Escaping the labyrinth.
It was the dream of anyone forced to live in this wretched place.
Surprisingly, unlike humans, witches actually had a chance.
Their lives stretched on for centuries—being trapped here for hundreds of years was a fate too horrible to even imagine.
“Of course, it’s not out of kindness,” Gretel said cynically.
“A witch who’s lost her mind would be a far greater threat to the labyrinth than any ordinary monster.”
That was why there had to be some kind of escape valve.
A tiny, fleeting hope.
If you were unaware of it, you wouldn’t care—but once you knew, you wouldn’t even be able to lose your mind.
Unlike humans, who were doomed to age and die within the labyrinth, witches could eventually leave this suffocating prison.
“…And when exactly is ‘eventually’?”
“At least a few hundred years.”
It wasn’t something that could be achieved by merely waiting around.
There was a reason why witches, despite their immense power, spent most of their time holed up in their towers instead of using their abilities freely.
The Families that governed the labyrinth assigned each witch a task according to the mysteries they wielded.
Expanding the labyrinth, creating new objects, conducting research on specific topics.
And all of it was recorded.
Once a witch had contributed enough, the Families would finally open the exit for them.
A binding, absolute vow made upon their own mysteries.
Hans recalled a witch who had vanished about five years ago.
He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, not being particularly close with any witches… but if she had died, the entire labyrinth would have known about it.
“Wait a second.”
His thoughts branched off in another direction.
“Then… the loss you mentioned before…?”
That comment, which he had brushed off at the time, now came swinging back like a boomerang to smack him in the back of the head.
“Seriously, your intuition is too sharp.”
Gretel muttered in a joking tone—but she didn’t deny it.
Hans had broken the witches’ rules.
Whether it was self-defense or not didn’t matter in the slightest.
From a witch’s perspective, the struggles of mere insects were meaningless.
However, even for witches, making an exception to their rules carried significant weight.
“What’s with that look? It’s only about three years.”
A pardon couldn’t be bought with gold.
Only time—not the fleeting, worthless time of ordinary people, but the time of those who truly mattered—could be placed on that scale.
Perhaps it didn’t sound like much.
But this wasn’t the first time Hans had caused trouble, nor was it the first time Gretel had cleaned up after him.
If he were to add them all up, just how many years had Gretel sacrificed for his sake?
For a mangy mutt who wasn’t a witch, nor a guardian knight, nor even a proper explorer.
Hans found himself speechless.
A whirlwind of emotions surged inside him—an impulse to shout why would you do that?, selfish relief that he was alive because of it, guilt, and self-reproach all tangled together.
“…We’re going to be seeing each other for decades anyway, aren’t we?”
For a brief moment, the fact that he had been tempted by someone else felt like a sin.
Objectively speaking, Gretel couldn’t compare to Alje.
The witch was cute but not stunning, attentive but not particularly kind.
But Gretel had saved his life.
Over and over again.
It wasn’t as if Alje had never saved him… but if he traced the cause and effect, wasn’t she the reason his life was in danger in the first place?
“You’re right.”
So unlike when he had answered Alje, Hans nodded without hesitation to Gretel.
“Well, the others say I could always just get a replacement and that I’m an idiot for investing this much in a pet… but I don’t regret it.”
Hans still couldn’t fully understand Gretel’s feelings.
She had once been an ordinary girl—but he had never once been a witch.
And yet, in this moment, the smile she gave him shined.
Not as brilliantly as a sunset, perhaps—But even a simple flame was warm enough to reach his heart.
“I’ll make sure you won’t regret it. Starting right now.”
“Hah, seriously.”
As always, her curt voice pushed him away—but this time, it carried an unmistakable trace of laughter.
“I’m busy.”
“Yeah? If you’re that busy, then…”
Hans made a motion to get up, but this time, Gretel grabbed hold of him and pulled him back.
Such a small, weak force.
A delicate touch that he could have shaken off effortlessly if he wanted to—Yet, Hans didn’t resist.
He let himself be drawn in without a fight.
“Honestly. If you’re a dog, then act like one and just cling to your master.”
*
In a corner of the workshop, where fire and molten lava flowed, there was an ordinary-looking room.
A space made for Hans.
Or rather, a space made for the two of them.
Even if Gretel wielded the mysteries of fire as if they were an extension of herself, that didn’t mean she wanted to roll around on hard granite floors or submerge herself in lava.
The foundation was solidly reinforced with granite, and although luxuries were hard to come by in the labyrinth, she had filled the space with elegant furniture and snacks—things that were easily obtainable for a witch.
There were also water glasses, an incense burner, and oil bottles.
Though right now, they were all scattered about, completely empty.
“Ughhh…”
The mysteries that witches commanded were formidable.
But a witch’s body was no different from that of an ordinary human.
What you saw was exactly what was.
Gretel, with the body of a young girl, was no match for Hans in terms of stamina.
“It’s hot.”
“Shut up. Yawn…”
The two of them lay sprawled across the mess of a bed, utterly exhausted.
Neither had the energy to clean up—not that Hans was that tired, but Gretel clung to him and refused to let go, so he had no choice.
Resting her head on Hans’s arm, Gretel grumbled that he was too hard to be a proper pillow.
When Hans chuckled and tried to pull his arm away, she smacked him again with a sharp slap.
How dare he move without his master’s permission?
The heat lingering in the air wasn’t just from the flames surrounding them.
The scent drifting between them wasn’t of smoke or ash, but something else entirely.
Gretel’s scent was faint—but that made it all the more welcome.
“Mmmhmm…”
Gretel was dozing off, but whenever Hans so much as twitched, she would immediately glare at him with sharp eyes.
So despite being perfectly awake, he found himself playing dead for no reason.
Lying there in a daze, he stared up at the blackened ceiling.
The sky wasn’t visible from inside the workshop, but the flames around them cast a faint reddish hue upon it.
Too dull to be called a sunset.
But perhaps such dullness was fitting for people like them.
Like a pair of worn-out leather shoes, always matched with their same, battered counterparts.
If someone were to wear one leather shoe and one silk shoe, no matter how luxurious or beautiful the silk might be, it would only invite ridicule.
“Johan.”
A quiet voice called out to him from behind.
Hans didn’t bother turning around.
Instead, he stretched his arm slightly, making room for Gretel to burrow further into his embrace.
Her thin yet undeniably warm body pressed against his skin.
She would never admit it, but this girl was quite the spoiled one.
She claimed to like him because he felt cool against her, as she naturally ran warmer than most.
“There is a way for you to leave the labyrinth.”
“There’s a way?”
“Yeah.”
Gone was the usual stubbornness and anger in her voice.
The girl who wielded fire now sounded impossibly calm.
“A witch can take belongings with them when they leave. That includes familiars… or slaves.”
“Then…”
“But I can’t.”
Hans had already expected that answer.
Gretel was still a young witch.
On top of that, she had already used up some of her contributions for his sake.
It would take her at least several hundred years to earn her way out of the labyrinth.
Naturally, an ordinary human like Hans wouldn’t last that long.
“Do you know why I’m telling you this?”
Hans silently shook his head.
Gretel, with her face buried against his back, couldn’t see it.
But from the way their bodies were pressed together, she could surely feel the movement.
“There’s a witch who wants you.”
“What?”
“I suppose I’ve been bragging about you too much… That witch told me this—If I hand you over, she’ll take you with her when she escapes the labyrinth in thirty years.”
Hans’s body flinched at the completely unexpected revelation.
Once again, Gretel must have felt that tremor.
“Do you want to go?”
“······.”
Hans already knew.
Gretel was special, even among witches.
The other witches wouldn’t treat him the way she did.
In fact, the moment he was handed over, he might become nothing more than a plaything and be killed immediately.
And that witch would probably present his ashes to Gretel with a smile.
Witches only held onto the last threads of their sanity because of hope—but to some extent, they were all mad.
Including this small girl who was holding onto him now.
Perhaps this was all just a test.
If Hans were to nod eagerly at such a sweet offer, Gretel might feel a surge of rage and betrayal—she might burn him to ashes on the spot.
“Another way…”
But even knowing all that, the offer was far too tempting.
If he refused, nothing would change.
He would continue living in this hellish labyrinth, leading a wretched existence until he inevitably died without ever escaping.
And after killing so many people just to survive in this place, he might really end up in hell.
But if he accepted—If Gretel let him go, and if his new owner, even if they didn’t cherish him, at least kept him alive for their own convenience.
Hans could escape this hopeless prison.
“Is there another way?”
“Huh?”
“A way for both of us to escape the labyrinth together.”
Even then, Hans ultimately did not accept the offer.
Why?
He didn’t know.
He was neither a wise man nor a knight.
He didn’t understand his own heart, nor did he want to mistake this decision for some noble display of loyalty.
He just… didn’t want to.
“You stupid mutt.”
Her words sounded scolding, yet there was a faint trace of laughter in her tone.
And despite clinging to him with all her might, her embrace was weak—so weak.
The part of his back where she had buried her face was gradually growing damp with warm moisture.
“You seriously just reject it after I went through all that trouble thinking it over for you?”
“Who was it that told me to choose my master wisely and wag my tail accordingly?”
“Hah, yeah. You sure do wag that tail of yours well.”
She laughed as she cried.
And in this moment, she was not a witch but just a girl.
Even if everything worked out perfectly—even if Hans’s new master was kind to him, even if he escaped the labyrinth and found happiness.
The one left behind, bound to the labyrinth for centuries, would never be happy.
“There isn’t. You idiot, there’s no other way. Unless you somehow live for hundreds of years.”
“But if it’s about merits, maybe if I achieve something significant…”
“Hah! And just what kind of achievement do you think you can accomplish in this labyrinth? That’s nonsense.”
However, as if to mock the warmth Gretel was giving him,Hans’s entire body turned cold at the next words she uttered.
“Unless, of course, a legendary monster suddenly shows up.”
“A legendary monster? What’s that?”
“The Thought Archive, the Sunlit Garden, the Aberrant Workshop… Urban legends, closely tied to the Five Great Houses, but their very existence is uncertain.”
Hans had to make a great effort to keep his voice from trembling.
It couldn’t be.
“Never heard of any of those.”
“Not surprising. They’re that rare and that dangerous. That’s why capturing one would instantly earn someone centuries’ worth of merit.”
No way.
“Oh, maybe you’ll recognize it if I put it this way?”
Hans felt the urge to block his ears.
But he couldn’t.
Gretel was gripping his arm tightly.
At this distance, even if he covered his ears, her voice would resonate through his body, reaching him loud and clear.
“Symbiotic monsters, mimicry monsters…And—Imitation monsters.”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.