The labyrinth city, Lartania.
A city where the end of the labyrinth has yet to be discovered, where the deeper you go underground, the more treasures and artifacts appear.
Many mercenaries and explorers reside there.
At the pinnacle of this city are the five great guilds:
Bloody Iron, Terranomad, Arcadia, Ancient Tracker, Kalymadra.
These five guilds, as they are called, possess far superior power compared to any mercenary or explorer guild.
The difference in strength between them and any run-of-the-mill guild was staggering.
The guild leaders of these five great guilds were, in fact, no longer considered human.
They were strong enough to be called superhumans.
Among them was Aldric, the leader of Bloody Iron, who once slaughtered over a thousand monsters alone on the 10th floor, earning the nickname “Butcher.”
He was currently descending into the labyrinth.
However, today he was not heading down to reach the lowest floor but because of a large commission sent to Bloody Iron.
“Capture one monster on the 20th floor…”
Aldric, with a massive axe slung over his shoulder, wore a peculiar expression.
For good reason—something about the request was strange.
In the Lartania labyrinth, every five floors, there is a monster-free area, which doesn’t quite fit the term ‘labyrinth.’
As you descend further, these floors, called safety zones by mercenaries, start to contain unknown terrain or buildings.
But one thing remained constant—there were no monsters.
Yet, this high-paying request was asking for a monster to be captured from one of these safety floors, the 20th floor.
It was odd, to say the least.
Nevertheless, Aldric led his subordinates down to the 20th floor because the advance payment was substantial, and more importantly, the client had explicitly stated:
“Even if you fail the mission, you won’t have to return the advance payment.”
That was why Aldric was now descending to the 20th floor.
“It might be a trap.”
Though he entertained the thought, he wasn’t particularly afraid.
He had spent plenty of time on the 50th floor, considered the lowest level of the labyrinth, and was confident he could return even if something went wrong on the 20th floor.
Thus, Aldric and his subordinates descended the labyrinth.
“We’ve reached the 20th floor.”
Soon, just as the client had said, they arrived at the 20th floor.
The scene was filled with large ruins.
“…Boss, there really is a monster here.”
To their surprise, they saw a monster as the client had described.
“Isn’t that a goblin?”
And not just any monster—it was a goblin, considered one of the weakest monsters.
“There’s really a monster here on the 20th floor?”
“Wow, if we catch that thing, we’ll get even more money than the advance payment?”
“This is like finding a golden goblin.”
“It’s even wearing clothes—like something from the East?”
Aldric’s subordinates laughed and pointed at the goblin, as they had all slain thousands of goblins during their explorations of the lowest floors.
As everyone chuckled—
The goblin, which had been staring blankly at the ruins, sighed and turned around.
“Insects… you’re noisy.”
The goblin, with a clear voice that didn’t match its appearance and a lazy gaze, murmured.
Then, it moved its finger.
From left to right.
In an instant, the mercenaries who had been laughing at the goblin were sliced cleanly in half.
That was the end of it.
With a soft thud, the five mercenaries who had fought alongside Aldric for years were dead in an instant.
As Aldric, feeling an instinctive threat, raised his axe, he saw it.
The goblin’s eyes, far too intelligent to belong to a mere goblin, were looking straight at him, filled with only two emotions:
Arrogance (傲慢) and—
What Aldric saw last was that, and nothing more.
There was nothing after.
As the horrific screams of the remaining mercenaries echoed, his mind fell into darkness.
Not long after, he—no, the king of all ghouls (餓鬼)—who had dealt with all the mercenaries that descended to the 20th floor, began to move toward the surface.
After discussions at the academy, the friendly matches usually commence.
The format is that the designated wizard for the friendly match comes out and chooses their opponent.
In other words, any wizard gathered to watch the match could be challenged.
However, the wizard with the right to designate an opponent rarely challenges someone too far below their own rank.
Challenging a wizard too low in rank could lead to gossip that they were bullying a weaker wizard.
On the other hand, challenging someone much stronger could result in embarrassment and offend the higher-ranking wizard.
Wizards, by nature, are prideful creatures.
Thus, it was common sense for a wizard with the right to designate an opponent to choose someone of similar rank, and even Alon was aware of this.
‘…Was Baruch around 4th rank?’
Feeling the curious gazes around him, Alon recalled how Liyan had glared at Baruch yesterday.
‘He’s one rank higher than me.’
In the world of wizards, ranks create significant disparities.
The higher the rank, the more that disparity grows, so the difference in power between, say, the 7th and 8th ranks was enormous, even though they were only one rank apart.
‘…Being 4th rank at that age, even if he’s not as skilled as Penia, he’s clearly a genius.’
As Alon contemplated this, watching Baruch, who didn’t look very old despite his impressive rank—
“Surely the great wizard who helped subdue the mighty outer god isn’t afraid, right?”
Baruch suddenly spoke up.
His words, a clear provocation, startled even the wizards who had been observing the situation with interest.
Baruch’s comment obviously implied that Alon’s reputation might be nothing but rumor, and Alon quickly grasped his intent.
‘He’s trying to provoke me.’
Though he couldn’t be sure of Baruch’s exact motives, Alon didn’t care.
To him, that was enough of a reason.
‘If someone is trying to provoke you for no reason, give them a reason.’
Alon wasn’t the type to take insults lightly, especially from someone who didn’t seem all that difficult to defeat.
‘I guess I’ll get to try this out in a real fight sooner than I thought.’
Sliding a magic-enhanced glove onto his index finger, Alon spoke.
Thus, the duel was set.
“Everything’s going as expected.”
Baruch, the son of the Violet Tower Master and a fellow 4th-rank wizard like Liyan, smiled as he felt the gazes of Alon and the surrounding wizards on him.
Provoking Alon into the arena had been part of Baruch’s plan all along.
More precisely, it was his plan to draw a bit more attention to himself.
Although being the son of the Violet Tower Master already gave him considerable influence within the academy, Baruch wanted more.
That’s why he decided to use Count Palatio, who had just arrived at the academy the day before.
Count Palatio, who always brought a whirlwind of rumors wherever he went.
Smirking, Baruch glanced at Alon.
He was well aware of the rumors surrounding Alon.
It was said that Alon played a significant role in dealing with the outer god in the north.
More recently, he had helped a golden flash subdue two ambushing Baba Yagas in the desert city of Colony.
And as of yesterday, the most unbelievable rumor of all—that he had somehow tamed the notorious troublemaker Penia—was spreading.
As a result, the academy wizards had elevated Alon’s reputation based on these rumors.
In other words, if the rumors were true, Baruch had made a foolish mistake by challenging him.
But Baruch hadn’t acted recklessly.
He raised his right hand subtly and sent a trickle of magic into the plain ring he wore.
The ring, emitting a faint hum that only the most observant wizards might notice, began to display a number:
Baruch grinned as he saw the number appear.
The ring he wore was an artifact that could weakly project magic to roughly gauge a person’s rank and magic power.
‘As I thought, he’s weak.’
Just like yesterday.
And just like the last time he checked before provoking him, the ring showed Alon’s rank as 3.
Baruch’s confidence came from this ring.
Though it wasn’t particularly useful in most cases, it was invaluable within the academy for exposing wizards who exaggerated their rank.
Thanks to this ring, Baruch had managed to rise within the academy by targeting those wizards who boasted false claims of power.
‘And now I’ve hooked a big fish.’
Baruch had been able to provoke Alon without hesitation because of his confidence in the ring’s accuracy.
“Are both sides ready?”
Responding to the question, Baruch casually summoned his magic.
‘…That rumor about him taming Penia is a bit concerning, but the ring is reliable. There’s no way he’s that strong because of his magic.’
Baruch pondered how to handle Alon.
‘Should I finish this quickly? No, if I end it too fast, it won’t have much impact. Maybe I should play with him a little. If I drag this out too long, it might backfire. If it’s revealed that this count’s skills are just rumors, my reputation, which should be rising, might unnecessarily suffer… Right, it’s better to end this a little early.’
He gripped his staff, already imagining how he would finish Alon.
“As both sides are aware, using magic that could threaten the life of your opponent is prohibited, so please adjust the power accordingly. Now—”
The match started with a light tap from the referee’s staff.
Baruch, wearing a confident smile, moved to take action when—
He realized a white breath was escaping from his mouth.
Dazed by the sudden event, which happened so quickly that he couldn’t even register it properly, Baruch soon noticed the cold air filling his lungs.
Just as he began to question it—
He belatedly realized that his calves were freezing solid.
And not just his calves.
Looking around, he realized that the entire arena was freezing over.
White frost rapidly spread across the ground, quickly expanding its territory and turning everything in the vicinity into a frozen wasteland.
A man, standing tall on the arena, expressionless, emotionless.
Wearing black, ominous armor, from which dark magic seeped out, freezing everything around him.
And in that moment, Baruch realized.
Something had gone terribly wrong.
However, by the time he realized it—
“Glory of the Snowy Mountains.”
—Alon had already spoken the incantation.

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