Magic Academy Slave Team (2)
The bald man seemed to be the leader of that slave party.
And surprisingly, instead of planning to fight me, he had come with a strategy to recruit me.
The logic he poured out was smooth and relentless.
"Anyway, with Tier-1 magic, you can't break through this shield."
It was incorrect information—but at the moment, it was effectively true. To destroy a goblin shield with Tier-1 magic, Wisdom needs to exceed 13.
"And that toothpick-like arrow is the same."
The bald man pointed at the arrow Yer-nil was holding. This was also true. The arrow would either bounce off the shield or stick uselessly into it.
"If that's all the weapons you've got, then there's no way for you to attack us past these shields."
Another plausible threat.
Goblins don't know how to properly use shields and just run around holding them however they like, so you can snipe the gaps—but if shields are positioned properly like riot police at the front line, they're genuinely troublesome.
"And the moment you try to chant something, our archer will punch a hole straight through your forehead."
The bald man added, pointing at his team's archer.
"If you fight us like this, you've got zero chance of winning. Don't overthink it—just hand over that elf bitch. I promise I'll let you go peacefully. Or… there's another option. We form a new five-man party without her."
Break their will, then move to recruitment.
"That'd be better for you too, wouldn't it? Safer to travel with four men than with that elf bitch."
No.
I can sleep while setting Yer-nil on watch, but if I trusted you people, I wouldn't be able to close my eyes for a second.
But that threat seemed to work pretty well on Yer-nil as a wedge to split us apart. She glanced at me sideways, visibly shaken.
"C-Caleb…?"
"How about it? Join us and form a new party of five. It's a good deal for you too. Up until now, you probably couldn't touch her because she was your only companion, right? Now you can do whatever you want."
"..."
"Honestly, we're the kind of guys who could die at any moment in this labyrinth. This might be your last chance. Don't miss it."
Yer-nil's face went pale.
She hesitated, then took about half a step away from me.
It was time to ease her anxiety.
The reason I'd silently listened to the bald man ramble on was to analyze them as much as possible during that time. But it seemed there was nothing left to learn.
"Cut the bullshit. If you back off right now, I'll let you live."
I warned the bald man in the firmest tone I could manage.
"Puhahaha!"
He burst out laughing.
"You're joking, right?"
"I'm serious. This is your last chance."
That was the last shred of humanity I could offer.
No matter how shitty the situation, someone who was a modern civilian just half a day ago doesn't find murder such a simple thing.
Even so, I had no intention of freezing up in a situation like this because of the psychological burden of killing. In horror movies, guys like that always die first.
In this place, even a moment's hesitation is fatal. I had already made up my mind. If someone was going to die here, it wouldn't be me—it would be you.
If you don't accept this offer, I will kill you on the spot. I mean it. I'm already prepared, and I can slam a Fireball into your shameless faces at any time.
Surprisingly, my mental state was calm and cold. That ruthless resolve felt comfortable, like clothes that fit perfectly. I barely recognized myself.
"Haa…"
The bald man scratched the top of his completely hairless head.
"Can't be helped. Kill them."
He signaled to the archer.
But the archer couldn't loose the bowstring.
[It is your turn.]
[Action Points: ■■■■]
Because it was my turn.
Electrocution.
One of the status effects in this game.
With Lightning Shock, you can only electrocute one target at a time—but water changes the story.
Honestly, I didn't know if it would work as perfectly as in the game, but up until now, the world I'd experienced followed the game's rules almost 100%.
And even assuming real-world physics, unless it's pure distilled water, electricity would obviously conduct through a puddle like that.
"Lightning Shock."
First, I cast lightning magic with the wand I'd taken from Yer-nil. The target was the puddle.
Crack!
Lightning has short range, but since it's not a "projectile," the attack is instantaneous.
Blue current burst from the wand and connected to the puddle on the floor, like a glowing blue line stretched between them. The enemies would be electrocuted the moment the turn ended.
That meant shields, bows, and wands would all be dropped.
[Action Points: ■■■□]
Three action points remaining.
Accounting for the shields dropping, I began sniping them one by one with magic.
"Fireball."
[Action Points: ■■□□]
I deliberately placed the first Fireball toward the puddle.
[It is your turn. Remaining time: 49 seconds]
After waiting for the cooldown—
I adjusted the direction and aimed at the bald man behind the first shield.
[Action Points: ■□□□]
"Fireball."
One Lightning Shock and two Fireballs deployed.
[All action points have been consumed.]
[Ending the turn.]
That lightning couldn't be described with words like "fast."
It wasn't a matter of "I was paying attention but missed it," or "it was too sudden to react."
It was more like, "I didn't know, but it turned out I'd already been struck by lightning." Closer to checking dice that had already been rolled. Like how, in a turn-based game, when the enemy attacks you, by the time your turn starts, you've already been hit.
The enemies didn't even have time to "release" the drawn bowstring.
"Grrrgh!"
Strange groans burst out as veins bulged in their necks.
High-voltage current ran up from their feet and ankles, electrocuting all four men and paralyzing their neuromuscular systems.
Their bodies tilted backward like stiff wooden logs.
Still gripping swords, shields, and wands. Still holding bows with strings drawn.
But electrocution doesn't last long.
Once their bodies splashed into the puddle with a splash, sensation would slowly return. Proof of that—
Fwip!
At last, an arrow was fired free of the bowstring. As the paralysis faded, the muscles relaxed and the string was released.
Clack!
But the arrow, its aim completely ruined, struck the stone ceiling.
And just like the bowstring, goblin shields, swords, and wands all slipped from their slackened grips and clattered to the ground. Toward the now-disarmed enemies—
KABOOM!
Two Fireballs detonated.
One hit the bald man who'd dropped his shield. The other struck the puddle.
From the puddle, suddenly boiled by intense heat, dust-mixed steam erupted explosively.
"Aaagh!"
"What the hell?!"
After that brief instant, screams poured out from beyond the steam.
The tables had completely turned.
"I can't see!"
The enemies had lost their vision due to the steam.
"Scatter!"
Splashing sounds echoed as water flew everywhere.
I couldn't accurately pinpoint their positions in the steam either, but—
"Yer-nil!"
Our party had a sound-mapping archer.
I dropped flat to the ground and shouted to her.
"Shoot!"
Thankfully, Yer-nil didn't hesitate. She understood exactly what she needed to do.
Fwip!
"Gahk!"
In the steam, all characters are afflicted with Blind—but that doesn't apply to someone with the Sound Mapping special ability.
'Even while blinded, Yer-nil retains her attack range.'
That's why I devised this plan.
"Shoot them all!"
My magic's cooldown is five seconds. Since the hourglass had ended, I had to wait for the cooldown in real time.
The steam wouldn't last more than five seconds. It was already starting to settle.
Before it cleared, Yer-nil needed to take down at least one.
If my Fireball had successfully burned the bald man, then Yer-nil killing one would make it a two-on-two situation.
Even then, it wasn't exactly a hopeful scenario.
–Fwip!
Because I'm a mage who invested only in Wisdom, and Yer-nil is an archer weak in close combat.
Meanwhile, the enemy still had a warrior with a goblin sword. I didn't know his stats, but he was definitely stronger than me. At this distance, once the steam cleared and he closed in, it would be over.
'Now the remaining time is…'
Light was slowly returning to the Fireball wand.
Cooldown remaining—probably about two seconds.
Damn it. I never thought five seconds would feel this long.
Through the steam, I could make out the legs and torso of the bald man, now a corpse. The steam was about to clear.
"Take out the warrior first!"
I shouted to Yer-nil again to prevent the worst-case scenario—but an unexpected answer came back.
"I… I killed them all."
"Huh?"
Wait. Hold on. Yer-nil, didn't you only fire two arrows?
Once the steam settled, I understood what had happened.
Yer-nil's first arrow pierced straight through the enemy archer's throat. The second arrow tore through the shield warrior's carotid artery, flew on, and embedded itself in the mage's neck behind him.
A triple kill with two arrows.
The panic-induced movements and positioning of the warrior and mage after being electrocuted had coincidentally made it possible.
Even in the actual game, there are penetration-hit or ricochet-hit judgments—but still, I never expected this.
Yer-nil, you're… kind of terrifying, you know that?
"Kh—cough!"
The bald man spat out a mouthful of blood.
"So you were still alive."
Now that I looked again, Yer-nil had three kills, and I had zero.
"I must've… blacked out…"
Looks like he'd passed out from shock. Understandable.
Both of his arms were gone.
After dropping his shield, he'd seen the incoming flames and instinctively crossed his arms in an X to block—resulting in both arms being blown away.
So even if no one touched him, he was already on the verge of death. Gasping his final breaths, the bald man stared at me with bloodshot eyes.
"…You… what the hell are you…?"
His body trembled with the chill from blood loss.
"You cast magic… without chanting, don't you…?"
So that's how it looked.
That was probably why he'd stood in the puddle and bluffed earlier.
An arrow could fly while someone was chanting Lightning Shock.
But since he was struck without ever hearing a chant, it must've felt unfair from his perspective.
"And on top of that… three spells… without any delay… at the same time… heh, hehahaha! Cough."
He hacked weakly, then spoke again between ragged breaths.
"The world's so damn… unfair…"
Tears streamed down from the bald man's eyes.
"Some bastard… gets expelled for having no magic talent and becomes a slave… and someone else… cough! has rapid casting and no-chant talent… hack!"
He was saying the same thing Yer-nil had.
"And even… has a woman with him… khhh. Life's fucked…"
His breathing slowed. Strength drained from his eyelids.
"The Magic Academy… bastards… will love this…"
The bald man stopped breathing.
"Caleb…"
Yer-nil suddenly apologized, watching my expression nervously.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I didn't know he was still alive."
"…?"
"I said earlier that I killed them all…"
Ah.
She was apologizing for giving me incorrect information back then?
"It's fine. Just make sure to confirm kills next time."
"Yes…"
As the tension drained away, her shoulders began trembling violently.
"It was my first time… shooting a person…"
"…It was my first time using magic on a person too."
But surprisingly, I was calm.
Was I actually a psychopath?
I wondered, seriously.
If I'd committed murder in the modern world, I would've completely lost it—but this situation, unfolding inside this insane game-like labyrinth, felt…
So unreal that it didn't even shock me?
That kind of feeling.
It was a stark contrast to the first time I'd nearly died to a goblin. Are humans really that self-centered?
Or has my mind been forcibly hardened into that of a veteran soldier in just half a day inside the labyrinth?
Still, even if my emotions felt dull, my nose didn't. The stench was overwhelming—the smell of burning human flesh mixed with the metallic tang of blood.
Without exaggeration, it was the most disgusting smell I'd ever encountered.
We stripped them of everything they had. Four wands, a sack of potatoes, and one large backpack with a sleeping bag attached.
"What's this backpack?"
The Magic Academy never gave slaves things like this. All they issued was one wand and one sack of potatoes.
"Maybe they stole it from another adventurer?"
Yer-nil was probably right.
When we opened the backpack, inside were utensils, a handkerchief, a keychain, a Bible, a small frying pan, a water bottle, one healing potion, a large loaf of bread, chunks of bacon and butter, and a multipurpose knife, rope, and a wallet.
I opened the wallet and pulled out an ID.
[Abison]
– This individual is confirmed to possess F-rank adventurer qualifications.– Labyrinth Guild Master (Seal)
There was a photo of a gaunt human man.
He seemed to be the backpack's original owner.
He probably had a party, then either died while exploring the labyrinth and was looted, or got separated and killed while alone.
Death is common in the labyrinth.
Even S-rank adventurers can die screaming at any moment, without warning.
Back when I played the game, there were countless ridiculous ways to get a game over.
Take the bald man, for example.
He never would've expected to die at the hands of another slave.
From what he said earlier, he seemed to have been a Magic Academy student and fairly knowledgeable about combat.
He must've thought taking out one scrawny human and one elf would be easy.
If this were a game, what would I have done?
The moment the bald man stepped into the puddle, his defeat was practically sealed. Would I have avoided entering the puddle and cleared it from outside first?
Would I have considered the possibility that a two-person slave party I was chasing had a mage lying in ambush, suddenly popping out to cast no-chant Lightning Shock, forcing my allies to drop their shields, then chaining Fireballs to trap us in steam and directing a sound-mapping elf archer to pick us off?
No way.
I'd have gone in for the sake of speed.
I could've ended up exactly like the bald man.
If our positions had been reversed.
Damn it. Suddenly, it feels like the survival difficulty just spiked.
I was forced to realize again that the only reason I'm still alive is sheer luck.
Luck tied to this irregular trait—the hourglass.
That's not my style.
Every battle should be certain and perfect. Every strategy should be meticulously constructed. My life is on the line, after all.
If I fail at that, I end up like the bald man.
Get it together. Focus more. Think more.
I put Abison's ID back into the backpack.
Whether he died and was looted, or got separated and killed, either way, he was probably emitting the same disgusting, rancid stench by now.
I prayed that we wouldn't encounter his corpse.
And with that prayer, we moved forward.