Chapter 28 : Kumo Strass (28)

The labyrinth is vast.

Even the witches who created the labyrinth don’t know just how vast it is.

Because this space keeps expanding beyond the limits its creators set, trying to measure its size might be a meaningless endeavor.

It could be as wide as a continent, perhaps even more.

But despite the vastness of this space, there is only one “city,” even if there are many temporary outposts.

Among the countless places that exist in the labyrinth, Alje saw the most mysterious and bizarre sight — and her jaw dropped.

“Woooow… What… what even is all this?”

“A carriage station.”

Unlike Hans’s indifferent explanation — likely due to his frequent visits — there wasn’t a single carriage in sight.

But that didn’t matter, because the surreal landscape before them was overwhelming enough.

The space was misaligned in a grid-like pattern.

Just like how the ceiling of the labyrinth reflected the outside sky, this place was similar.

Of course, there were two distinct differences.

Beyond the grid lay not the outside world they longed to reach, but somewhere else in the labyrinth.

From places that just seemed irritating and desolate to terrifying, nightmarish realms they wouldn’t dare set foot in.

And, if they wished, they could cross over to those places.

The walls of the space stretched out, occupying a specific direction.

Beyond them stood a crude wooden tower — an obvious imitation of the Witch’s Tower, though far more shabby in comparison.

From that tower, rickety ladders extended precariously outward.

People crossed over to their desired “slots” by climbing those ladders suspended in midair.

And the fragmented space swallowed them up in an instant.

“They… they disappeared!”

“They just crossed over.”

When Alje cried out in surprise, a few people turned to glance at him — but their gazes quickly drifted away, uninterested.

The labyrinth had plenty of ordinary paths where people could walk.

Of course, near the city, monsters and herbs had long been wiped out, so gatherers who couldn’t afford the travel fees had no choice but to scrape at the bottom of the barrel.

The process of using the grid-like space was both clumsy and complicated.

This contradictory description made sense because only the procedures leading up to collecting payment at the wooden tower were complicated.

The people who managed the payments were absurdly strict — until they got their money.

After that, they couldn’t care less.

The next steps were sloppy at best: crawling across the dangerously balanced ladders suspended in midair and leaping into the exact slot you wanted.

And if you made a mistake and fell into the wrong slot?

Well… it wouldn’t end well for you.

Maybe the whole system was a kind of warning — if you didn’t have the courage and balance to crawl across those narrow, floating pathways, you had no business using the carriage station in the first place.

“Ta-da! What do you think, mister?”

“Don’t mess around on the ladder.”

That’s why Hans was worried about Alje — but what the girl showed them was beyond anything he had imagined.

While everyone else crawled slowly and carefully across the horizontal ladders, the girl stood upright, walking across them lightly and gracefully.

Sure, it wasn’t that others couldn’t do the same…But most didn’t.

Anyone who made it to the carriage station had already proven themselves to some extent — and yet, this place still saw its fair share of idiots who died by stepping into the wrong rift, or fools who fell off the ladders and cracked their heads open.

On top of that, the girl was already strikingly beautiful — and the way she moved so confidently only drew more attention.

“Hey, you there. That kid’s obviously a rookie. Are you planning to drag her into some danger zone just to get her killed?”

The people who used the carriage station really were a different breed.

Look at the way they worried about strangers.

How thoughtful.

“She’s too good to waste as bait. Why not sell her to me instead?”

“Shut your damn mouth before I throw you off this thing.”

Hans responded to that warmhearted concern with his own unique style of politeness.

After snarling at the man until he backed off, Hans turned back to Alje.

“This won’t do. You go first from now on.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t exactly trust you yet. You might jump into the wrong slot, so I’ll watch you go first and then follow.”

“Got it, mister!”

With that, the girl bounced forward, effortlessly leaping over Hans — who was still crawling along — and landed neatly ahead of him.

Despite the ladders being magically fixed in place, they weren’t exactly sturdy.

Yet for someone landing on them, there was surprisingly little shaking.

If any other rookie had pulled a stunt like that, Hans would’ve kicked their backside right off the ladder without hesitation.

But for this girl, he didn’t say a word.

Because of that persistent unease — the reason clinging stubbornly to the base of his skull, no matter how much he tried to forget it.

“Sixth from the bottom, fourth from the side. You didn’t forget, right?”

“Yup! I remember!”

“Then go ahead.”

For an ordinary person, it would’ve been an impossible demand.

The height they had climbed on these ladders was considerable.

And what if that wasn’t just a rift in space below them?

What if the sky reflected on the ceiling was just an illusion?

A leap of blind faith here could lead to broken legs, a concussion — or even death.

In fact, being asked to jump from this height at all was terrifying enough.

But the moment Hans finished speaking, Alje jumped without hesitation — landing perfectly, without a single misstep, in the exact slot.

Whether it was because she trusted Hans that much… or because she was as familiar with this process as someone who had done it countless times.

*

That instant when you leap toward the gate of space always brings a surge of inexplicable fear.

No matter how many times he’d used it, this place remained an unknown for Hans — a mystery only the witches truly understood.

But those thoughts only ever lasted a split second.

The moment his body instinctively adjusted its landing and his eyes opened—He found himself standing in an atmosphere far more poisonous and oppressive than anything in Heimvig.

There was no nausea or dizziness.

Crossing thousands of meters of space felt no heavier than stepping through a door into the next room.

“Mister!”

Alje had arrived first, bouncing excitedly as she waved at him.

Her eyes sparkled as if she’d just experienced something thrilling.

“This is amazing! It’s so different actually going through it yourself!”

Something about the way she said that felt… strange.

But Hans couldn’t quite figure out why — so he let it slide without comment.

Instead, he drew his sword from his belt.

At that moment, he was more armed and ready than he had ever been before.

When it comes to survival, sturdy armor is far more valuable than a sharp sword.

Hans hadn’t brought out his treasure in a long time — a masterpiece crafted in collaboration with the artisan Gretel.

It was made from the toughest monster hide, reinforced with a thin layer of metal.

There were urban legends about objects imbued with mystical powers, as if they themselves were alive — far-fetched stories, no doubt.

But setting aside such fantasies, this armor was still among the finest the labyrinth had to offer.

Ah…Come to think of it, Hans realized he had his own urban legend standing right next to him.

He shook his head, brushing off the useless thought.

It didn’t matter — even if those kinds of mythical items really existed, they were far beyond his reach.

In fact, even this armor was more than an ordinary hunter like him deserved.

Better not get greedy for things beyond his means — or it might just get him killed.

But just as that thought crossed his mind, his eyes fell on the absurdly beautiful girl beside him.

Her appearance was striking… but what lay inside must have been even more extraordinary.

“Mister? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not.”

“You totally had that shady look again.”

“.…”

The miracle she carried within her.

Avoiding any dangerous questions, Hans simply gestured for Alje to follow him.

“Stay back.”

“Huh?”

Let’s emphasize this once more — the procedures at the carriage station are both complicated and sloppy.

More precisely, they’re complicated before they take your money and sloppy afterward.

And because of that, things like this happen far too often.

The space Hans and Alje had just exited flickered — and then a clear image formed once again.

In the vast, empty sky of the labyrinth’s strange city, something began to take shape.

No — not just one thing.

Several.

Hans drew his sword.

Unlike his black armor, the blade wasn’t anything worth bragging about.

But he had plenty of them.

That was the point — it didn’t matter if they broke.

So without hesitation, he slashed toward the figures emerging from beyond the distorted space.

The moment those flickering shapes solidified and burst through—Clang!

A sharp collision rang out.

The enemy turned their fall into a charge, using the gentle downward slide through the spatial rift to gather speed.

And at the front of their formation — a shield.

Because of that, Hans’s surprise attack failed to do any real damage.

Worse still, scraping his blade along the half-charging shield sent a jolt of pain through his wrist.

That was a bad sign.

It meant the enemy was well-practiced at this — ambushing hunters by following their trail through the carriage station’s unstable gates.

Violence was strictly controlled in Heimvig — but outside the labyrinth, that was far from the case.

In fact, most hunters valued human prey far more than monsters.

“Still… carriage station fishing? That’s pretty bold.”

“Heh. We haven’t done this in a while, you know.”

Hans recognized the face.

So the guy had been worried enough to follow them in after all — the same one who’d pretended to be so concerned for Alje’s safety earlier.

How thoughtful.

And on top of that, the man had pushed in cautiously, leading with his shield.

Behind him, Hans could hear his companions drawing their weapons with unsettling familiarity.

“With bait that tempting waving right in front of us, how could we possibly resist, huh?”

“Haah…”

Fights outside the labyrinth were nothing unusual.

But even inside the city, ambushes like this were far too common.

Sure, it was natural for flowers with a strong scent to attract pests — but this was getting ridiculous.

“Is that so? I guess it’s been so long you’ve gotten rusty. If you’re targeting lone hunters… you must’ve forgotten a pretty basic lesson.”

Because there were only two kinds of people reckless enough to wander this deadly labyrinth alone:Either they were clueless rookies who had no idea what they were getting into…Or they were seasoned veterans confident they could survive any threat on their own.

Of course, even the most skilled warriors could meet an untimely end in the labyrinth, just like how Hans had once been chased off a cliff by a pack of three-eyed hounds.

But that didn’t mean they were easy prey.

After all, while there might be no reason for death, there was always a reason for survival.

“Come on now, Hansel. You think we’d go after a promising hunter like you without a second thought? If you were alone, we wouldn’t have dared touch you.”

The man’s grin widened.

“But you’re not alone, are you?”

Nothing that grows in the wasteland blooms beautifully.

Only flowers, untouched by harsh winds, sweltering heat, the bitterness of winter, and the relentless drought, could afford to smell that sweet.

And so, supreme beauty always walks hand in hand with ignorance and fragility.

“…Can’t even argue with that. You bastards.”

Hans scoffed, tightening his grip on his sword. He wanted to glance back at Alje — but in this tense standoff, even the smallest distraction could be fatal.

So he spoke without turning, his voice dry and calm.

“Run, Alje.”

“W-what…?”

“No matter how far you go, I’ll find you. And you can handle monsters just fine, right? So get as far away from here as you can.”

Hans, on the other hand, was like a weed — not beautiful, but because of that, neither fragile nor ignorant.

And his voice, usually as dry as the summer heat, cracked and rose like parched earth splitting under pressure.

“…NOW!”