Chapter 632 - Cave, Labyrinth, Abyss
"Damn it," Bran muttered in a voice that sounded like the rustling of dry leaves.
"Impressive," he repeated with a rough tone tinged with a fragment of emotion.
As Enkrid withdrew his sword, Luagarne handed him a square cloth.
He wiped the blade of his blackened silver sword, stained with manticore blood, and sheathed it.
The sharp sound of the blade sliding into the scabbard broke the stillness that had settled over the area.
Everyone was left speechless after witnessing the manticore being cleaved in one strike.
The eyes that had once regarded Enkrid with respect now brimmed with admiration and astonishment.
"With a single slash?"
"Truly remarkable."
"I can't think of him as a competitor anymore." A few fairies murmured under their breath.
Enkrid didn't see the fairies as fools.
If he hadn't intervened, as Luagarne suggested, they likely wouldn't have lost three lives in killing the manticore.
With four archers supporting eight fairy swordsmen and the added strength of spirit magic and essence—
Perhaps just one?
With a bit of luck, it might have been possible to win without any sacrifices.
If there were factors, he hadn't accounted for, luck might not even be necessary.
They could've done it without losing a single life purely through their skill.
Though, it would have been impossible to slay it in a single strike, as he had done.
On the surface, Luagarne's assessment of losing at least three lives seemed accurate.
But if someone was determined to sacrifice themselves?
These fairies were resolute, their eyes carrying a grim determination.
It was clear from the gaze of one who had fought and killed.
Some were merely filled with a sense of duty, while others had resigned themselves to death.
The difference lay in their resolve.
Soldiers.
It was the difference between soldiers and civilians.
Enkrid's ability to assess situations and his keen insight had always been exceptional.
Coupled with his skill in combat, including techniques that considered environmental factors and sensory prowess akin to foresight, he could quickly grasp the crux of any situation.
Even among fairies, there are soldiers.
The core of this fairy group consisted of such individuals, mixed in with ordinary fairies.
The eight fairies wielding swords showed signs of definite training.
By the standards of the Border Guard, at least four of them have completed basic training.
If subjected to actual training, fairies—known for their calm demeanor—might grit their teeth in frustration.
Still, their current state reflected their dedication.
Among the archers, the difference between those who pursued it as a profession and those who treated it as a hobby was evident.
Some fairies wielding bows could manipulate spirits and essence, but most could not.
Thus—
"Only a few should enter the cave," Enkrid stated calmly.
Ignoring reality would only increase casualties.
"I was about to suggest the same," Ermen said, watching the demon-faced hounds barking across the river.
"Fairies are stubborn," Bran added.
He implied that, despite knowing their limitations, they would insist on going inside.
"Even knowing they'd die?" Enkrid questioned, to which Bran replied,
"Some lack a sense of reality. Others refuse to leave everything to Shinar. And then—"
"And then?"
The tree giant subtly smiled.
His bark-like lips twisted upward in a semblance of a grin.
"Four male warriors are infatuated with Shinar. They'd rather die than let her remain the bride of a demon."
As Bran spoke, three fairies approached from beside the large fairy.
They were men, their training and discipline evident in their physiques.
These were soldiers—trained fairies.
Their expressions were calm but serious, as if lost in thought.
The smallest of the group took a deep breath, almost imperceptibly, before speaking.
"I'd be fine with being her second husband. What do you think?"
No matter how absurd the statement, Enkrid processed its meaning with composure.
Second husband?
Then, who would be the first?
Me.
For a moment, Enkrid felt disoriented.
"…Is that how it works in fairy society?"
He managed to hold onto his composure and asked.
Among nobles, some kept concubines or multiple wives, but that wasn't the norm.
Perhaps, inversely, having multiple husbands wasn't unusual?
An empty space could be filled, he thought, choosing to respect their culture rather than express shock.
At this, the other two fairies spoke simultaneously.
"Stop joking around."
"I'm fine being the third… uh, no."
The third fairy, trying to add humor, closed his mouth when Ermen gave him a stern look, akin to a human reprimanding another.
Behind them, Luagarne nodded in agreement.
"So, it was a joke."
Should he feel relieved or admire their audacity to joke even in such a situation?
Afterward, Ermen began assigning those who would enter and those who would remain behind.
Some explained their reasons for wanting to enter, sharing heartfelt stories of their care for Shinar.
One mentioned how much they cherished her, despite previously calling her a cursed child.
It was hard to distinguish whether this was fairy humor or sincerity.
So, Enkrid left it alone.
As the others debated, Enkrid observed the cave.
"This isn't an ordinary place," he remarked.
Luagarne spoke beside him.
"It's a demonic domain."
Enkrid nodded, and Fel added,
"Whatever it is, we'll cut through it all, won't we?" Fel's confidence was commendable.
When he became timid, his skills dropped to less than half.
During sparring, Enkrid often encouraged him to maintain his resolve.
"Are you a shepherd of the wilderness? Or just someone beaten by sheep?"
"You're worse than Ropord."
"With those skills, you dare speak of talent?"
"What are you doing? Dancing?"
These words often sparked Fel to display his full abilities.
Using appropriate remarks to motivate others was one of Enkrid's talents, and he did so now.
"Good. I'm counting on you."
Fel shrugged his shoulders in response, brimming with confidence.
If a few words could boost morale, what better strategy was there?
Still, as Enkrid stared at the cave entrance, he couldn't shake the ominous feeling that loomed over him.
The ominous air tried to unsettle his heart, whispering like a malicious spirit in his ear, but he dismissed it with ease.
They said that the demonic domains could plant the seeds of crimson dread in those who merely laid eyes upon it.
Yet, it had no effect on Enkrid.
The same went for Luagarne.
However, for her, such dread symbolized another kind of transformation, and to a curious Frog like her, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
While watching the cavern, Luagarne noticed a faint blush spreading across Enkrid's face and asked him,
"How do you feel right now?"
At times, Luagarne would ask about Enkrid's feelings, and this was one of those times.
She wanted to understand his perspective, how he thought, and how he accepted the present.
It was curiosity fitting for a Frog.
After briefly reflecting, Enkrid gave an honest answer.
"A little excited." He meant it.
Wasn't this what people called a demon?
He found himself eager to see what it had in store.
When honing his swordsmanship, he would often thirst for real combat.
This felt the same.
Enkrid acknowledged that he harbored a certain instinct to seek out strong opponents.
"I thought you'd say that," Luagarne nodded.
Her prediction fell within expectations—something borne from her observations and explorations of him.
Her curiosity as a Frog was partially satisfied but was also piqued further, making her eager for what might come next.
While Enkrid harbored some excitement, his foremost goal remained to find and question Shinar.
He hadn't forgotten.
As the three stood side by side, staring into the cavern, Bran approached from behind, holding his usual cigar.
Ermen still seemed busy convincing some members of his kin, snippets of fairy language occasionally drifting over.
"What's the name of that demonic domain?"
Enkrid asked the Tree Giant Bran, with whom he shared a rapport.
Bran formed a circular puff of smoke from his lips, then extinguished the cigar by clasping it in his hand.
Ordinary flames couldn't so much as singe Bran's skin, so the ember from the cigar didn't faze him.
Although, being a Tree Giant, his smoking habit was peculiar—trees naturally despised fire.
"No name. We just call it the Labyrinth. To be precise, we deliberately avoided naming it. Sometimes we refer to the demon inside as the 'Courtship Demon,' but even then, we don't give it a true name."
The term "Courtship Demon" carried a strange, almost romantic ring to it.
Bran explained further, and the reason behind it became clear.
To name, worship, or fear a demon gave it strength.
Rem had once said something similar from the lens of his sorcery.
"Refusing to name it is one way to deal with it, but that's more of a last resort. If you're that terrified, it probably means you've already been stripped of everything and wouldn't dare call it by name anyway."
Though their approaches differed, the meaning aligned.
"It's about time," Bran said.
Turning around, Enkrid saw that that was indeed the case.
Three more fairies had joined, standing beside Ermen.
"With Bran, that makes four. We've reduced the numbers significantly," Ermen said.
"Four?" Luagarne asked, curious as ever.
Being a Frog, she couldn't simply let unanswered questions slide, even if most of her attention was on Enkrid.
"Taking more would only be a hindrance," Ermen replied.
Initially, Ermen had intended to enter with them, prepared to die alongside the group if need be.
But with a glimmer of hope now visible, he opted for a smaller, elite team instead.
Still, Luagarne found it odd that so many capable individuals had been left behind.
"All the ones who handle spirits or energies seem to have been excluded." "That's just how it has to be," Ermen replied.
Enkrid watched the unfolding situation and glanced at the so-called Labyrinth.
His mind recalled the techniques of spirit and energy manipulation the fairies had shown him earlier.
"If they could take down a manticore…" That kind of ability was formidable.
"They've managed to handle the hordes of monsters so far." Yet the fairy knights who ventured into the labyrinth had perished.
What did that imply?
As thoughts raced through his mind, Enkrid arrived at an answer. "Inside that labyrinth, they can't use their spirits or energies, can they?" Ermen's eyes widened slightly, betraying his surprise.
He quickly returned to his composed demeanor, nodding.
His tone remained matter-of-fact.
"That's why only those who've trained their bodies are going in."
At this point, Enkrid's perceptiveness transcended intuition, bordering on foresight. His thoughts organized themselves, and another conclusion emerged.
"Fairies, whose power relies entirely on spirit energy, never intended to enter in the first place." If they entered, they'd merely add to the body count.
From the beginning, Ermen had planned to convince his kin at the cavern's entrance and send in only a select few.
Enkrid's arrival had simply expedited their decision.
"A trigger."
His presence had likely made it easier to persuade the fairies who wished to follow.
Spirit energy was the very foundation of a fairy's power. Without it, entering the labyrinth meant forfeiting most of their strength.
"We can't leave Lady Shinar to be the demon's bride," said one of the fairies, his tone calm yet resolute.
He was among those venturing inside.
His name was Arcoyris.
Indeed, as he said, they couldn't allow that.
Questions would come first once they found her, but Enkrid no longer needed to press them further.
With his gear ready, he saw no reason to delay.
"May the spirits of wood and flowers guide you, and may the goddess of fortune watch over you," Ermen said.
With that, Enkrid gave a curt nod and stepped forward.
The blackened soot marking the cavern's entrance was the threshold of the Labyrinth, the demonic domain.
Just as any uninvited guest might be met with hostility, so too did the Labyrinth greet its intruders.
Rumble!
Darkness swallowed them as they entered.
Yet, though their sight was obscured, their other senses remained sharp.
The smell, sounds, and tactile sensations were unchanged, as were the instincts that flared within.
Hearing the guttural rumble, Enkrid drew his swords without hesitation, gripping one in each hand.
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Many thanks to my friend Tulips for proofreading the chapter :)
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