“Ugh…”
The thick stench of blood jolted his drowsy mind awake in an instant.
It was the scent of monster blood—far more pungent and rancid than that of human blood, carrying a sharp, almost spoiled tang.
That was why Hans had been confused.
Alje’s blood had never smelled like that.
Even if the toxic miasma that fueled her mysterious powers couldn’t be concealed, her mimicry ability was undoubtedly extraordinary.
As his survival instincts registered the warning signs of danger, Hans, who had been curled up, sprang to his feet.
“Huh?”
Not much time seemed to have passed.
He was still lying in the swamp, on a rare patch of solid ground that he had somehow managed to find in this treacherous terrain.
He had been resting on broad, flat leaves spread above and below him, likely gathered from nearby.
Sitting up, he realized that, despite having coughed up blood just before passing out, his condition felt remarkably stable.
A manufactured lightness enveloped his body—a sensation he had become all too familiar with.
The result of a [miracle] healing him.
“Where’s Alje?”
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, his concerns naturally shifted to the girl.
And to the foolish mistake he had nearly made.
“…”
The reason he had always refrained from taking the fruit within arm’s reach was because he knew it was poisoned.
No matter how smooth or tempting it appeared, how could he have forgotten that?
Some people might choose a single night of paradise, but when faced with a similar choice, Hans would always choose decades of hell instead.
Besides, he had already felt, in the most visceral way, just how toxic the girl’s body was—whether she intended it or not.
If her blood was like that, then what about the rest of her?
His mind snapped into focus.
No—if he was already searching for Alje despite all this, then perhaps he still hadn’t truly come to his senses.
Of course, it wasn’t because he intended to pick up where they had left off.
“Alje! Alje!”
Ignoring his usual survival instincts, Hans called out loudly as he moved toward the increasingly thick scent of blood.
He knew it was reckless.
But he also had a hunch.
And sure enough—his guess was right.
The stench led him back to the pit they had visited before.
The overwhelming, sickening smell made his head spin.
Just how many had died here?
With that fleeting thought, he peered into the pit—and was struck speechless.
The entire area was drenched in blood and littered with corpses.
He had seen his fair share of brutal carnage.
Given how strong the smell was, he had already suspected that Alje had gone on a rampage.
But this.
“Alje?”
“Ah, mister?”
Hans had naturally assumed that if Alje were to go on a rampage, it would be in her monstrous form.
Sure, she was unbelievably strong for someone who appeared human, but in the end, she had always shown signs of being wounded—bitten, bleeding.
Yet now, standing in the midst of this unrestrained, indiscriminate slaughter, drenched in toxic blood with her arms hanging limply—it wasn’t some grotesque, alien monster.
It was a girl who had never abandoned her human form.
“Aah! Don’t look! I’m all dirty right now!”
The cheerful voice clashed with the horrific scene.
Her reaction was like that of a young maid who had accidentally spilled pie dough all over herself while baking—mild embarrassment and flustered panic, but nothing more.
Something crunched under her foot with an almost cute squelching sound.
A tiny snake’s body had been crushed beneath her step.
Ogaksa were small, but they were still monsters.
Their physical durability should have been far beyond that of ordinary creatures.
Yet the scattered chunks of flesh littering the area around her were all the same—ripped apart, shredded.
Had she taken her monstrous form, she would have devoured them whole, leaving nothing behind.
But these tiny, tattered fragments—each had been torn apart one by one.
With those delicate, human-like hands.
Hans could tell, even without inspecting closely.
The raw, jagged edges of the torn flesh, the sheer ease with which she had ripped them apart—she had barely exerted any effort.
A hunter, after all, was trained to read the signs left on corpses.
“Wait a sec, okay? I’ll go wash up before we head back!”
“Wait, where are you even going to find water—”
“Don’t worry about that! Just go, go on ahead!”
His voice instinctively hardened, but Hans’s tone was naturally sharp-edged to begin with.
Alje didn’t notice anything unusual.
She was pure-hearted.
Monsters lived their lives drenched in blood and accepted it as natural.
Even saints, having tended to the sick from childhood, were accustomed to sights of brutality.
Alje simply assumed Hans would be the same.
But he wasn’t.
Before falling into the labyrinth, he had been just an ordinary person.
The time he had spent in this place was so dense, so overwhelming, that it had buried his past life completely—but still, for the first time in a long while, Hans felt a perfectly normal sense of revulsion.
So much blood had been spilled that even the mud couldn’t absorb it all.
It pooled and ran, thick and sluggish.
And in the middle of it all, the girl spoke with a carefree innocence, her eyes glimmering red.
Her eye color hadn’t changed.
But depending on his state of mind, Hans sometimes saw amber in them.
Sometimes, the colors of the sunset.
*
The Feather of the One-Winged Angel, Witchification, the Horn of Ogaksa—And now, the freshly plucked eye of the Three-Eyed Hound.
Their expedition was over.
Hans and Alje were on their way back to Heimvig.
Calling it an expedition felt excessive for such a minor journey, but then again, Hans had originally been planning to go alone.
“It’s done.”
Time had passed, and once again, twilight was cast upon the sky.
As much as they wanted to return to the city immediately, reality made it difficult.
It was too far to travel on foot.
Most people, including Hans, typically used the carriage stations to navigate the labyrinth.
But those stations had designated entry and exit points.
Hans knew the location of the closest exit that led back to the city, but it was still a considerable distance away.
So, for now, the two of them returned to the temporary base they had set up earlier.
“Yeah.”
“Here.”
Hans sealed the final ingredient inside a specially treated pouch and wiped his bloodstained hands with the cloth Alje handed him.
Meanwhile, Alje casually stripped off her clothes, swapping out the leather padding tucked between her undergarments.
The previous piece, which had been pressed against her wound, was now soaked through and heavy.
No matter how much he smelled it, it was just the scent of human blood.
And yet, no matter how similar it seemed, the poison embedded within it could never be the same.
“Hans~”
“What.”
“Staring like that is rude, you know?”
“What’s the point of telling me that now.”
Still, Hans obediently averted his gaze.
The girl’s bare body was, of course, sculpturally beautiful.
Somehow, despite being drenched in blood and dirt earlier, her skin was now pristine—freshly cleaned, as if she had been reborn.
But even with her ample chest, she couldn’t hide the coin-sized wound that still oozed fresh blood.
Rather than being flustered, Hans found himself growing calm.
It was like trying to not think about something—only to become more aware of it.
The wound from the Holy Spear.
No matter how exceptional Alje’s mimicry was, it was the one flaw she couldn’t conceal.
“We’ll sleep here tonight. At sunrise, we’ll head back. You should get some rest too.”
“But does day and night even mean anything inside the labyrinth?”
“It doesn’t mean much.”
The labyrinth is dark even during the day.
Every space has a ceiling, and the ‘sky’ people see is merely a mirrored reflection of the outside world.
It doesn’t mean much, but… daylight is still brighter than night.
And to maintain optimal condition, it’s best to keep a consistent biological rhythm.
That’s why Hans was deliberately trying to sleep now.
Even though [Miracle] had already washed away not just his wounds, but his fatigue as well.
He should be tired, but he wasn’t.
That unnatural sensation—so similar to a girl who should be dead but wasn’t—left him unsettled.
The two of them moved deeper into the cave, lying down with a reasonable distance between them.
“Hans, are you asleep?”
“······.”
It was only for a moment.
When Hans didn’t respond, Alje quietly sat up.
Then, she dragged over the soft leather she had been lying on and settled down beside him.
Lying down again, she giggled mischievously and tugged at his arm, hugging it tightly.
A gentle warmth wrapped around him, and Hans flinched before he could stop himself.
“What are you doing?”
“Why are you pretending to sleep?!”
“I’m not pretending—”
Hans trailed off mid-sentence.
He didn’t know what to say.
Right now, Alje unsettled him.
He had tried to separate ‘the girl’ from ‘the monster’ in his mind, but after seeing her standing amidst a pit of blood and venomous vipers, those two images had merged into one.
That clear, ringing voice—so out of place amid such carnage—still echoed in his ears.
Blood, slaughter, chunks of flesh, the stench of raw meat.
These were all ordinary things in a hunter’s life.
Hadn’t his own hands been gripping a bloodstained blade just moments ago?
Anyone else would have dismissed it as nothing more than a grisly sight.
They might have been disgusted by the blood, but it wouldn’t have stirred anything deeper.
But Alje wasn’t just a monster.
She wasn’t just a saint.
She was a girl.
A child who carried a light and purity not found in this labyrinth.
“Alje.”
“Yeah?”
Monsters, saints—Hans finally realized the true reason for his discomfort.
In the end, those things didn’t really matter to him.
What truly drew him in was the pure, snow-white girl.
It wasn’t about what lay beneath that mask—it was simply that he hated seeing blood and filth stain that pristine white.
“Why do you like me?”
“Whoa… Do people usually ask that so bluntly?”
“Forget it if you don’t want to answer.”
Then, what about Alje?
“Ugh. You’re not allowed to laugh if I tell you.”
“Alright.”
“But, Hans oppa… you’re my prince.”
“Pfft.”
“Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!”
Had they both been projecting their own ideals onto each other all along?
“Come on, me? A prince? I could barely pass as a knight.”
“It’s just a figure of speech! I don’t need a castle, a white horse, or jewels. My prince only needs one thing.”
In the end, both Hans and Alje had been forcing what they wanted to see onto reality.
That’s how the world works.
People fail to see the essence of things.
Even when they do see it, they ignore it, closing their eyes and turning away.
Not just Hans and Alje—Hans and Gretel, too.
Everyone, whether they love or hate someone.
“Even if I were cursed… and everyone came to hate me… I’d want at least one person to stay by my side until the end.”
“And with just one kiss, the curse would break, and everyone would be happy…”
“I know that’s impossible now. I’m an adult, after all.”
“But still, just one person—I just want one person to stay with me.”
“Alright.”
Was that an affirmation of Alje’s words?
Or was it just a meaningless, hollow response?
The night of the labyrinth was slowly fading.
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