Chapter 87

The stone-paved path had deteriorated due to weathering and battles, with stones that had fallen from the walls and ceiling obstructing the way. Worm, avoiding the rubble and choosing his footing, could not avoid the small fragments that were like gravel. The sound of the stones being crushed under his half-length boots echoed. In the hustle and bustle of the surface, no one would have noticed, but in the labyrinth, especially from the fifteenth level onwards, which is considered the beginning of the middle layers, it was different.

If a party was engaged in battle, disassembling monsters, one could detect them through hearing or smell, but generally, it was extremely quiet. This was because explorers thoroughly maintained silence to avoid being discovered by sound. Explorers aimed to avoid being caught off guard and sought to launch preemptive attacks whenever possible. The ability to detect the enemy's movements and swiftly counterattack was crucial.

"You've come again, haven't you?"

The response to the crushed gravel came immediately. A hissing sound of air escaping through a gap. The mouth, lined with sharp teeth, extended a long, reptilian tongue. Despite having the same number of limbs as a human, its form was far from human. Worm grasped the identity of the attacker with just that. A lizardman, a monster with the intelligence to wield weapons and the skill to use them effectively, whose eyes, devoid of emotion, stared at Worm. Gripping the handle lightly, Worm readied his halberd in a welcoming gesture.

Fairly, there was no signal to announce the start of the battle, and it began abruptly. The lizardman vanguard, armed with a worn round shield and a dirty saber, was followed by a spearman and a mace-wielder.

Worm swayed his body to the left and right to prevent his intentions from being read. As the lizardman approached in a straight line, Worm raised his halberd to the upper left and lunged forward. The lizardman tried to defend with the round shield against the halberd coming from above, but the shield, lacking in strength, was crushed.

The halberd blade, which had pierced through to the elbow, shattered the wooden shield and mixed with the blood that spurted out, coloring the air. Despite the injury, the lizardman's eyes, devoid of emotion, continued to fixate on Worm, and its fighting spirit remained undiminished. It even attempted a counterattack with the saber, sweeping it across its left side.

Worm, pulling back the handle and spinning it in his palm, blocked the attack with the hook-like branch blade and slid it along the edge. In doing so, he severed the lizardman's remaining wrist halfway. The lizardman, having lost both hands, opened its jaw to strike with its remaining weapon, its teeth, but Worm, anticipating this, swiftly decapitated it from the lower jaw.

The exchange with the vanguard lizardman ended, and the remaining two lizardmen prepared to attack Worm. He dodged the spears thrust at him once, twice, and evaded the mace aimed at his torso by leaping away.

The spear, trying to catch Worm, was blocked by the body of the lizardman comrade, who had stepped forward, and did not reach its target. The mace-wielding lizardman, to prevent Worm from circling around, struck with a tail as thick as an arm, but Worm, having experienced this in the defensive lines around Dandueg Castle, was prepared.

"Troublesome, swinging that tail and biting."

Worm watched the tail, which would have struck his temple, pass in front of his eyes. The lizardman's movement became even more restricted due to swinging the tail. The lizardman, exposing its back to Worm without realizing it, dropped its head to the ground.

The last lizardman, having lost both the obstacle and its comrade, did not hesitate to engage in combat. Worm responded to the invitation, aligning the spear tips but deflecting the handle with the axe head on the side. In the crossing of the handles, the lizardman's neck, caught between the halberd's tip and branch blade, was severed.

As the head rolled and came to a stop, the labyrinth returned to its silence. Worm surveyed the surroundings, but the only changes were the floor stained with fresh blood and the three lizard bodies laid out.

"The quality of the dull sword is questionable, but it's still iron, isn't it?"

Picking up the dropped saber, Worm noted that its quality was not good, but it could be sharpened or melted down to serve as a weapon. If he had to complain about the lizardman, it would be the lack of a scabbard.

Worm, reaching into his magic bag, shivered at the sensation, which he had never grown accustomed to, and pulled out the intended cloth. He carried extra cloth for various uses. Worm spun the saber and wrapped it in the cloth, tying it and storing it back in the magic bag.

Next, he picked up the mace. The handle was about the length from shoulder to wrist, and the mace head had five protrusions extending radially. While it lacked the destructive power of an onion or spherical shape, it excelled in impact and lightness.

"This one isn't bad at all."

Shouldering the halberd, Worm tested the balance of the mace with his remaining hand. This type of mace, if it could penetrate the abdomen through armor, would cause the victim to vomit stomach acid and oxygen, slowing their actions instantly. It was a familiar sight on the battlefield. If poor-quality swords clashed, the blades would chip and no longer fit in the scabbard.

After testing the mace, Worm wrapped the halberd in cloth. As he began to wrap it, a faint sound of gravel scraping on the ground caught his attention. Worm's reaction was incredibly sharp. He leaped back, turned his body, and saw the blade and long tail of a lamia, a creature with a female upper body and a snake's lower body, in his expanded field of vision.

The lamia, taking advantage of its characteristics, had ambushed Worm, hiding among the rubble and waiting for an opportunity. It abandoned its concealment and let out a metallic screech, like glass being scratched.

The lamia, skillfully attempting to slash Worm's throat with two short swords simultaneously, was met with Worm releasing his halberd. They were already in a grappling range. At this point, any small trick would result in losing control. The mace, swung with a good follow-through, struck the lamia's right wrist before it could complete its swing, effectively breaking it. The sword, now unsupported, flew in an unintended direction. The remaining short sword was aimed horizontally at Worm's neck.

Worm, curling his body and diving into the lamia's embrace, dodged the strike and collided with it without losing momentum. Despite being a muscular woman by human standards, with her center of gravity in her lower body, the lamia's upper body leaned back, creating a small gap.

The lamia's right arm and tail, which had lost function, extended to entangle Worm. He deflected the outstretched arm with a palm strike and slipped past the approaching tail by tilting his body in the opposite direction. The lamia, attempting to counterattack by twisting its upper body, was struck by the mace before it could complete the motion.

The mace, with the majority of its weight in the flanged head, delivered the destruction Worm desired. The flanged head, which had embedded itself between the nose and forehead, shattered the nasal bone and eye sockets, shaking the brain and depriving the lamia of two of its senses. Even among the tenacious monsters, the lamia, with its snake-derived vitality, was momentarily left defenseless.

Unfortunately, Worm, who had survived many battles and lacked a spirit of universal love or animal protection, showed no mercy. The mace, describing an arc, scooped up the lamia's head as it collapsed. The labyrinth was stained with a reddish-brown, viscous liquid and bone fragments, a momentary spectacle that quickly became a new stain on the walls and ceiling.

"Still not bad, huh?"

Worm spun the mace a few times by the wrist and struck the air. Despite the rough handling, it showed no signs of chipping or warping. Worm, who usually favored his halberd and was not prone to infidelity, could not help but admire the mace's simplicity and swift problem-solving ability in the violent labyrinth.

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Pushing open the door to the safe room at the entrance to the twentieth level, the middle layer, Worm entered and was annoyed by the curious gazes of the other party members. Most parties, excluding Worm, were composed of the maximum five members, and even a four-member party was rare. It was understandable that Worm, who continued to explore alone, was seen as a unique individual, but it was not a comfortable feeling.

Especially with fatigue, lack of sleep, and the tension of the exploration weighing on his mind, it would be abnormal to feel generous. Directing a murky gaze at each person, the impromptu evaluation of Worm finally came to an end. Leaning against the wall, Worm sat down. The cold floor and walls cooled his overheated body, welcoming him.

Taking food from his magic bag inside his cloak, he began to eat, hiding it. While his manners were poor, it was a relief that this was not a place where etiquette was strictly enforced. Chewing and swallowing the cheap salted orc meat and the hard, black bread, which was baked to last, he took sips of water in between. Despite exploring for over a day, his heightened nerves did not subside.

Glancing around the room, he saw several parties resting at a distance, some of whom were engaged in information exchanges and conversations, showing a relatively relaxed demeanor. They were fully armored and carried a variety of weapons tailored to different monsters, a far cry from the inferior equipment of the lower levels. If the numbers were complete, it would have resembled a pre-battle formation.

With one knee on the ground and his weapon within reach, Worm repeatedly drifted into a light sleep. While he could not achieve deep sleep, his body rested. It was a habit he had developed during his military service. Fortunately, no one approached him, and several parties came and went.

On the fifth or sixth time, a new group entered the safe room, and the mask in their waist bag began to rattle. Worm, though not particularly happy, had become accustomed to understanding the mask's intentions through its vibrations and sounds.

The mask's unusual interest piqued, Worm opened his heavy eyelids slightly. There were four people. While not uncommon in the labyrinth, the lead adventurer was—putting it nicely—colorful. Putting it bluntly, it was hard on the eyes. The armor had a unique luster from the mithril alloy, and the longsword at his waist was adorned with three colored gems and silver inlay. His hair was a vivid green, and his eyes were red and blue, a rather greedy combination.

If all the party members were like this, Worm could have laughed it off as