Retire 432
by Cristae432 The Mist of Mont Saint-Michel (5)
The past of Nicolas de Funès.
Mont Saint-Michel Dungeon, also known as “the Library.”
Fifth floor.
No one knows how many died.
No one knows how many survived.
All you can do is run through the darkness, not even knowing what you’re doing—like a moth drawn to a flame.
His breath caught at his chin. It felt as if his heart would burst from his throat. Since his Awakening, since he could proudly call himself a Hunter, he had never been this afraid.
Yes. Afraid.
He was terrified.
Like a child, waking from a nightmare in the middle of the night, crying out for his mother.
That kind of primal fear.
Aaaaaaah!!!
A scream echoed from afar.
A familiar voice. Just hours before, they had been exchanging jokes in the maze on the fourth floor.
Would it have been easier if it had been someone he wasn’t close to?
But in a dungeon like this, there were no strangers. These were all Hunters who had worked in France for over twenty years. Some were former Alps Patrol comrades, some from the same guild. Even if not, in a small country, Hunters always ended up working together. That was the nature of the job.
Faces he knew flashed before his eyes, heart pounding. He ignored the screams. With his back to those pleading voices, he pressed on into the darkness.
He had survived as a Hunter for many years.
He would never say it was easy. On the contrary, he had seen all manner of hells.
But why are Awakened who enter dungeons called Hunters?
Because they hunt.
In the limited hunting ground of a dungeon, they search for the core as if on a treasure hunt, and hunt the monsters guarding the treasure.
In the end, the structure is such that the Hunter must win.
But here, in the dungeon on this small island where a grand abbey once stood, the hunter became the hunted.
He didn’t even know what had struck them.
The last thing Funès saw before falling into darkness was a friend whose joints suddenly twisted in unnatural directions, convulsing.
Like a child’s rag doll, the body twisted grotesquely. It didn’t last long—just a few seconds at most. When the limp body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, no one spoke. Instinctively, they knew the body before them was a corpse.
…Was it, really?
Was it a corpse?
It was certainly struck by a monster, but what kind, no one could say.
“Could it be some kind of mental trap?” a mage ventured, approaching cautiously.
“I’ll separate it for now. Everyone, don’t move carelessly—”
The mage never finished.
The corpse suddenly sprang up and stabbed the mage in the stomach.
The dead Hunter’s eyes glowed an eerie gold. The twisted body flopped limply. Fingers bent at odd angles clutched the mage’s belly, then strangled his neck.
He couldn’t understand what he was seeing, but his body reacted first. Funès, one of the closest, reflexively moved to strike with his weapon.
Thud.
The mage’s head fell to the floor.
Blood-tears streamed from the dead Hunter’s golden eyes.
A face streaked with tears and blood, a monster in human form.
As the creature twisted its head to seek its next target—
“Damn it!”
Jean Robinson from Marseille gritted his teeth and cut off the Hunter’s head.
After that, it was a nightmare.
There was no time to think about comrades caught in the dungeon’s trap. Before they could even process what was happening, another victim appeared.
“This is no good. We have to go back. If we stay, we’ll all die without even knowing how!”
Five died in an instant, before anyone could react.
In the chaos, Funès realized something horrifying.
“Aaaagh!”
“Another one!”
The bodies of comrades who had gone mad were gradually becoming more intact…
At first, every joint was twisted. The next time, only the neck was unharmed. The third time, the arms and knees survived. The fourth, only the fingers were twisted.
Whatever it was, this couldn’t go on. If they stayed, they’d just be puppets for an unseen monster.
But unfortunately, it was already too late.
The stairs back to the fourth floor were blocked. A mage whose body had been taken over turned himself into a bomb and exploded. No matter how skilled, no Hunter could pass through those flames. Even if they did, the exit wasn’t right there—the cursed maze still awaited. Even with a map, it would take days to get out.
The self-immolated mage died, and another victim fell.
In the end, the raid party was driven down to the fifth floor, not up to the fourth. In the process, they were scattered. They had become prey.
…!
“Shh!”
Funès flinched at the hand covering his mouth.
He hadn’t attacked the presence behind him because it was someone familiar. Not that you could ever feel safe in this dungeon, but being crowded together brought a strange kind of comfort.
Jean Robinson gestured for silence and removed his hand.
Seeing a familiar face helped Funès regain some composure. As he calmed, he noticed what he’d missed before.
The fifth floor wasn’t pitch black.
Faintly, the floor glowed. More precisely, the dust scattered across the floor glimmered with light. At least enough to see the hands and faces of those nearby.
He’d seen something like this before. Funès nudged the dust with his toe. Too coarse, too heavy for dust. More like powder. Something that had fallen from somewhere…
…Scales from a fairy’s wing.
Jean Robinson gestured silently.
Let’s go.
He didn’t say where.
But Funès said nothing and began walking through the dungeon with Jean Robinson.
If they could find a path back to the fourth floor, they might survive. If not, maybe they could find the dungeon core. In the end, no matter what monster lived here, if they could break the core, they could win…
He didn’t know how long they wandered, relying on the faint glow of the scales.
Screams still echoed intermittently in the distance. They used those cries to guess that some comrades were still alive. These were all skilled Hunters; they wouldn’t die easily.
They started as two, but sometimes met up with other comrades who were also creeping through the dungeon. No one spoke. They couldn’t even tell which way they were going. The core. If only they could break the core. That was all anyone could think about.
And then they saw it.
The monster inhabiting the fifth floor.
A snow-white fairy.
Beautiful and grotesque, a cursed butterfly.
<$($(&&$#$!=>
A voice, lilting as if singing. The tone didn’t change much, like an old hymn sung by a choir.
Echoing through the darkness, the voice felt almost sacred in a way.
But there was nothing sacred about the sight of it plucking the eyes from a Hunter’s corpse.
The wings, patterned with geometric designs, did not move. Yet the fairy floated in midair.
The fairy rolled what looked like a golden eyeball between its fingers and gazed at the group of Hunters.
The words were awkwardly pronounced.
But they were human words.
The fairy’s face moved, as if mimicking human emotion.
<Weak, so weak>
<You can’t even endure this>
<@&~$#!%and burst apart>
The fairy smiled faintly.
<Still, now I know how much strength you can withstand…>
<I think I un der stand@^@^$())->
<As long as I don’t make a mistake>
<Ah, though you’re useless>
<For passing this endless time, at least>
<#$!~!#you might be suitable>
Mixed in were words that couldn’t be understood.
Even without that, Funès wouldn’t have grasped what the fairy was saying. All he remembered was that another comrade fell victim.
The fairy’s unmoving wings began to slowly flutter. The tattoos covering its arms glowed gold.
And in response, one comrade’s eyes began to shine the same golden color.
“Aaaaaaah!”
<Don’t bother resisting>
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
<Human minds really are fragile. This one’s no use>
“Aaah… ah, ugh, aaah…”
<Can’t even resonate>
The fairy muttered in disappointment. All the while, the comrade drooled and swung his weapon wildly.
Funès gritted his teeth and fled. Again, everyone scattered. The fairy dragged humans around as if they were nothing but puppets.
The hunt had begun.
“I lost my leg there, too.”
Funès stroked his prosthetic limb.
“If it weren’t for Jean, I’d have died in there. We managed to find the way back to the fourth floor, but… even with the map, it took us two weeks to get out of that maze.”
He hadn’t even realized how long they’d been running. It was lucky they’d all made copies of the map and shared them.
Robinson managed to get Funès, who’d lost a leg, out of the dungeon. Some people made it to the gate before them. Survivors trickled out over the course of a month, and after three months with no one else emerging, the Mont Saint-Michel raid was officially declared over. It was a disastrous failure. For the next twenty-five years, France left Mont Saint-Michel alone.
“That’s why you missed Great Mage Park’s magic.”
Funès gave a bitter smile.
“If we’d had that magic while wandering the fifth floor, at least we could have tried to find the core.”
“Do you think you could have destroyed it if you’d found it? With that fairy…”
“It seemed unfamiliar with humans.”
Funès glanced between me and Hong Seokyoung, who was listening quietly, before continuing.
“You want to go into Mont Saint-Michel, don’t you?”
“What? No, it’s not like that.”
“You think I’ve never seen a Hunter like you?”
“It’s not that…”
“Maybe not now, but you want to go in someday, don’t you? I’m not blaming you.”
……
I had nothing to say, so I kept my mouth shut. Just because I didn’t want to go in didn’t mean I never would. Who knew what might happen in the future.
My father’s warning came to mind. Don’t even think about entering Mont Saint-Michel, Heejae. But inside Mont Saint-Michel…
“I might have a better chance than this kid.”
Hong Seokyoung interjected. Funès’s eyes widened, then he nodded.
“If it’s you, Hunter Hong… But.”
“But?”
“…I didn’t write this in the report because I only realized it much later.”
When Hong Seokyoung spoke, Funès looked much more at ease. I understood, but it stung my pride a little.
“That fairy was gradually becoming accustomed to Awakened.”
“Accustomed?”
“At first, it couldn’t control people so precisely.”
……
“The last person to make it out said it was even speaking while controlling them. It wasn’t natural, but it was still speech.”
There was a fear on Funès’s face that he couldn’t hide.
“Many Hunters never made it out. The last survivor said there were still plenty of living people when he escaped. I don’t even want to imagine what that fairy did with them.”
Hong Seokyoung frowned.
“We were hunted so one-sidedly back then—who knows what kind of monster it’s become now.”