Retire 429

429 The Mist of Mont Saint-Michel (2)

As far as is known, the dungeon of Mont Saint-Michel—so-called “the Library,” the world’s longest-unconquered dungeon—consists of five floors.

The topmost floor, where the gate is located, is called the lobby. The gate is, quite literally, the entrance, and the entire dungeon is indoors. Not a cave or anything like that, but an interior space. High ceilings, pillars carved with intricate patterns, unlit chandeliers, and long, straight corridors.

It is said that traces of civilization are rarely found inside dungeons, but Mont Saint-Michel’s Library is the only one to remain so perfectly intact.

There are no entrances or exits other than the gate. No windows. The only opening is a hole in the domed ceiling. Through that hole, all one can see is a sky full of stars. Many Hunters tried to escape through the ceiling’s hole, but all failed. That must be the dungeon’s boundary.

Starlight illuminates the lobby. At the end of a desolate corridor, a staircase leads downward. Descend those stairs and you enter a vast hall whose end cannot be seen.

The floor is spotless, not a speck of dust. Its mirror-like surface is flawless. The black floor sparkles like the stars in the dungeon’s sky, as if scattered with jewel dust.

The hall is silent. The path leading to the next floor is clear, but elsewhere, trees have grown up through the floor in tangled confusion. Some branches reach all the way to the ceiling, but there is not a single green leaf. All the trees are dead.

The trees form paths like fences. The trunks of these dead trees are scarred—cut, slashed, burned…

Because not all the trees were dead from the start.

Among the withered trunks, there were certainly living monsters. According to Noah Michel’s testimony, many civilians caught in the dungeon’s initial emergence became nourishment for the tree monsters.

The first raid party to attempt the Library chose to check each tree on the first basement level. The scars on the trees are the traces of those efforts.

The trees claimed the lives of dozens more Hunters. But they did not devour them all. The Hunters fought back tenaciously and eventually defeated the trees. The first raid party, having suffered too many losses, decided they could go no further and withdrew from the dungeon. It was a wise decision. They would become the raid party with the highest survival rate in Mont Saint-Michel’s history. Twenty percent.

After clearing the first basement, as mapped by the first party, one descends further.

From the second basement, the reason the dungeon is called a library—and what has captivated so many mages—reveals itself: the bookshelves.

Walls lined with shelves. Books packed tight. With every step, a cloud of pale dust rises. No matter how much you try to blow it away with magic or wipe it clean, the dust always returns to its place. Perhaps it is not ordinary dust. Ordinary dust would not devour people.

The dust follows every step, thick as fog. It never leaves its assigned territory, as if each patch has its domain. But that domain covers every inch of the floor. Not just the floor—the shelves, between the books, the air itself—everything is shrouded in dust.

If you stop moving, even for a moment, the dust will consume you. The sight of the misty dust suddenly turning blood-red, then returning to normal, is pure horror.

Noah Michel says:

‘When the dungeon first formed, most people woke up on the third floor. We had to choose whether to go up or down. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t my decision. My parents were mages, and I remember there were other mages and Hunters. They decided. Since there were no windows, they said we must be underground… so we should go up. I remember hearing that.’

The dust on the second floor also filled the third. Those who entered with the dungeon’s creation were not attacked by the dust. The same was true when they climbed up to the second floor.

But after being attacked by the trees on the first floor and returning to the second, the dust began to devour people.

Those who barely survived could do nothing but tremble on the stairs between the first and second floors.

‘Before going up from the third floor, I took a book with me. I didn’t have any particular reason—the spine was just so pretty and shiny that I picked it up. No one told me not to.’

And Noah Michel claims that book taught her magic.

How credible that claim is, I do not know. At the time, Noah Michel was not even ten years old.

Whether true or not, the young Noah Michel emerged from the dungeon as a great mage.

At first, no one believed the words of a child. That changed after the third or fourth raid, when a survivor brought back a single sheet of paper. Bringing out an entire book had failed. All he managed to bring was a single page.

But what was written on that page was undoubtedly magic.

A fragment of some spell.

Noah Michel, who claimed to have learned magic from the library’s books, interpreted the spell on the page. Using that, the mages began to piece together the “language” of the library.

And they attempted magic.

It was just a single page. The effect was minor, but it was still magic. It gathered mana from the surroundings and created a small whirlwind around the caster.

From then on, mages became obsessed with the library. The second and third floors were filled with books. Did every book contain magic?

If they could bring out not just a page, but an entire book… could they become a great mage, like Noah Michel?

Mont Saint-Michel’s library became a graveyard for mages, even more than for Hunters.

If not for the mages’ greed, could the second and third floors have been conquered more quickly?

No. That would not have happened.

No one else would have wanted to conquer those floors as much as the mages.

It took a long time to reach the fourth floor. Many lives were lost. Perhaps everyone vaguely believed that if they just kept descending, they would eventually conquer the dungeon. After all this suffering, surely the core would appear soon… That’s what they thought.

But dungeons do not exist to reward human effort.

More people died on the fourth floor than in all the floors above.

Twenty-five years ago, after the massive raid led by the French government ended in failure, there were no more official attempts.

That final attempt was not without results. They discovered the path down to the fifth floor, and at last, caught a glimpse of the monster believed to be the dungeon’s master.

“Hey, Hong.”

“What?”

“I heard you said you didn’t want to come here.”

“I still don’t.”

“The man who used to come running at the drop of a hat… What’s changed?”

“What do you think?”

Hong Seokyoung scratched his head.

“Try raising kids. You won’t want to leave home, either.”

“Kids?”

“I adopted, remember? Hasn’t word gotten around here yet? It’s been a while.”

Seeing his companion’s wide eyes, Hong Seokyoung gave an awkward smile. With his weapon-free hand, he rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a battered wallet.

“Look. My kids.”

“You really adopted? Not those kids you look after at the school?”

“No, not them. I only officially adopted this little one, but the girl is like a daughter, too. I’ve looked after her since she was this small.”

“The world’s gone mad. Even Hong Seokyoung is raising kids now.”

“Where else will you find a family man like me?”

Laughter and snickers rose from the raid party.

Hong Seokyoung looked around in mock indignation, but the laughter didn’t fade.

He soon gave up and looked around.

“How did the French Hunters even make a map of this place?”

“Took them three months, I heard.”

“Surviving that long is a miracle.”

“They had to make a map if they wanted to get out alive.”

“That’s true.”

Hong Seokyoung checked the map again.

More than ten years had passed, but the dungeon had not changed. That was a relief.

“My kids are waiting, so I have to make it home.”

“In the movies, the guy who says that is always the first to die.”

“Don’t jinx me!”

They exchanged low-voiced jokes, half-whispered.

It wasn’t that they took dungeon raids lightly. On the contrary, it was because they couldn’t afford to that they tried to enjoy even a brief moment of peace.

Hong Seokyoung stared at the wall, covered in lines of an unknown script. The wall. Walls everywhere. The chilling, static silence that pervaded the first three floors was gone. The maze-filled fourth floor was filled with the constant whistling of wind through the labyrinth.

Wheee. Whee, wheeeee…

A sound that set nerves on edge.

The French Hunters had wandered this maze for three months, mapping it out.

There could be traps, monsters could leap out at any moment. The party couldn’t afford to split up. They advanced with almost ridiculous caution. Had I been in their place, I would have done the same. There’s nothing wrong with being careful.

The fourth floor was vast. Each floor grew larger as you descended, but this was beyond anything one could imagine. Without the map the French Hunters had made, we would have given up long ago.

Of course, not every part of the maze was explored. But the French Hunters did eventually find the stairs to the fifth floor. That’s what matters.

Though most of them died before they could descend those stairs.

“Fifth floor must be the last, right?”

“Hm?”

“They say there’s a humanoid monster. If that thing’s just a mid-boss…”

“Don’t jinx it!”

“I’m just considering all possibilities.”

“Don’t even say such things…”

Hong Seokyoung scolded his companion, face twisted in a grimace.

The maze went on.

‘What kind of place is Mont Saint-Michel, you ask?’

A pale face, hair dyed gray.

She looked much the same as when we first met—still youthful, still beautiful. Who could guess what lay beneath that shell?

‘It’s been a long time since I entered.’

‘What excuse does Noah Michel use to get in there, anyway?’

‘Excuse? She just sneaks in. If she gets caught, she says her parents died on the first floor and she wants to pay her respects. She’s gotten sly. If the beloved daughter of the sun says that and sheds a tear, who’s going to stop her?’

‘Hmm…’

‘Noah’s magic isn’t really human magic… She comes and goes from Mont Saint-Michel as if it’s her own home. Would anything there even attack her?’

‘And you?’

‘Me? I just travel everywhere, so I went straight down. But still…’

Hoff wiggled his foot.

‘I really… don’t want to go in.’

‘Because you’ll die if you get caught doing this?’

‘That too, but… the air is so suffocating. Feels like everything’s stopped. It’s not entirely wrong.’

Hoff stopped his foot.

‘Be careful in there. Never, ever let your guard down. If you die pointlessly in there, what will our Sandra do?’

‘Who’s going to die? Don’t jinx it.’

‘Ugh, if I’d known, I’d have checked every corner when I went in.’

‘Nothing beats walking on two feet, if you’re human.’

‘Anyway, don’t die!’

He tells me not to die, but what if he’s the one who ends up dead?

Hong Seokyoung blinked.

At last, the endless maze was over. Stairs came into view.