The entrance to the Sunken Labyrinth was a gaping, black hole in the ground behind the dilapidated Mercado district. The air immediately turned cold, thick with the stench of stagnant water and something metallic—the faint, lingering smell of dried monster blood.
"Stay close, Juts," I commanded, my voice flat.
Juts, despite his earlier fear, straightened his posture. The pain from my forced Soul-Bind had subsided, leaving him with an unsettling restlessness, a nervous energy he now channeled into vigilance. The Guild Master's actions had forced a shift in him, a crack in his naive worldview. He was still innocent, but he was no longer trusting.
We moved into the darkness. The stone tunnels were slippery with slime and echoing with the drip of water. I ignored the provided map. It was useless—the Labyrinth was notorious for its structural instability and constant flooding, which meant the routes changed weekly. My advantage was not a piece of parchment; it was the geographical knowledge accumulated over decades in my previous life. I remembered the core structural weaknesses of these specific Vigan-era sewers.
We hadn't walked twenty paces before the first obstacle appeared. It wasn't a swarm of low-level grunts, but a lone, massive creature blocking the main artery.
It was a Plated Gorgon.
This wasn't just a tough monster; it was a mid-level Rare-rank creature, a mini-boss. It was far too powerful to be a random guard in a test for two 'novice' hunters. Its presence confirmed my suspicion: the Guild Master hadn't just sent us on a difficult mission; he'd sent us to an execution. He knew a Miasma Shroud wouldn't tolerate a powerful rival, which meant the Gorgon had to be the Miasma Shroud's protector, or perhaps, the true boss of this section. The Guild Master was intentionally vague, letting us believe the Miasma Shroud was the only threat.
The Plated Gorgon stood nearly seven feet tall, its body a grotesque fusion of human and insectoid forms, encased entirely in thick, obsidian-black chitin plates. Its segmented arms ended in razor-sharp bone claws, and where its head should be, there was only a cluster of writhing black tentacles.
"Dax! That's... a Gorgon! Guild hunters only face those in platoons!" Juts whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He reached instinctively for his Common Gauntlet, its surface suddenly looking frail and useless.
"Quiet," I hissed, pushing him back against the wall. "It's the first test. Its strength is its defense."
The Gorgon operated like a siege weapon. It was slow but hit with devastating force, capable of crushing bone and concrete with its claws. Its weak point was its joints, specifically the soft, unarmored rings where its plates met, but only when it moved. Its primary artifact ability was 'Obsidian Bulwark,' which could momentarily harden its entire carapace to deflect Epic-rank blows.
I slipped my hand into my Rare Gauntlet and pulled out the Carrion Crawler Card. I didn't activate it yet. The Gorgon was too powerful for a direct fight. I needed to create an opportunity.
"Juts, the moment I attack, you run to the first junction and hide. Do not look back. Do you understand?" I instructed.
"No! I'm not leaving you! We're a team!" he protested, planting his feet stubbornly.
A flash of impatience, cold and brutal, surged through me. Sentiment. It's always sentiment that kills. But I needed him alive. For now.
"This is not a negotiation. You are my support. Your task is to survive so I have an escape route," I countered, injecting a sliver of convincing urgency into my tone. "Now go!"
The Gorgon detected our presence. With a screech that sounded like grinding stone, it charged, its massive body shaking the very foundation of the tunnel.
I didn't wait. As the Gorgon lumbered forward, I activated my Rare Gauntlet's essence ability, focusing the residual energy from all the absorbed Rock Rabbit Essences. I didn't use the useless Rock Rabbit Card's ability. Instead, I used my knowledge to combine the essence—not the cards—of several Common monsters, an advanced, high-risk technique only a reborn hunter would attempt with a Common-to-Rare artifact.
The gauntlet pulsed, and instead of a powerful attack, a blinding, localized flash of light erupted from my palm. The light was followed by a chaotic, loud grinding sound, the auditory signature of a massive rockfall.
The Gorgon, relying on its armor and charging momentum, paused momentarily, its light-sensitive tentacles recoiling from the sudden flash. The sound of 'crushing rock' confused its primitive combat programming. It was expecting a direct strike it could block, not a sensory overload.
In that critical second, Juts—seeing his moment—darted past me and sprinted toward the nearest bend, vanishing into the darkness.
Now, it was just me and the beast.
I slammed the Carrion Crawler Card into my gauntlet and activated its 'Carapace' ability. A thin, spiky layer of the Gorgon's own chitinous material momentarily coated my body. It wasn't full armor; it was just a deflection layer.
The Gorgon lunged, swinging one of its massive, bone-bladed arms. I didn't try to block; I parried the blow, using the brief duration of the 'Carapace' on my arm as a sacrificial shield. The Gorgon's claw sheared away the fleeting armor, but the impact sent me sliding under its massive frame.
This was the opening. The creature's joints were now momentarily exposed as its body twisted for the strike.
I used the momentum of the slide to deliver a precise, targeted kick with my combat boot—not to kill, but to irritate and distract. The kick landed on the softest, lowest joint of its foremost leg.
The Gorgon shrieked, not in pain, but in confusion. It had detected an impossible strike.
I rolled out from beneath its shadow, drawing the Poisonous Mite Card from my gauntlet. I didn't need its dust. I needed the residual toxin still embedded in the card's energy signature.
As the Gorgon prepared for another, slower, more controlled attack, I hurled the Poisonous Mite Card directly at its face. The card was destroyed upon impact, releasing a concentrated burst of irritating essence.
The Gorgon's tentacles writhed violently as the irritant hit its sensory organs. It let out a deep, grating roar of disorientation, momentarily abandoning its combat stance. It raised its armored arm to instinctively claw at the irritated area on its face.
In that movement, its neck joint—the crucial, unarmored juncture beneath the thick chitin—was briefly exposed.
I didn't hesitate. I used the slippy ground, my own low stature, and the momentum from my initial slide. I launched myself at the Gorgon's neck, driving my full weight and the razor-sharp edge of my obsidian gauntlet into the exposed joint.
There was a sickening CRUNCH.
The Gorgon stiffened, its roar cut short. The obsidian material of my gauntlet, super-hardened by the constant influx of absorbed essence, severed its main circulatory nerve. The massive body crashed to the ground, kicking up a spray of black slime and dust.
I stood over the fallen monster, my chest heaving, the metallic smell of its blood strong in the air. The fight was over in less than thirty seconds—a masterpiece of tactical precision, turning an opponent's strengths and size against itself using seemingly useless cards and stolen knowledge.
A large, shimmering Plated Gorgon Essence floated where the monster's core had been. I didn't hesitate. I slammed my hand into the essence and began the absorption process. The energy was massive, overwhelming. The sheer force threatened to tear my gauntlet—and my body—apart. I gritted my teeth and endured the searing pain, forcing the essence to comply.
When it was done, my Rare Gauntlet had achieved a perfect synthesis of its consumed energy. It now pulsed with a cold, terrifying dark purple light, and a faint, shimmering, barely visible layer of chitin—the Gorgon's own armor—had formed on its surface. My mastery over the Rare Gauntlet had reached a new peak.
I had proven my power. The Guild Master's test was irrelevant.
"Dax!" Juts called out, his voice echoing from the bend. He cautiously re-emerged, his eyes wide as he looked at the fallen behemoth. "You... you killed it. A Plated Gorgon!" He rushed over, not to inspect the body, but to inspect me. "Are you hurt?"
I shrugged off his concern, my focus already shifting to the next challenge. "Its essence is absorbed. Now, we proceed. The Miasma Shroud is the target."
I collected the monster's residual artifacts—the bone claws and pieces of its rare obsidian plating—and turned to the map. The Gorgon's lair was a dead end. That meant the Miasma Shroud wasn't here.
The Guild Master had lied. He hadn't sent us to kill a boss; he had sent us to kill a bodyguard.
"The Miasma Shroud lives deeper. Let's find out what the Guild Master is truly hiding down here," I muttered, my lips curling into a predatory smile. The Labyrinth of Lies was about to be exposed.