1024. If that is the only one, if that is the way
No matter what Krang babbled about, this was an illusion.
Of course, if an ordinary person had seen it, they would have long since knelt down, sobbed, and gone mad, but Enkrid casually ignored it.
“Uh, yeah, he’ll look after my back. The real Krang will do what needs to be done, even if it means dying.”
Faith, trust.
Enkrid knows how to trust others as much as he trusts himself. At that trust, Krang vanished like mist. He walked again.
It’s not too late, even now.
The boatman whispered in my ear several times, tempting me. After fighting against those turning into fog, I suddenly reached a wide cavern. The surrounding scenery changed abruptly. It was a relief just to see that it wasn’t pitch-black darkness.
Kreu.
What on earth is this?
They were draped in dark red leather like cloaks and stood about one to one and a half heads taller than Encred. Their horns created an optical illusion that made them appear taller; some held greatswords made of flame, while others carried only whips.
Still others gripped two longswords, one in each hand. A few were seen wielding spears or hammers.
Encred’s leather armor pulsated. It was a reaction born of finding his own kind.
They lacked wings, but it was clear what they were. They were Balrogs, demons of conflict. Wasn’t it said that Balrogs were originally beings from another dimension?
There were at least dozens of them. Reflexively, Encred grouped the creatures settled in the cavern into sets of five to count them. It was a habit ingrained in him from his long service in the military.
Baek’s family.
There were exactly one hundred. It was a trap projected from one of the alternate dimensions connected to the labyrinth.
One hundred monsters desiring only to fight greeted him.
“Krr.”
The one closest to me snorted. Flames mixed with the breath. The smell of sulfur stung my nose.
Whoosh.
The trajectory of the whip flying toward him was drawn in his field of perception. Insight looking just a step ahead was exercised.
Encred took a step to the side. It was a split-second decision.
Bang!
The whip struck only the air and retreated instead of lashing the ground, yet the
sheer force of that action was visibly distorted. If anyone had witnessed the two fighting right now, they likely wouldn’t have even been able to see the speed properly. The speed at which the whip was swung was astonishing, but Encred’s reaction in dodging it was equally surprising.
I gaze forward, clutching the One. As one reacted, the others closed in from the left and right.
The number of crystals embedded in their chests varied; some had one, others two. Three were rarely seen.
Only six had attacked, while about fifty of the remaining hundred surrounded me.
It felt as if someone were crushing my entire body. My heart ached along with it. The glaring eyes multiplied. In proportion to that, the pressure pressing down on my body also increased.
‘ah.’
It was a moment that naturally elicited gasps of admiration.
“You crazy bastard.”
I heard the boatman’s hallucination.
It was the moment I was holding back the Will of Rejection from activating. If asked why,
I would answer that it was because this moment was more enjoyable than wandering in the darkness and encountering illusions.
In an instant, I unleashed the Will of Rejection. With it, I shook off the malice and murderous intent spewing from dozens of Balrogs.
Simultaneously, I leaped to the left. My feet crossed to gain speed, and then I struck the Will.
It was the first slash I had unleashed with all my might since entering this place. In this single strike, the techniques for cutting steel and slaying lions were all mixed together, and it even caused the Will to explode. As
the high-density Will burst, it placed a heavy load on my entire body. My arm muscles, in particular, felt as though they were about to burst from swelling.
The sword Encred had just wielded was exactly that kind of strike.
A Balrog holding a whip raised its arms to block, and the creature was severed through its arms, head, and even its ribcage. The crystal caught on the blade and split apart.
That is how I killed one. It is the result of tactical calculations that a man with a whip would be weaker in close combat than a man with a sword.
One guy.
Then, another Balrog thrust its greatsword. The thick, massive sword became a ballista arrow aimed at his back.
If he dodged, he would die. His intuition told him. Encred turned around and blocked the greatsword thrust that flew like a giant arrow with its blade.
Boom.
In a world of silence, where movement is faster than sound, a muffled noise belatedly rang in the ears.
The flaming tip of the greatsword heated the blade of Today. For the first time since entering here, Today emitted a vibration.
As if having conserved its strength until now, it cast a deep blue light from the blade and pushed back the flames rising from the Balrog’s greatsword.
‘plastic surgery.’
It happened the moment he thought of it. A blue light flickered on the blade. He leaned forward and swung his sword horizontally.
Balrog, holding the greatsword, let go of his own blade, clasped his hands together, and brought it down.
Crack, bang!
The engraved weapon today split yet another Balrog in two. Even as it lay dying, it struck my back with both hands.
It was a shock that rumbled through my insides, but I could endure it. I was wearing the cloak on my back, the leather armor on my body, and the inner armor crafted by the fairies of the city of Kirhais. All of it cushioned the impact.
“after!”
I exhale the breath I had gathered. As I concentrated, I could feel the flow of air around me.
One from the top, two from the side.
A total of three Balrogs attacked. A greatsword dropped from behind, two longswords crossed and thrust from the left, and a long pike flew in from the right, bending and swaying like a snake.
Encred parried every attack by spinning like a whirlwind on his left foot. He was far faster than the three Balrogs, each with only a single black crystal.
Thanks to this, the current exchange took place. He deflected everything. The one with the two longswords took Encred’s force and leaped backward, while the one swinging the greatsword pulled back the deflected blade and swung it down.
Finally, when the pike’s spear was blocked, the one with the pike alternately crossed his hands to shorten the spear, closing the space, and tripped him.
He wielded the sharp horns protruding from the top of his foot as weapons. Encreed momentarily ignored the greatsword, stepped on the horned instep with his boot to gently push it away, and retreated deeper into Balrog’s embrace than the creature had approached.
Behind where he had slipped out, Balrog’s chest burst open with a crashing sound.
Encreed tossed his cracked and broken horn dagger to the ground. It was now off-balance and shattered, rendering it useless.
Just moments ago, he had engaged in close combat to execute a form of Saxon dagger fighting, and it had been effective.
In battle, one utilizes everything one possesses and knows. It was a method Encreed had mastered long before learning from Luagarne.
As he slipped out of the creature’s embrace and let his left arm hang limply, the man wielding two longswords, who had been waiting for an opportunity, approached.
As if he had been waiting for this moment, Encreed turned to the left, gripped his swords with both hands, and thrust.
It was not a move one should have performed with an injured arm. It was Encreed’s authentic swordsmanship: feigning injury.
“Phew, are you all going to take me on?”
Encred asked in a muttered tone. Another Balrog took the place behind the slain, emitting a smell of sulfur.
I guess I don’t need to hear the answer.
Encred fought fiercely. He killed twenty-two Balrogs and had his head severed by a greatsword.
The ones with two crystals were difficult to catch due to their speed, and as for the ones with three, it was not easy to hold out against them fighting mixed together like this, unless it was a one-on-one fight.
Still, it falls short in every way compared to the Balrog I fought on the continent.
Just because they were Balrogs didn’t mean their skills were all the same. A burning pain shot through my throat. Becoming a knight, feeling omnipotent, slicing through walking fire, crossing Balrogs, getting stabbed by a blonde guy, and even reaching Indules.
I poured
my heart and soul into every step of that journey and died. Pain surged through my entire body. Dozens of remaining Balrogs let out roars.
Whoooooo!
That was the last scene Encred saw.
ripples
It has been a very long time since I have seen the black river and been on a ferry.
After wandering through a labyrinth where pitch-black darkness was everything, fighting illusions, and dying upon encountering a horde of Balrogs, I was actually glad to be here.
“You’re going to stop right here in the end? Is this really the day you wanted?”
A knife scar across the bridge of the nose and eyes with a color straddling the boundary between turquoise and sky blue.
It is that boatman who keeps appearing.
“Are the other boatmen slacking off these days?”
“What?”
“Ah, a mistake. I’ve developed a habit of talking to myself lately.”
It was true. It was a habit I had developed while wandering through a labyrinth.
“……Don’t be foolish. Ask them to open the door, even now. Ask them to do so.”
Sagong held back the words he wanted to say and spat out what he thought was necessary right now.
No matter how many times one dies, pain and death never become familiar. Even if one boosts their will and raises their resolve, the dizziness felt in that moment remains the same.
Still, thanks to repeating today time and time again, he has learned something.
“How many times do you think you will have to repeat this?”
“What?”
“How long do you think it will take to kill all one hundred Balrogs?”
Even he doesn’t know exactly how long it will take. But he didn’t think it would be impossible.
“Don’t be arrogant. You’ll regret it.”
The dream ended. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself right after reaching the cavern. Several stalactites hung from the wide cavern, casting deep shadows along its edges as they emitted a reddish glow. The smell of sulfur stung my nose, and real lava flowed in the distance. I
could see an exceptionally large one standing tall at the very back of the group of Balrogs.
Are you the boss?
Encred drew his sword while thinking.
Chirrrrrr.
As soon as today came out, the cloak fluttered in the wind.
Pararak.
Encred charged forward. He was not someone with whom he could converse, nor was there any need to exchange words.
In that case, he would simply swing his sword, fight, and strike.
He had conceived a solution with just a single death. Luagarne-style tactical thinking burst forth in his mind like flickering lights, revealing the answer.
‘distribution.’
Usuke, even if Will springs forth like an inexhaustible well, using it recklessly will lead to a sense of exhaustion.
Then it is over. Therefore, he fights with appropriate strength. Maximum efficiency with minimum power.
That is what he did. He relied on swordsmanship and technique. When
a Balrog charged, he split its head open. A guy with a single black crystal stuck in his chest dies even like this.
For those with two or more, he had to completely sever their necks or shatter the crystals.
It was after spending sixty-seven “Todays”—the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth.
Encred had become accustomed to distributing his Will.
From the start, these Balrogs were no match for him if he fought them one by one. After killing them all, only one remained.
“Fun.”
The remaining Balrog spoke.
“Right, I know you can speak.
We’ve fought thirty times already. Each time, I died from my will being severed, or from the excessive strain on my muscles.
I died again and again. And now, we face each other like that.”
Encred steeled himself with a few breaths and gathered his will.
He had just enough strength left to fight, barely enough to make a few swings. To be precise, he only had enough will left to make a few more sword strikes.
Still, he smiled. Hadn’t he longed for a fight like this until he was sick of it?
Even Balrog, the demon of struggle, smiled.
Their laughter and blades crossed.
He wielded only a single sword, about the same length as Encred’s, and it wasn’t even a burning sword.
It was a sword that held fire within it. If you get stabbed there, everything from the point of impact melts and burns away. I know because I’ve been stabbed before. Just like
when I faced the One-Killer, I must not even graze him. Of course, I could pin him down with my will even if I got stabbed, but I don’t have the strength to do that right now.
After a process of dodging and fighting, Encred finally beheaded Balrog and shattered the three black crystals resting on his chest.
It was Will who had pushed himself to his limit. His fingers trembled.
Today passes. And so, tomorrow approaches. But nothing had changed.
Exhausted, he fainted while standing, and a boatman appeared in his dream.
ripples
On the ferry, a boatman holding a purple lamp said
Didn’t you say you regretted it?
Yes, even defeating a hundred Balrogs changes nothing. I simply ended up pouring out every last bit of the Will I held within me.
Waking from his dream, Encred felt the Will—the inexhaustible well—severing away.
Was this the price for pushing his body too hard?
If Will is cut off.
Six blue flames rose beyond the darkness. They were in a position where Encred had to raise his head to see them. It was after they had left the cavern.
It is a three-headed monster. It is Cerberus, also known as the watchdog of hell.
This is a bit too much.
Not that there was a way back.
Do monsters really appear endlessly in this damn labyrinth? Well then, I guess I have to keep fighting. It
was thanks to the Goddess of Fortune watching over me. Before entering here, Encred had learned how to fight while restoring Restauratio and Will.
He fought three-headed monsters, dying again and again, and found a way to gather up Will. And so, eighty “Todays” passed this time.
Today, dying after fighting like crazy—this is your labyrinth and your hell.
In his dreams, the boatman kept appearing. The same boatman appeared, urging him to give up in a similar tone.
Encred was trapped. He accepted that. So, should he give up? That was not the case.
If the way out was long, if he had to go around endlessly and fight again and again, then let him do it.
If that was the only way, if that was the only path, then let him walk it.
Encred did just that. After the three-headed Cerberus came the Blade Giant, whose body was filled with invisible wind.
Fighting them, he filled his Will once again. Around that time, he glimpsed his life again in his dreams, not the boatman.
It was the life of Sion Vant, the pessimistic boatman.
