Retire 428
by Cristae428 The Mist of Mont Saint-Michel (1)
In Europe, there is a place known as the graveyard of Hunters.
It refers to the region of the Alps that stretches across central Europe.
No one has discovered exactly how dungeons come into being. Even Alex Hoff, who could be called our insider, admitted he didn’t know what criteria determined where dungeons appeared on Earth. All he could say was that dungeons were placed in environments similar to those inside, to make adaptation easier. Whether that was true or not, he couldn’t say.
At any rate, the Alps have a fearsome reputation.
Of course, there are places so remote that dungeon raids become difficult—deserts are a prime example.
But the Alps’ notoriety is of a different kind. Yes, the treacherous terrain is a major obstacle to dungeon conquest. But to be called a “graveyard”… it is because of the sheer, uncanny number of dungeons there.
This is also why mages held such power in Europe.
The effectiveness of Sandra Gamble’s mana detector was not only celebrated in densely populated countries like Korea. If anything, the Alps welcomed the arrival of the mana detector even more.
In Korea, mana detectors were installed at discovered gates to monitor stability. In the Alps, detectors were placed at regular intervals to observe the very occurrence of dungeons. After all, both dungeon breaks and dungeon appearances could be tracked by measuring mana fluctuations.
But that’s a story for much later. Gamble will develop the mana detector a bit earlier this time, but still.
For now, I want to talk about a time long before that—closer to when I was just born in a laboratory in some mountain valley in Korea.
Or rather, it’s the story of an old Hunter from France.
“I spent most of my youth building my career in the Alps. Not just me—most European Hunters did the same,” Nicolas de Funès began, his brow furrowed.
“It was there I first met Great Mage Park.”
The Alps in central Europe span several countries.
Of course, there are borders, and sometimes a single step takes you into another nation.
But such distinctions matter only to humans.
To monsters emerging from gates, borders were meaningless, and those that rampaged along the mountain range were a long-standing headache for all the countries the Alps touched.
The Alps Patrol, jointly operated by these nations, had a long history. It was an honorable duty.
Now, the patrol has been absorbed into the Association of Awakened, but its work remains unchanged. They still roam the rugged Alps, raiding dungeons.
In some future, perhaps a Hunter from Asia will take note of this patrol. Seeing Hunters join forces to systematically conquer and manage dungeons, he might wish his own country had such an organization. And perhaps, in some future, he will make it so—a government department.
But before that future arrived, there was a notorious dungeon in the Alps between France and Switzerland, one that would later be as infamous as Mont Saint-Michel.
“…I think I know which dungeon you mean, but is it related to Mont Saint-Michel?”
“You wanted to know about fairies, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes…”
“It is related to Mont Saint-Michel.”
“I know fairies appeared in the snowy Alps, but…”
“Yes. They were the same species as those I saw inside Mont Saint-Michel.”
……
The dungeon that appeared in the perpetual snows of the Alps was an endless expanse of pristine white.
Because it formed atop a high peak, the gate was visible from nearby cities. A blue dot blinking on the white snow—harder not to notice.
The patrol’s principle was to raid any dungeon as soon as it was discovered.
Naturally, this dungeon was targeted for conquest.
The confident raid party entered the dungeon, but after twenty-nine days, having failed to locate the core, they declared the raid a failure and returned.
And, astonishingly, in those twenty-nine days wandering the snowy wasteland, they never even encountered a monster.
The attempts continued.
But the dungeon, a vast, featureless field of snow without a single tree or landmark, made exploration nearly impossible. Maps were useless. Even finding your bearings was a challenge. There were stars in the sky, but they gave no guidance.
Every method was tried. There was a city overlooking the dungeon. If there were no monsters inside, that would be fortunate, but after nearly a month, they still hadn’t found the dungeon’s end. No one could be certain there were no monsters in such a vast space.
The “snowfield” gained a different kind of infamy.
At last, the Swiss government, at its wits’ end, invited a great mage from Asia.
“That was Great Mage Park Nogyeong.”
“Yes. At the time, I wasn’t officially part of the patrol, but even we received requests for help.”
“It was that notorious.”
“To be honest, back then, I couldn’t understand why everyone was so worked up over a dungeon that was just vast and peaceful.”
“…And now?”
“If we hadn’t raided it then, the whole region would have been wiped out. Geneva, Lyon… even Turin would have been affected. The Alps themselves might have shrunk a bit.”
Great Mage Park Nogyeong’s magic created a lamp that led the way to the dungeon’s core.
It was the magic most needed to conquer the snowfield.
And Park Nogyeong’s demand was simple:
‘No matter what happens inside the dungeon, protect me.’
Nicolas de Funès entered the dungeon as Park Nogyeong’s bodyguard.
“Normally, guiding magic is used to find your way inside a dungeon, right?”
“Well, it is called guiding magic.”
“But this… this was different.”
“Because it led straight to the core?”
“That’s the simple explanation, yes… but it was a very quiet magic.”
Perhaps because of the name of the guild Park Nogyeong ran, his magic was often likened to a lamp.
But what Funès saw was not a mere lamp.
“It was a star.”
“A star?”
“Yes. Like the North Star shining in the night sky…”
A human star shining in a sky that was not of this world.
Dozens of Hunters crossed the snowfield as if entranced by that star. While gazing at it, even the endless expanse of snow felt like a warm cradle. I never knew starlight could be so gentle.
Following the starlight, the Hunters marched for days. No matter how far they walked, the scenery never changed, yet the great mage never wavered. The star continued to shine.
They simply walked, quietly, like pilgrims…
On the ninth day,
They came upon the blue glow of the dungeon core.
“And then it appeared.”
The master of the dungeon.
“Not every dungeon where fairies appear is like this, but in fairy dungeons, there is something you often find. I imagine Hunter Hong—the principal—knows what I mean.”
“Huh? Me?”
“Why so surprised?”
“There was something like that?”
“You don’t know?”
“Well, even though I worked in Europe, I didn’t only hunt fairies… especially in recent years, people mostly asked me to take down the big ones.”
“Ahem. Then it’s possible you wouldn’t know. Not many of the younger ones do, either. It was common in the old days, but now it’s rarely seen. Even Jean said he hadn’t seen it in a long time until Okinawa.”
“In Okinawa too?”
“That’s right…”
At first, I thought it was snow blowing in the wind.
After days marching through snowfields, it wasn’t strange for snow to fall.
But when the snow suddenly thickened enough to obscure vision, and then began to swirl around the dungeon core, I realized.
It wasn’t snow.
“In the snowfield, it was a bit extreme. But most dungeons have trees, right? Trees or grass.”
“Yes, those are the most common.”
“If you look closely at the trees near a gate, you’ll often see a powdery residue on them.”
“Powder?”
“Yes. Why do you think fairies are called fairies?”
“…Because they look human?”
“Most people say it’s because they’re beautiful.”
“I wouldn’t call them beautiful.”
“Every Hunter who’s fought fairies says the same. Ha, I agree. There are many reasons, but ultimately, the reason they’re called fairies is because of their wings.”
“Their wings?”
“The first fairies ever discovered were beautiful, small monsters with wings. They were thought to be similar to pixies, but even more, they matched human aesthetic standards. So, to distinguish them, they were called fairies. And that’s the name that stuck.”
The fairies of the snowfield, appearing amid swirling snow or powder, resembled silkworm moths. White fur. Four golden eyes. Their wings, also covered in white down, were marked with geometric patterns in black.
A grotesque beauty.
Within the snowfield, where time seemed to stand still, battle erupted.
The fight was fierce. But the Hunters’ goal was not to slay the fairies.
“When the core is right in front of you, what do you do?”
“Destroy it.”
“The losses were heavy. But someone succeeded in destroying the core.”
“…Was it you, Mr. Funès?”
“Haha, no. Just protecting the great mage was hard enough for me.”
When the core is destroyed, the dungeon collapses. As if in a final frenzy, the fairies’ attacks grew more intense.
Park Nogyeong used his magic again. This time, the star pointed not to the core, but to the gate.
Whereas they had advanced cautiously, wary of monsters, now their retreat toward the gate was a desperate sprint. Funès even carried the elderly mage on his back.
There was no time to stop. In the open snowfield, there was nowhere to hide. All they could do was run, knowing that to stop was to die.
There were more casualties along the way. But as long as the star shone overhead, there was hope they could make it home…
“…Wasn’t his magic just for finding dungeon cores?”
“That’s what I thought, so after we got out, I asked him.”
“Did he answer?”
“European mages are notorious for being prickly, but he did answer. Made all that running worth it.”
He seemed gruff, but the great mage was not cold to the Hunters who protected him.
‘My magic is light, but its foundation is guiding magic.’
‘Ah… yes. I see…?’
‘I decide the destination. It could be the dungeon core, or the gate, or something else entirely.’
‘Oh…’
‘All I have to do is tweak the settings a bit. It’s not hard. If necessary, I could even guide you to the monster with the most mana in the dungeon.’
‘Ha ha, I’d rather you didn’t.’
‘Hmph. Coward.’
‘I’m not the only one who’d say that, Mage. Everyone would.’
I only realized later that this was the great mage’s idea of a joke. A rather grim joke, at that.
“And then, Mont Saint-Michel.”
“Ah… so this is how it connects.”
“You don’t understand why I told this story, do you?”
“Not exactly, but… you said they were the same species of fairy.”
Funès was contacted to join the Mont Saint-Michel raid a few years after the conquest of the Alpine snowfield.
Using the testimony of Mont Saint-Michel’s survivor, Noah Michel, and the memories of those few who made it out alive, they drew a map of the dungeon.
But the hell that awaited inside…
“It was beautiful.”
Beautiful, and horrific.