Retire 423

423 Ashes’ Vermin (3)

Do not grow complacent.

Words left by a certain human—perhaps once a guardian of humanity—for their past self.

He was someone who, for all his legendary reputation, often spoke nonsense and played more than his share of pranks, but experience never lied.

His advice—if it could be called advice—was universal.

Well, it was the sort of thing anyone could easily say, and no one could deny its truth.

Unfortunately, it applied just as well to those who were not human.

The fairy who had returned to the past must have been confident in its own power. That’s why, just as it controlled the butterflies, it tried to control its past self—or, what should I call it? Link their minds? Telepathy? Who knows what goes on in a monster’s head.

In any case, it did something of the sort. The way their movements were perfectly synchronized, as if programmed, was proof enough. That was likely why it failed to react immediately to Robinson’s ambush.

It’s a common mistake among monsters that resemble insects. Remember the centipede in the Bangi-dong dungeon? Didn’t it try something similar?

It’s always the problem of being too confident in one’s own abilities.

Maybe just controlling the butterflies would have been effective against a bunch of mediocre hunters, but here, battle-hardened veterans were gathered in force. Add to that a great mage, and information from someone who had faced similar monsters before.

Yes. One must not grow complacent.

Never let your guard down until the very end, and make sure to finish the job.

“Up ahead!”

“I see it!”

The hunters led by Robinson had firmly seized the fairy by the ankle.

Some butterflies still managed to follow us, but their numbers were few.

I didn’t know how the fight between Robinson and Alpha Team was going, but judging by the waves of mana surging from that direction, it was a fierce battle. I’d hoped the fairy Robinson attacked first was the one from the future, but perhaps not.

Still, no signal flare for retreat had gone up.

Their signal system was different from the Administration’s, but even Robinson’s guild had a surprisingly detailed set of signals. In this dungeon, because the butterflies were venomous, we’d agreed to send up a signal if any hunter had to withdraw due to injury.

“……!”

Almost as soon as I thought it, a yellow flare shot up. Someone had been bitten by a butterfly. But the battle continued.

They say words have power. I’d entrusted things to Robinson; no need to think about it further. I was busy enough myself.

At the end of the direction Kim Chaemin had indicated, I could see the dungeon’s core, swirling with mana.

In the end, conquering a dungeon comes down to whether you can destroy the core. Monsters with little intelligence don’t care about the core, but those with some wits will guard it. Even if they don’t understand that the core sustains the dungeon, perhaps they instinctively sense it’s tied to their own life.

If even those who act on instinct do this, what about those cunning enough to lure humans?

The butterfly fairy didn’t have the power to seal the gate like Tati did. Even if it wanted to, the fire would have prevented it.

So it must have chosen to block the path to the core, to keep the hunters from getting anywhere near it.

As we drew near the core, we stopped running.

We needed to destroy the core as quickly as possible, but…

“They couldn’t touch the gate, so they’ve tampered with the core,” Kim Chaemin said, clicking her tongue in open irritation.

I didn’t bother to reply, simply pouring mana into my sword and swinging it.

I hadn’t intended to grow so attached to this sword. I glanced at the spear I’d switched to my left hand. Maybe I shouldn’t call the spear my main weapon anymore? Sorry, Father, but the weapon I use most is my real main. Honestly, the sword is more convenient—easy to use. That’s why I explained it that way to little Yu Ji-eun. Like someone’s advice not to grow complacent, it’s a weapon with broad utility.

…Though not just because of the sword’s special effects.

Of course, those were convenient, so convenient that sometimes I felt the urge to burn everything in sight.

Damn. If I’d known it was this handy, I’d have lent it to others, or at least not asked if it was really okay to set fire to every dungeon I entered like a madman.

Well, this sword would burn anything it didn’t like, people included. Unless he’d prepared himself, even Father wouldn’t grip my sister’s sword. Honestly, I have no idea how you’re supposed to communicate to an inanimate object that you’ll break its precious body if it doesn’t behave.

In the end, I couldn’t wield it either—not until just before my sister died and passed ownership to me.

“Aigoo.”

“Oh dear.”

“This is a pain.”

I waited quietly for the flames to wrap around the core, then frowned and shook my head. The hunters each let out a regretful comment.

You can’t destroy the core with fire. It requires physical force. That’s one reason you can’t clear a dungeon with only mages. There aren’t many mages who can cast spells capable of breaking the core. Kim Chaemin… who knows. Maybe if she stabbed it just right with her vines? More coldly, it’s a matter of magical talent. Even Park Seo-hyun, the witch from the future, managed to break the core with her shadow somehow.

…No, that’s a whole different story.

The reason I bothered to douse the core in fire, knowing it wouldn’t break, was because of the eggs the fairy had left behind.

Honestly, I couldn’t be sure they were eggs. They just looked like eggs. A white membrane. Unlike the butterfly eggs that had hatched at my feet when I clashed with the fairy earlier, these weren’t transparent. The opaque eggs clung to the core like bubbles. If not for the mana around the core and Kim Chaemin’s certainty, I might have doubted that this was the dungeon core…

But of course I knew. The fairy wouldn’t have gone to such trouble for nothing. Anyone could see it was suspicious. If it wasn’t the dungeon core, what else could it be? It had to be the core.

I looked again at the bubbles encasing the core. Eggs? Foam? Whatever they were, the surface was covered in a transparent jelly. It felt like the fairy’s skin.

I didn’t know for sure, but fire didn’t work. Maybe the fairy had learned something from the fire that burned the forest.

“Hmmm.”

The hunters hesitated. So did Kim Chaemin.

“What should we do?” she asked, her brow deeply furrowed.

I looked at her.

“Yes? Why?”

I sometimes forgot that Kim Chaemin didn’t have much experience entering dungeons.

…Actually, it’s less that I forget, and more that I only remember it occasionally.

Her career was impressive. She lacked nothing in learning. But someone—her grandfather, or her father—had kept her from entering dungeons when she was young, despite her prodigious talent.

Kim Chaemin only began working as a mage in earnest after she became an adult. Even then, she was already a great mage. A mage of such value didn’t work with just any hunters. Why else would Hong Seok-young have been able to call her to the demonstration school with such vague words?

There weren’t many hunters in Korea who could afford to hire someone of Kim Chaemin’s caliber.

I pointed at the core.

“Yes?”

“What do you mean, why? We have to break it.”

“Well, of course, but…”

Let’s see, what was the last dungeon Kim Chaemin entered? Jirisan Dungeon? That wasn’t a real raid. Then? The Siren?

“How did you break the core in the Siren Dungeon?”

“What?”

“Didn’t Mr. Hong break it?”

“That’s right.”

“Exactly. So we have to break it.”

There was no time for a longer conversation.

Another flare went up in the distance. The third now. Jeanne Robinson was holding out well.

So we had to do our part, too.

“But how? Fire doesn’t work.”

“Ha ha, Great Mage.”

One of the hunters laughed, calling out to Kim Chaemin. It was a look not of reverence for a great mage, but of fondness for a young hunter—like when they looked at Eva Robinson.

“You can’t destroy the core with fire anyway.”

“What? Oh.”

Kim Chaemin blushed, belatedly realizing.

“Haven’t been in many dungeons, have you?”

“I—I usually do dungeon breaks…”

“Well, your magic would be more useful for that. Good for minimizing casualties, too.”

I planted my sword in the ground. A few butterflies flew in, but the Glory Banner hunters dispatched them with ease.

Though I’d wavered for a moment, in the end, when it counted, I always chose the spear. I learned that from my father.

“Whatever that fairy is thinking…”

I tapped one of the bubbles with my spear tip. It was soft. Even stabbing it with a sharp spear didn’t burst or tear it. It seemed to absorb not only fire but also impact.

Every time the bubble wobbled, the mana inside sprayed out like mist. An interesting mechanism.

Still, one must not grow complacent.

There is always someone stronger than you in this world.

“If you press hard enough, it’ll break.”

“Well said, Hunter Woo!”

“That’s the spirit!”

Kim Chaemin blinked. I nodded to her.

“I’ll leave it to you.”

“Yes?”

“That thing you did last time, when your little brother came to the school. The mana-dispelling thing.”

“Oh! Yes. Yes, I understand.”

Though flustered, Kim Chaemin quickly collected herself. The mana around her was tinged with her own color. Even in this stench-filled dungeon, freshness bloomed.

Petals rose into the air.

The red petals floated gently, gathering around my spear on the wind.

A dungeon raid with a great mage—so much easier, as I said.

I gave the bubble I’d poked earlier a test swing with my spear. The mana forming the bubble was shredded to pieces. That was enough. Without Kim Chaemin, even I would have struggled. I might have finally had to add another notch to my dog tag.

I gestured for the hunters to step back. The Glory Banner hunters seemed amused as they obeyed. Maybe Jeanne Robinson had told them to check out the skills of “Hong Seok-young’s disciple.”

When they got back to France, I hoped they’d spread the word—especially if it reached Noah Michel’s ears.

I gathered all my strength in my toes. The spear I inherited from my father swirled with my power, Kim Chaemin’s magic, and, as she had pointed out, the mana still saturating the dungeon.

I thrust the spear forward.

Everything resonated.

The air pushed me from behind. Only then did I understand why my sister had so eagerly set dungeons ablaze.

The true value of this item wasn’t simply that it could create fire. Mana. It was mana. It so easily amplified my strength.

The spear pierced through the fairy’s barrier and the core.

Kim Chaemin’s petals reached the core a moment after my strike, shredding all the surrounding mana. With the mana, the petals exploded like fireworks.