got a lot of mixed-up feelings, it’s better to let them all out and free yourself, isn’t it?

(Okay, Ramiris, you’ve got my approval on both.)

(Oh, great! Thanks so much, Rimuru! You’re soooo understanding!)

(We’d like to get the enemy spread out anyway, so why don’t we do this? You can send Lucius and Raymond over to Gadora, and Kumara can have that, um…)

(The bearded dude! We don’t know his name, but he’s sure got a nasty face, doesn’t he?)

Something told me Ramiris was really favoring Kumara here. But I was with her on that.

(Yeah, send him over to her. And tell her I said good luck!)

(Okay! I’m on it!)

So I accepted the requests. Now, where should we send the rest of the Empire’s elites?

“I think that man over there is the commander. I’d suggest we give him to Apito to execute, Sir Rimuru. Alone.”

Benimaru could really stand to phrase things a little more lightly. Wasn’t he just talking about fighting “pretty” and “ugly” and stuff? I was amazed he was so eager to aim for a murderous strategy like that. But…yeah, I’d accept it.

(Also, Ramiris, that well-dressed middle-aged dude over there is the commander, I think, so can you send him alone over to Apito?)

(Him, huh? Taking away the commander so the whole team loses cohesion, eh? Great idea, Rimuru! I tell ya, you come up with the dirtiest tactics!)

…Pardon? Why was I the bad guy now?! And here Ramiris, completely ignoring my surprise, was remarking about how devious I was.

(And as for the other hundred-ish… You wanna just let ’em at Adalmann?)

(Roger that! My Dragon Lords all lost, but everyone else put in a real big effort. Let’s have ’em keep up the good work right to the end!)

She seemed a little peeved about it, but I couldn’t help her much with that. The Dragon Lords just didn’t quite have what it took to deal with a rushing army. Unlike with the other Dungeon Marvels, they resided in large arenas with lots of floor-type debuffs—great for hassling small parties, but if you had an army that could share information with each other and take countermeasures, that killed the advantage in no time flat.

Considering those circumstances, I still thought they fought pretty well. We may have had four keys taken, but the remaining six Marvels remained unbeaten. Hopefully we’d see them keep that up.

(Sounds great! But whatever you guys do, don’t let your guards down. There’s a chance they’ve got some really dangerous folks in there.)

(Oh, we’ll be fine, we’ll be fine! Besides, everyone’s itching to go hard now that they know you’re watching. And we’ve always got Master Veldora as king of the labyrinth, right?)

Good point. The idea here was to collect ten keys and beat the “king of the labyrinth,” after all. I found it hard to imagine Veldora taking a dive, so at least we could always rely on him.

(Right, right. Okay, best of luck out there!)

(You got it, Boss! See yaaaaaa!!)

With that excited farewell, Ramiris shut off the Thought Communication. Just a little bit more effort now, I supposed, and we’d be done. I turned my eyes back toward the big screen again, excited to watch the final battle.

Lucius and Raymond sat down on the stairway, breathing hard as they drank some water. The reports indicated that there were never monsters on the stairs, and while it’d be dangerous to take that for granted, it seemed safer than anywhere else, hence why they chose that for a resting spot.

………

……

…

Being summoned by Commander Caligulio and ordered to enter the labyrinth elicited no complaints from them. Just like Shinji and his band, Lucius and Raymond were otherworlders picked up by Master Gadora. He had kept them fed and protected back when they didn’t know right from left in this world, and they owed him a debt of gratitude for that.

But now Gadora was missing. He had led a special team on a mission to the territory of the demon lord Rimuru. He had come back once, although none of the other team members did; he told Yuuki they had been killed in battle. Then, not long afterward, Gadora himself vanished. There were a couple plausible rumors going around that Gadora had ventured back out to rescue his teammates. Those who knew Gadora’s personality found that a little farfetched, but if it was true, they couldn’t ignore that.

Besides, the people who joined Gadora—the ones said to have died in battle—were all very well-known to Lucius and Raymond. They were Shinji Tanimura, Marc Lauren, and Zhen Liuxing, and they had all become good friends after traveling to this world. Their deaths were hard to swallow, but the fact was that they hadn’t been seen in the Empire since. They had been sent to investigate the labyrinth, and Lucius was sure something happened between them and the demon lord Rimuru. It was reasonable to think that they tried taking him on, then died in the effort.

Some of the otherworlders like him were sad to see Shinji and his friends gone. Lucius and Raymond were no exception, and many others expressed their sorrow as well. Being from the same place had a way of instilling this sort of solidarity like that. Besides, Shinji was something of a leader type, a kind young man who never abandoned those in need. He could be a bit insensitive, but a lot of people looked up to him.

Lucius and Raymond both owed Gadora. They also wanted to find out if three close friends of theirs were safe. So after some discussion among their peers, it was decided that the two of them, having the most combat power out of their group, would go undercover on this campaign.

They immediately proposed the idea to Yuuki, who promptly rejected it. “It’s really dangerous to act right now,” he said. “All kinds of things are getting jumbled together, so I’d keep laying low if I were you. I can’t go into details, sadly, but I’m sure Shinji and his friends are fine, so…”

If Yuuki called it dangerous, it must really have been dangerous. But not everyone was willing to accept that. If their fates remained uncertain, some Empire otherworlder was bound to take matters into their own hands and take off for the Forest of Jura solo. And if it was gonna come to that, they all figured, they might as well send the combat specialist of the gang first, so they could deal better with whatever came along. Lucius was originally going to act on his own, but Raymond wound up joining him; they both secured transfers from the Composite Division to the Armored Division to join this operation, and neither of them told Yuuki about it.

With those motivations in mind, both Lucius and Raymond were waiting for Caligulio to give them the order sooner or later, and yet…

………

……

…

“Y’know, I’m startin’ to think going in was a big mistake.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I didn’t think the opposition would be this strong.”

They had both been dropped into Floor 59. They were originally going to be tossed right into Floor 60, not that they were aware of that—but there was a chance this duo was hiding their true abilities or that they were someone else entirely disguised as these two, so they wanted to test them out first. (This was the strategy proposed by Rimuru—or Raphael, really—and Ramiris accepted it, although she remarked about how oddly wary a move it was.)

So the pair were exposed to intense combat all across Floor 59. There was a litany of variable lasers, sonic cannons, and various other science-driven weapons. Isolation doors would come crashing down on them, locking them into rooms pumped with tasteless, odorless poison gas. All these weapons crafted in the lab on Floor 95 (currently Floor 100) had been implemented on Floor 59—and the icing on the cake was the attack golems.

These were based on materials Rimuru retrieved from the Puppet Nation of Dhistav, as discovered in the ruins of Amrita. After extensive research, they had re-created the ruins’ extensive defense systems, all of which were being put into thorough use here. Weapons that didn’t even need to be turned on at 10 percent to wipe out the imperial soldiers were now being used to test out Lucius and Raymond.

It was an offensive like none before, and the two of them had to expose all their deepest inner skills to survive. Raymond kept point, buying enough time for Lucius to unleash his killer blows. Lucius’s Fusionist skill did what it sounded like—it could mix materials and extract energy from them, and when used right, it could unleash attacks akin to nuclear magic. Gadora had discovered that skill and taught him how to harness it; that old debt of gratitude was still on Lucius’s mind as he fought.

The battle itself, luckily, ended in an overwhelming victory for them both. Despite all the destructive force they were faced with, neither the golems nor all the advanced techie weapons could finish them off. The sheer numbers, though, were absolutely off the charts. Breaking through all these traps was a huge challenge for just two people, and Lucius couldn’t be blamed for being so exhausted after a single day of work.

“Hey… So what now? Wanna go on?”

“You kidding me? We’ve only made it down one flight of stairs. We need a plan for this, or else it’ll be way too dangerous to take on that onslaught again.”

“Yeah. But we ain’t got no other choice, do we? The moment we walked in, we got separated from the group, so…”

Raymond was right, and Lucius knew it. But there was nothing they could do. Proceeding on would be dangerous, yes…but was there any better option available? Going up instead of down sure didn’t guarantee they’d ever escape the labyrinth—besides, if that question when they came in was to be believed, it was impossible to leave anyway until they beat this thing.

“It’s totally impossible to beat this labyrinth…”

“Yeah. Maybe if we had more time…but like, even if we did one floor a day, it’d still take at least a month. And if we take that long, we’re definitely gonna run out of food.”

That was the main problem. Lucius and Raymond hadn’t undergone imperial augmentation surgery, so they needed to eat regularly. Water they could manage themselves, but they had just two days of food on them—and if they kept running into floors with no monsters like before, they couldn’t rely on monster meat to supplant their diet, either. At this rate, lasting even three weeks was out of the question.

It was just one day after they went in, and already things were starting to look hopelessly bleak. But they weren’t giving up. They had come here because they wanted to find out about their mentor and friends. If they were going to give up and run at this point, they never would’ve volunteered for this in the first place.

“Hey, you think they can trust these things they gave us before we went in?”

Lucius pointed at his neck as he asked Raymond. This item was something Caligulio had given them before this operation, a prototype made at their R & D labs—a replica of the revival item Gadora had brought back. The commander told him that if he died in the labyrinth, this thing would resurrect him, although Lucius didn’t believe it.

“How can I trust him on that? And even if it does work, where’s it going to revive me?”

“Yeah, ’cause if you wake up on the spot, it’s gonna be right next to the monster that just killed you. They didn’t test that part out yet, did they?”

“Nah. They want us to instead. But why a necklace, though? Didn’t he bring back a bracelet?”

“Guess it shows how far the Empire’s lagging on that tech.”

This was, in essence, a knockoff made on a rushed timetable, so it wound up a little larger than the original was the explanation given to him. It only added to the sheer distrust. Who’d ever want to put their lives in the hands of a shoddy imitation?

“This, you see, I can only give to the truly special ones. And I firmly believe that you two are worthy enough to be entrusted with this!”

Sure, Caligulio had framed it as something special, but turn it around, and he was basically admitting they had no idea if it worked. They didn’t make any for the rank-and-file soldiers, so it was up to them to see what would happen. Maybe they could trust it more if they had some experimental data or something, but involuntarily testing subjects like this was ridiculous.

“Well, at least I’ll find out what happens when you die first.”

“Oh, man, don’t even joke about that,” replied Raymond, ever the realist. “No way I’m gonna rely on this anyway. Besides, don’t the Resurrection Bracelets this is based on run on the power of the demon lord Ramiris? If we try using a fake based on something we basically shoplifted from her, isn’t that gonna piss her off?”

Lucius shrugged his agreement, his thoughts largely the same. To them, the conclusion was obvious. They had to act as if resurrection wasn’t at all possible. All they could rely on were their own strengths.

So they stood up, sarcastic smirks on their faces.

“You ready?”

“Yeah. If we’re here ’n’ all, might as well go all the way. If it doesn’t work out, at least we’ll be forgiven for it.”

“You think? Like, maybe Shinji would just laugh it off, but her, you know…”

“Don’t even start. I just managed to forget about her, too.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m more scared of her than I am of this labyrinth.”

“Whoa, don’t spill your guts just because she ain’t here, man. You’re right and all, but…”

“Right? I can’t believe how insensitive Shinji can be. All that enthusiasm pointed his way, and it goes right over his head.”

“Totally. But that’s Shinji for you. And her, too, like…”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy. Maybe he’s survived all this, even.”

“Yeah. He had to.”

They both smiled. Even in these dire straits, they still held hope in their hearts, and they knew the path they had to take. So still smiling brightly, they started down the stairs, not even knowing what awaited them.

And then:

“H-hello there, Lucius…and Raymond, too! Listen, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you!”

“Yeah, something really good, y’know? So hear him out.”

“…Yes. Give him a chance.”

Encountering Shinji, Marc, and Zhen—the targets of their rescue op—immediately past the stairs made Lucius and Raymond freeze on the spot.

“Ah, it seems they might be a tad shocked. Well, allow me to ask you as well. Will you listen to what I have to say?”

A familiar voice boomed out from the gigantic golem looming before them. It was undoubtedly Gadora, the one Lucius and Raymond owed their lives to.

“Are…? Are you alive?”

“And…like, can you explain this, man?”

And so the battle of persuasion between the two sides began. It would take just a little more time before the two thoroughly confused would-be heroes saw things Gadora’s way.

All told, the job went surprisingly easily…and surprisingly successfully, too. Even Shinji’s gang, who announced previously that they wouldn’t join the war, volunteered for this particular mission—and thanks to them, the two sides reached an agreement with hardly any trouble.

Lucius and Raymond were apprentices of Gadora and friends to Shinji’s gang, but after that workout up on Floor 59, Lucius was the clear standout. His skill was just off the charts. All it took was a little tap on something in his hand, and it’d trigger a small explosion in front of him—one with nuclear-level force but limited to just a tiny range. The smallest motions seemed to let him produce the most amazing results.

The unique skill Fusionist let him transform matter itself, fusing it with other matter in the process. This let him, for example, throw a pebble or something at an enemy that caused the foe to blow up on impact. Even if a barrier of some sort warded off the pebble, it’d still explode the moment it hit the ground. It’d be neat if he could ricochet shots for situations like that, but since the “pebbles” Lucius preferred were small enough to flick with a single finger, that was a lot to ask of him. Besides, having a pebble ignite on this target and not that one was also tough to manage.

Still, this was one evil skill. Get the timing wrong, and he could easily end up burned. But Lucius had thoroughly researched. Exactly what kind of research, nobody besides him knew, but he certainly seemed to have perfected his craft.

Raymond, as his partner, demonstrated superb combat skills. His shield, meant to symbolize his own fighting spirit, was just as impressive; the way he used it to block all frontal attacks was a sight to behold. It even deflected the shock waves from Lucius’s explosions without complaint. As a team, they meshed really well.

So these were the real things, no disguises or whatever. They weren’t under any sort of mind control, and it seemed they really were here to find out what happened to Gadora and Shinji’s gang. They both seemed pretty trustworthy, and honestly, I was glad they were on our side. Now that they were on board, I’d have them work under Shinji’s group for a while as a kind of training period. I didn’t think we needed to worry about them betraying us, but it was just a precautionary measure. Once I saw how they did, I could upgrade them to the same status as Shinji and the others.

So all was well on Floor 60. But what about Floor 70?

Around a hundred people were huddled together in that hilly wasteland—confused at first, but a day later, they were calmer. They had pitched their tents on a hilltop with a good view, and a few of them had been sent to scout the area. There was no sign of any immediate offensive; clearly they were being very cautious. Their composure was quite impressive, especially considering we tossed their commander on an entirely different floor. These truly were heroes head and shoulders above the rest, I supposed.

“I thought they’d be more upset about this, really…”

“Oh, this is about what I’d expect. They’ve established a clear chain of command, so they can maintain order even if they lose their commander.”

Benimaru, unlike me, was pretty indifferent about it. A disjointed chain of command makes it impossible to carry out any sort of mission. Any force needs someone in charge, after all, and I can sympathize with anybody who wants that role clearly defined. But wasn’t this just a hodgepodge of heroes who’d never worked together before? If they could get themselves organized this quickly, then hats off to them, I guess.

“Are we, uh, good in that respect?”

“Of course. Gobwa is always around if I’m not, and she has many fine people under her as well. Tactical theory is a required subject for all members of Team Kurenai, so any one of us could feasibly serve as commander.”

Whoa. Nice confidence there. I never learned any of that. When did they?

“Ah. Well, great. So if they aren’t making any moves right now, what’s up with them?”

I decided to leave our chain of command in the capable hands of Benimaru and our other corps leaders. There was no point in me worrying about it, so I brought the conversation back to our current reality—the army camped out on Floor 70.

“For now, they’re likely investigating whether there are any survivors on the other floors. Along those lines, I’m afraid it’s hard luck for them. They might’ve found some on other floors, but there won’t be a trace here.”

Benimaru sounded almost like he pitied them. That made sense to me, too. I knew there were no survivors among the imperial army in the labyrinth, but they had to be down here in part to find their friends. I could understand if they wanted to track down survivors to help beef up their ranks. We all knew that was pointless, though—and in the meantime, it wasn’t much fun to just sit and wait for them to do something.

“Should we have Adalmann attack them?”

Shion nodded at my casual suggestion. She must’ve been getting pretty bored, not to mention eager to kick some ass—but as long as we had ample forces in the labyrinth, she still had to bodyguard me here. She understood that, of course, but she still wanted to get this over with and join in the battle outside, I’m sure.

“Hmm… Well, I doubt we’ll get anything more on them by watching them like this, no…”

Benimaru chuckled at Shion’s reaction as he said that. Then I sent an order to Adalmann, who promptly responded.

“Behold my grand actions, my master!!”

Huh. Sounded like Shion wasn’t the only one itching for a fight. Adalmann had his forces at the ready for the Empire, too. They had certainly enjoyed a long streak of victories, and it sounded like they wanted to keep the momentum going and round things out with one final victory.

“Okay, best of luck!”

“Yes, Master!!”

That bit of encouragement was the one signal he needed. Like a raging current, Adalmann’s army opened the gate and set off.

One hour later, we were greeted with a fairly astonishing sight. There were only three survivors left in the imperial force—but only three survivors on our side, too. Adalmann, Alberto, the death dragon, and that was it. So now it was three on three.

The other hundred or so had already fought the undead forces, killing them but losing their lives in the process, so there were no reinforcements for Adalmann’s side. His regular army of undead would revive themselves in three hours, though, so I figured victory was in the bag by then.

But:

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… What an interesting person.”

“Yes, very impressive fighting. I’d love to take a crack at him.”

That was some rare praise from Diablo and Shion. The enemy had some real winners among them after all—three, even. One was a dashing swordfighter, currently locked in combat with Alberto. One was a beautiful wizard, matching Adalmann blow for blow in a magic battle. Finally, one was a burly warrior, holding the death dragon back all by herself.

They had some familiar-looking glowing armor that they summoned out of nowhere, so I assumed they were in with the Legend-class dude that Testarossa killed earlier. They were all of the same design, so they must’ve belonged to the same organization.

“That swordfighter is fiendishly strong. An even match for Alberto, I’d say,” Benimaru remarked.

Alberto and the dashing man were exchanging god-tier blows at a level one almost never saw. Both fought with sword and shield, and both were definitely making a good fight out of this. Like Benimaru said, an “even match.” In fact, the guy seemed even stronger than the one Testarossa beat; maybe he was higher up in that ranking of theirs.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… I think Adalmann’s faith in you is slipping. Failing to keep up with someone like that in magic…”

“No need to be so harsh, Diablo. That armor protects him from magic of all elements, whether holy or evil. It’s no wonder Adalmann’s at a disadvantage.”

Shion’s commentary was correct. Adalmann had the skill Holy-Evil Inversion, but that Legend-class armor was just totally cheating. In terms of resisting magic, it offered almost complete protection, and you’d need something as powerful as Disintegration to take it out—a spell in Adalmann’s wheelhouse, but his opponent wasn’t letting him break it out. He was trying to use some smaller magic to leave his opponent open and strike him there, but I think both sides were thinking the same thing there, and so it looked like they’d be struggling for a while to come.

But I definitely couldn’t forget about the last guy, either. A real piece of work, him. I mean, he was taking on a death dragon all by himself.

In his case, it seemed like he had abandoned any hope of actually winning. The death dragon’s regenerative abilities were so impossible to counter, he knew he didn’t stand a chance of offing it entirely. So he continued humbly fighting on, trusting that his companions would see themselves to victory. Really, if it wasn’t for that behind-the-scenes effort, this would’ve been over long ago. The death dragon was too much for even Soei to defeat, so if this dude was decently keeping his own against it, he was more trouble than I thought.

“So how do you think it’ll turn out?” I asked. Everyone replied in different ways.

“Alberto is the superior fighter, but given his gear disadvantage, he’s going to lose this battle.”

“Adalmann is trying to grab victory too quickly. If he could approach this with a cooler head, he would have won by now, but as is, he lacks much of a decisive factor. If Alberto is defeated in the meantime, he’s going to be overwhelmed fast, I think.”

“There is no such thing as defeat! Only victory shall be ours!!”

That all made logical sense, except for Shion. Benimaru and Diablo had similar opinions; they both saw Adalmann and Alberto losing. As for Shion… Well, I guess she was attempting psychological warfare or something? That sounded more like a wish than an opinion to me.

“Okay, so we’ll lose this round? Is that trouble?”

“Well, even if they do lose, we still have the other Dungeon Marvels on hand. Besides, I can beat them, so we should be just fine,” said Benimaru.

“Of course!” Shion added. “And I can beat them, too, so please don’t worry, Sir Rimuru!”

Benimaru sounded really confident, so I figured we’d find a way out of this. Shion, meanwhile, was Shion. I’d have liked to ask her for some evidence to back that up, but I doubted she’d have an answer. It was certainly in character for her, so I was glad for all that spirit anyway.

“There is no need for concern, Sir Rimuru. Among the Marvels, we still have Zegion, Sir Veldora’s disciple. As long as he remains in the game, I believe you have nothing to be bothered about.”

Diablo added a “keh-heh-heh-heh-heh” at the end for effect. It was rare for him to offer praise to other people. It reassured me a bit. Maybe everything was going to be okay.

As we spoke, the match seemed to be approaching its climax. I was hoping maybe they’d find a way to win if they were given more time, but unfortunately, the enemies must’ve had that same thought.

“I was hoping we could push right through you, but apparently now when you die, you can boast in hell about how much you riled me up!” the dashing man shouted at Alberto.

Did he have some kinda secret move he was keeping under wraps until now?

“Before you die, allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Krishna, a knight of the Empire—the seventeenth-ranked Imperial Guardian!”

“I am Reiha, ranked ninety-fourth.”

“I am Bazan, ranked thirty-fifth.”

Ahhh, so they are Imperial Guardians. Gadora told me about them, but they really did have a great lineup, I guess. The man Testarossa beat was ranked eleventh, but I really thought Krishna was a better fighter than him—maybe your number wasn’t directly correlated with your actual ability. Given how Reiha acted a lot more upper-crust than Bazan, I think my hunch was correct.

But back to the battle. After that pause to give out their names, Adalmann’s side seemed to have rallied a bit. I thought it’d help them get back on track, but sadly, no dice. Krishna versus Alberto was the decider here, especially once Krishna broke Alberto’s Cursed Sword. Broke—or shattered? Maybe more the latter. It was a huge difference in weapon performance.

That Cursed Sword was a fine piece of work from Kurobe, you know. It was the best weapon Alberto could wield, although no average person ever could. But he was pitting it against a Legend-class blade.

Krishna’s fighting style, it seemed, involved waging extended combat to gradually damage his opponent’s weapon until he had a chance to smash it fully apart. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all, but at least we learned a bit about his strategy for the future.

With the loss of his weapon, Alberto was defeated—and with his stout partner gone, Adalmann was now at a disadvantage. He proved surprisingly able to hold his ground, pulling off some brilliant defensive maneuvers you wouldn’t expect from a rearguard fighter, but soon he was overpowered and brought to his knees. Now it was three on one against the death dragon, and before long, he was gone, too.

If Alberto’s sword didn’t break like that, I’m sure it would have turned out differently. It’s absurd to expect a magician to compete against a warrior in physical combat, so I’m gonna pin the blame for this on him. In fact, I should praise all of them for drawing out all their enemy’s inner workings for us.

In the end, though, things worked out as Benimaru and Diablo predicted. The enemy now had two more keys, but no helping that now. The opponent put up a good fight, and they deserved to be applauded. So Krishna’s three-person party dealt us the first truly bitter defeat of this campaign.

Well, we can do a postmortem on that encounter later. Let’s move on.

The big screen was now displaying a dual simulcast of the battles on Floors 79 and 90, and in both cases, they seemed to be reaching their climax.

Kumara, I have to say, was really taking this to extremes. I suppose she was out for revenge against that bearded guy, though, so it only made sense.

Apito, on the other hand, was duking it out in another surprisingly close match. I’d put her strength as about the same level as Hinata’s, but without the magic—and if this guy who looked like the commander was fighting on an even keel with her, he had to be good. Real lady-killer, too, I bet—but absolutely on par with Krishna before.

So how would it turn out? We all had our eyes glued on the big screen, watching with bated breath.

Major General Minitz, dressed in his most prized of tailored suits, strolled through the labyrinth.

The design of his outfit was the same as any regular officer’s, but the fabric was different. Every thread of it had been carefully selected, with magic force woven right into the cloth. A single suit would cost as much as a colonel’s annual salary, but it offered luxury on a level even Minitz would be satisfied with. Elegance, in a word, was what Minitz was all about—and that was what made him so dissatisfied with his current situation.

War was supposed to be fought with overwhelming force, intimidating the enemy and aiming for victory without a fight. Sacrificing lives was out of the question—and if your own troops were making that sacrifice, that called your commander’s competence into question. It was precisely because of this that Minitz had declared this operation a failure before it even began.

However:

“Well, I suppose it’s the curse of the servant class, not being properly able to state the obvious out loud…”

Even with that complaint, Minitz smiled boldly. He usually didn’t receive much attention, as Kanzis serving under him had a tendency to hog the spotlight, but Minitz himself was one of the imperial army’s greatest heroes. Just because it went against his fashion sense didn’t mean he was soft enough to abandon a war.

“…This Rimuru character, though… He does enjoy making life difficult, doesn’t he? And I suppose anyone would if they had the chance… But sending me, the commander, alone to some random place? Now our small gathering of brave men and women might be scattered and picked off, one by one. I’m sure Kanzis will find a way to survive, but…”

Minitz was talking to himself, not caring who heard him, and in spite of all the vitriol, he looked pretty content. It was the first time in a while that he felt his heart soar like this. Not once in his life had he ever felt exposed to so much danger. Typically, his rank ensured he was rarely, if ever, allowed on the front lines. He was an upper-class nobility, not some upstart, and once he retired from the military, he’d have an even loftier career track than Caligulio waiting for him. He already had enough connections in politics that he had built up his own faction among the government’s lawmakers.

The reason someone like Minitz was still in the military was simply because he had a deeply instilled passion for fighting. He loved to see blood, and now that he had this opportunity, he could go wild to his heart’s content. It was easy enough to take the tension off his face.

He had been transported to Floor 78, one above the floor controlled by Apito. This was meant to help with analyzing Minitz’s abilities. So he pressed along through the empty field, swatting away the insect swarms as he searched for the stairs leading down.

“I just hate bugs… Just the sight of their legs flitting around all over the place disgusts me. I’ve got to get out of here, posthaste.”

With that arrogant remark, Minitz swung his hand over to his side. That alone summoned a mighty gust of wind, breaking down hundreds of insects into dust.

That was Oppressor, his unique skill, and it was a pretty straightforward one. From psychological oppression to physically crushing matter, it affected everything in his line of vision. There was no way to escape it—anything caught in its grasp was turned into scrap, organic or not. He didn’t even need to do that theatrical arm wave, either; just a glance could destroy most anything. The power had made Minitz undefeated in battle up to now.

“These guys are pretty fragile, aren’t they? I’m hardly seeing any resistance at all here. So boring. Wish they’d try a little harder for me.”

Literally nobody could stop Minitz. He ran into a swarm of over-A insects on Floor 78, but he killed every single one of them. They were no match at all for him; it was over in an instant. Truly, he was invincible, and if you had that kind of power, you’d probably be just as arrogant as him.

In a few hours, Minitz found the descending stairwell. Figuring they led to deeper floors, he decided to take a leisurely break atop them.

The leather bag slung around his waist was a fancy (and expensive) magical tool. From it he produced a hot, freshly prepared meal to enjoy. The bag also contained a magic-warding bedding set, tent included, allowing Minitz to sleep as soundly as a baby. To him, this labyrinth wasn’t even a fun diversion.

The next day, he casually strode into Floor 79—and there, he’d finally meet a worthy enemy.

The attacking army wasps, “silent killers” as they may have been, were mown down in an instant by Minitz. No matter how tricky the monster he faced, as long as he could lay eyes upon it, the jig was up.

“Heh… The monsters here are no match for me, either. What a disappointment!”

Minitz’s bold words were enraging someone else on the floor. It was Apito.

Given his knack for catching enemies no matter how they snuck up on him, Minitz clearly had a keen Magic Sense ability. In which case, there was no point setting any more army wasps on him—and so the queen herself came on to the scene.

“You’re acting well beyond your abilities, human.”

“Oh, am I? Can you put up a bit of a fight, then? Because you don’t seem too different from the rest of the bugs here…”

He stepped upon the mounds of wasps on the ground as he spoke. It made Apito’s rage amp up several degrees further.

“You’re dead.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

And so the fight was on.

Minitz began with a casual approach, giving Apito no credit at all. He wasn’t being careless; it’s just that he thought Oppressor could easily smash this foe to pieces. It didn’t take long to realize how naive this idea was.

Waves of interference poured over Apito as she entered his eyesight, placing intense pressure on her. This was actually an invisible gravitational force, one Minitz could arbitrarily apply to surrounding matter to give the pull force direction. Using this force—on par with the kind a massive star exerts—he could apply pressure from any direction he pleased, manipulating the pushing and pulling forces to make any object explode or implode. The only way to oppose it was to have a body strong enough not to be affected or to release some kind of directional force that could cancel out the forces acting upon you. Minitz had never run into anyone who could do that—and therefore, he was invincible.

It was with that absolute confidence that Minitz unleashed his skill. But the scene he was rewarded with wasn’t exactly what he expected.

“…Hmph! Too late?”

Minitz had successfully shattered only the afterimage of Apito. It wasn’t that the queen had stumbled upon the true nature of his power; she did, however, notice the directional nature of it. If she moved quickly enough, she surmised, she could escape its area of effect—and it worked.

“Heh-heh-heh! Just as I thought, then. Now, can you keep up with my movement?”

Apito kept going faster and faster, making it hard for Minitz to effectively attack her despite his keen Magic Sense. But if anything, this inspired Minitz.

“How interesting. This would be so boring otherwise!”

Unleashing his abilities to the fullest, Minitz established a force field around himself, walking forward in order to block Apito’s way. The queen was forced to fall back. The passageways in this labyrinth were a good five yards wide, but attempting to slip past Minitz would get her caught in his force field.

“Ngh. Nasty.”

“That’s what I was going to say!”

Neither side gave an inch.

After extensive training from Hinata, Apito’s moves were sharp and refined. She could even make the paladin captain sweat trying to keep up with her moves—but it didn’t mean much if she couldn’t come close enough to Minitz to attack. If she ever stopped, she was instantly in danger—one exposure to his pressurizing waves, and she was bound to pay for it.

Maybe making myself known wasn’t such a good idea after all. If we could retreat back to my royal chamber, I’d be able to fly around much more freely. I don’t know how long this man’s stamina will hold out, but if I’m going to find a way to win this, I have to drag him back there.

Apito’s mind was thus made up. There was no shame in retreat here; Apito’s basic policy was always to greedily aim for the win. And Minitz didn’t mock her at all when she ran away. Realizing it was a strategic retreat, he cautiously gave chase. No need to hurry. Better to conserve his strength, rather than overreact here.

Heh-heh-heh… Battle must always be done with a certain elegance… But if someone’s going to lose, better to struggle in vain than give up the fight.

Minitz sensed something beautiful in Apito. Unlike the other monsters, this was someone who fought with true grace. It’s only natural for a fighter to choose a battlefield advantageous to them. He’d never chide her for that—in fact, he was grateful she was doing everything she could in this fight. So he came after her, never underestimating her, always thinking about how he could hunt her down.

They eventually arrived at a large, wide-open space, a chair placed atop a dais on one end.

The queen’s throne, I presume? Well, fine, then. A fitting place for you and me to settle our score.

He was ready and willing to take the enemy’s offer— But please, he arrogantly thought, just make this entertaining for me.

“Right. Is the game of tag over now?”

“Yes. By my name as Apito, the Insect Queen, I will do my very best to entertain you here.”

“Sounds enjoyable. I am Major General Minitz, and I am here to kill you. Ready for round two?”

With that bit of bravado, Minitz accelerated. He was taking a wait-and-see approach with his moves before, but now he was serious. He couldn’t surpass Apito’s speed, but he still wasn’t falling behind her at all. But it didn’t faze Apito. Rising high into the air, she laid on even more speed, making Minitz look like a fool.

That, too, was within Minitz’s expectations.

“No you don’t! You should never underestimate my power!”

The shout came after he released it. From the very top of the dome-shaped space they were in, an invisible force field descended, trapping Apito. Controlling the gravity within, he kept her flat against the ceiling.

“Gnh…?!”

Minitz snorted at the distressed Apito. “Heh-heh… Oh, does it hurt? Well, I’d like to crush you to death right now, but you’re a little too strong for that. Any ordinary monster would’ve been easily flattened at this distance, but…”

He came closer to Apito. His power varied depending on the distance away from him, but as he approached, the pressure kept getting higher and higher—easily enough to crush someone as tough as her. Now that Apito was in his sights, he no longer had to unfold his power in every direction. Focusing it all on her, he was practically guaranteed a quick victory.

That was a trickier fight than I anticipated, but I guess she was nothing special after all. Although, she did entertain me. I suppose I could repay her with a painless death.

Minitz wasn’t a fan of tormenting his foes. All he wanted was the rush of the fight and the thrill of the ensuing victory. That was why he wanted to show some mercy to Apito, out of a sense of pure goodwill. But:

“Don’t count me out yet, human! I told you I’d give you my very best!”

With that shout, Apito—surely suffering under the pressure—flew back into the air. Her wings were torn, her arms and legs bent in odd directions, and from antennae to stinger, she looked like a wreck—but her will to fight hadn’t faded in the slightest. She, too, wanted victory more desperately than anything else.

“Sir Rimuru is watching this battle, too. No matter how pathetic I look doing it, I must expose my enemy’s skills, at least!”

“Heh-heh-heh… How funny. You think you can expose my power? You’ll be dead long before that!”

Once again, Minitz generated a force field covering himself. With his powers of repulsion and attraction, he could drive away anyone who tried to approach him, keeping them planted to the ground. This was his approach to finishing off Apito, but Apito wasn’t going to stay down forever. Soaring up faster than Minitz could perceive her, she kept her distance, trying to avoid being caught in his waves. Having no way to attack him was terribly frustrating, but his opponent didn’t have infinite stamina. The limit would have to come sometime, and Apito was just waiting for that moment.

Would Minitz get exhausted first, or would Apito run out of steam first? Thus the battle of endurance began.

Things only started changing several hours into the contest.

Following Hinata’s teachings, Apito tried every possible means of attack. Her broken limbs now gone, she continued to desperately fly around on her torn wings, searching for some kind of opening from Minitz. She shot poison stingers at his blind spot; she vibrated her wings to unleash razor-sharp shock waves; she summoned her army wasps to attack him from all directions—all so she could find something to weaken Minitz’s power of interference.

What that did was completely wipe out her army wasps. They might have been lower in caste than her, but Apito still summoned them herself. It was impossible not to be disappointed… But even so, she kept on making them continue the suicide attack.

Thanks to all that, Minitz was hardly unscathed. The expensive suit he had been wearing was in pitiful shape. All his elegance was stripped off, revealing the increasingly desperate evasive maneuvers he was taking.

“Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee… You seem tired.”

“…You too. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve held out this long.”

“Didn’t I tell you? No matter how pathetic I look doing it, winning is all that matters.”

“And I agree…except I’m the winner here!”

Both were showing amazingly contrived stoicism. They were both so utterly exhausted that they could barely keep standing—but despite that, they still boasted their strength to each other.

“You’ve got a lot of strength. I’ll admit that. But you’re not completely flawless. Let me promise you this—with my next attack, you’re going to die!”

Apito, floating in midair, made that declaration to Minitz. Her face was stained with her own blood, but she made the statement with a beautiful, radiant smile.

Squinting at her, Minitz’s lips curled upward. “I look forward to that. In that case, let me promise you that my next blow will make all your pain go away.”

Neither had much strength left. If they both wanted to end it with the next shot, that indicated just how little stamina remained within either of them. So they went back to full speed, not thinking at all about the consequences.

Apito’s plan was to anticipate which way Minitz’s pressure waves would go and change her trajectory just before they hit her, landing a bruising tackle right before he could react. Minitz, meanwhile, anticipated this. The question in his mind was: How much did Apito know about his remaining power? Could she really see when his invisible pressure waves would be launched? If she could, he’d have to change his response.

In the end, Minitz decided to believe in himself. There was no way she could see through all that. And at that moment, the battle was decided.

The instant Minitz released his power, Apito changed direction—not based on his waves, but on her own intuition, just as Minitz predicted.

I win, Minitz thought, smiling.

I’m dead, Apito thought, doing the same.

Her attack had been predicated upon her death from the very start.

“It’s over, Queen Apito!” Minitz gleefully shouted. And the moment she felt the invisible surge of power enveloping her entire body, Apito opened her mouth wide and attempted to launch her final move. This was Queen of the Needles, a barrage of all-powerful poison needles she would only release upon the risk of death. They were created not from mystical, magical force, but from a part of her own body, making them tough enough to easily pierce magisteel. Enough of these, fired at point-blank range, ought to penetrate Minitz’s force field—was the conclusion she made.

Minitz’s own force compressed her body in the meantime, even as the needles stabbed through his defensive force field. The decisive moment was here.

The end result was a double knockout. Although unhappy about failing to score a complete victory, she was still more than satisfied that she had done her part. Death, after all, was not the end—the labyrinth would resurrect you as many times as you wanted. So Apito disappeared from her throne room, awaiting her imminent rebirth.