Alje’s bold words were by no means empty.
There was also something Hans had not anticipated.
The physical abilities of a shapeshifter, capable of holding its own against large monsters even in hand-to-hand combat.
Naturally, when taking on a human form, its physical abilities would be reduced.
Even so, its fundamental nature did not change.
Hans himself had physical abilities that wouldn’t lose out even to explorers, yet he was completely overpowered.
It wasn’t just strength.
As he later observed, agility, flexibility, balance, endurance, and durability—all of these far surpassed human limits.
It wasn’t exactly new information, but it was still striking.
Even though he already knew Alje was a monster, his perception of her was different before and after seeing her true form.
“Throw it, old man!”
“…Seriously?”
“Don’t worry about it!”
There was a difference between seeing her as just a fragile girl who needed protection and witnessing her perform acrobatics that were impossible even for him.
The lightly armored girl stood on a tree branch.
Even if the branch were as thick as a person’s torso, raising both arms like that would still be a dangerous stunt.
However, the branch Alje balanced on was no thicker than a finger.
That precariously extended branch stretched across a cliff.
Using it as a bridge would be something only a squirrel could manage.
“Hurry up! Even if I fall, I can climb back up.”
The branch was so thin that the girl standing confidently in the middle of a chasm looked as though she were floating in midair.
Urged on by Alje’s impatience, Hans finally closed his eyes and threw the rope he was holding.
Ironically, it was even thicker than the branch she was standing on.
Previously, he would never have asked her to do something like this, even if she had insisted she could.
Back when he still saw her as nothing more than a delicate girl.
But now, despite his hesitation, he ultimately threw the rope toward her.
With a sharp snap, Alje effortlessly caught it.
Effortlessly?
Balancing on a thin branch with both feet and no support, catching a thrown object without dropping it?
But her stunt didn’t end there.
She twirled the rope with a looped knot over her head before throwing it.
The rope sailed through the air and landed precisely on a jagged rock on the opposite side, tightening securely.
Then, without even holding onto the rope, Alje leaped from the branch and landed on the other side.
“There! Now you come over too.”
A snap.
The branch broke from the force of her jump, but Hans wouldn’t have stepped on it anyway, so it hardly mattered.
Hans crossed the chasm in the most conventional way—by hanging onto the rope and shimmying across.
Naturally, it looked clumsy and took several extra minutes.
“Maybe I should have just carried you across.”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
He would never entrust his life to someone else like that.
Unlike Alje, if he fell, it would be the end.
Originally, they hadn’t planned to take such a difficult route.
“See? This way is much faster, though.”
Unfortunately, he couldn’t deny that.
The gap between the cliffs was wide enough that throwing the rope from the start would have been impossible.
This path was only viable because of Alje.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just finish this quickly and head back.”
“Yep! I want to look around Heimvig some more.”
“There’s not much to see.”
At least, nothing that would suit her tastes.
If they went to Sindel Strasse, the district of the wealthy and pretentious, there might be more sights to see.
But in Kumo Strasse, where they lived, the only attractions were filth and brutality.
No matter how he thought about it, there wasn’t anything Alje would enjoy there.
“Still! I heard that when rookies return from their first expedition, their seniors take them somewhere nice. I wanna go too!”
“Where did you hear that…? Do you even know what it means?”
Alje let out a cute giggle and shook her head.
“Nope! Not really. Some parts of my memory are a little fuzzy. Maybe it’s because of the medicine?”
“Huh? You take medicine? And after all that nagging at me…”
“Not that kind of medicine!”
Hans looked at the shouting Alje with a puzzled expression.
What on earth was she talking about?
There was indeed such a tradition among labyrinth explorers, but Hans had no intention of taking Alje to that “nice place.”
That was a brothel.
As a side note, that tradition also involved rookies unwittingly paying for their seniors’ expenses.
“Ah! Old man, over there!”
“…I don’t see anything.”
“There’s an Ojojo pack over there.”
At first, he thought she was just trying to change the subject, but her expression was serious.
Hans, of course, couldn’t sense anything.
But still, he chose to trust Alje.
If she had any ill intentions, she’d already had plenty of opportunities.
“A pack? Exactly how many?”
“About seven? I might’ve missed one or two.”
“That’s vague.”
If there were fewer, he would have fought them.
If there were more, he would have avoided them.
But it wasn’t enough to make him turn back.
After walking a little further, Hans finally began to see pale shapes emerging between the trees.
He couldn’t yet make out their exact number or species.
So even her senses are on an overwhelming level.
Hans instinctively reached for his sword but then changed his mind and moved his hand toward a different weapon.
Keeping it hidden behind his back, he walked forward as if unaware.
“Screech! Caw!”
As they got closer, beady eyes and sharp beaks poked out from the trees, making eye contact.
Ojojo weren’t particularly remarkable monsters.
Like all monsters, they were stronger than their size suggested, and their unique five-clawed hands gave them dexterity beyond that of humans.
Fortunately, they had the ability to use tools but not the intelligence to create them.
They were favored as familiars for witches due to their unique body structure, but wild Ojojo, while annoying, weren’t particularly dangerous.
However.
“Old man?”
Hans didn’t reply.
Instead, seeing the creatures boldly baring their beaks instead of fleeing, he pulled out the bow he had hidden and loosed an arrow.
Unlike his decent swordsmanship, his archery was hardly impressive, but experience and physical ability compensated enough for him to bring down two before the rest flapped into the air in a panic.
The startled Ojojo circled above, screeching, but their place in the food chain was at the very bottom.
When Hans gave a threatening twang of the bowstring—without even nocking an arrow—they screeched in fright and fled.
Somewhere in their tiny brains, they remembered that these hairless apes carried weapons capable of killing them even in flight.
If there had been more than ten, they would have tried to steal his bow.
Clicking his tongue, Hans glanced down at the ones he had shot.
Lifting his foot, he stomped down.
Even as monsters, they hadn’t died instantly after being pierced by arrows.
With a crack, he finished the job.
“Let’s go.”
“Huh…? You’re not going to collect materials?”
Alje, who had been acting like a seasoned labyrinth expert, suddenly asked a very rookie-like question.
Since showing off to those more skilled than oneself was always fun, Hans felt an odd amusement as he answered.
“Ojojo corpses are trash. Even if you skinned them completely and tried to sell them, you wouldn’t even make back the cost of an arrow.”
“Then why kill them? Don’t hunters hate pointless actions?”
She had a point.
Killing every monster in sight was wasteful, left a blood trail, and could attract danger—things best avoided.
But Ojojo were an exception.
“Why are you laughing all of a sudden?”
“I just realized you’re still a rookie.”
Seeing Alje’s confusion, Hans explained in a slow, patient tone.
“People in the labyrinth hate Ojojo. You could even say they despise them. It doesn’t matter if you’re a gatherer or an explorer—if you see one, you kill it, even if there’s no profit.”
“Why hate them so much? …Is it just because they’re monsters?”
“What? This place is full of monsters.”
The reason Ojojo had become the target of such hatred and extermination was, in truth, quite simple.
The creatures themselves would probably find it unfair.
Beneath his boot, the sensation of crushed flesh and shattered bone.
The sticky blood clinging to his soles.
The innards and fluids bursting out under his weight.
Hans might have been a bastard, but he wasn’t a sadist.
Yet at this moment, he savored the sensation.
Wasn’t it natural for anyone to become cruel toward something they deeply loathed?
And when that hatred was directed at a target incapable of seeking revenge, the unfulfilled grudge twisted into something even more grotesque.
“Ojojo are the familiars witches use the most. That’s all there is to it.”
Among those trapped in this labyrinth, was there anyone who didn’t despise witches?
They might remain silent out of fear, but in the shadows of their hearts, the seeds of hatred had long since grown into poison.