Chapter 31 - Chapter 3-Battle Of The Labyrinth-Part 2

In one of the deepest rooms of the labyrinth, there exists a secret conference room not even Rimuru knows about.

Gathered within its vast confines were the rulers of the maze, people who usually didn't come together very much. The fact that they were all here right now indicated just how vital they considered the topic of discussion.

...…

...

…

The meeting was chaired by Beretta, Ramiris's aide/representative/gofer and general manager of labyrinth affairs. Seated in the four cardinal directions were the labyrinth's four Arch Dragons—the Fire Dragon Lord, Frost Dragon Lord, Wind Dragon Lord, and Earth Dragon Lord. In the middle was a round ebony table, currently seating the following individuals:

• "Nine-Head" Kumara, guardian of Floor 90

• "Insect Kaiser" Zegion, guardian of Floor 80

• "Insect Queen" Apito, boss of Floor 79

• "Immortal King" Adalmann, guardian of Floor 70

• "Death Paladin" Alberto, Adalmann's advance guard on Floor 70

These comprised the so-called Ten Dungeon Marvels, and they were joined by three others: Gadora, the old, sharp-eyed wizard, was seated next to Adalmann; meanwhile, Bovix and Equix, co-guardians of Floor 50, sat huddled at one lonely corner of the table, aware of just how much they stood out among all these titans. They both once thought they could beat any opponent who came their way… But now, seeing the very pinnacle of the labyrinth before them, they realized just how stark the difference was.

It made them squirm uncomfortably in their seats, but that wasn't the only reason they were cowering a bit. The real reason: Everyone in this chamber had a bad habit of incessantly squabbling over who was the strongest among themselves. They were clashing over the issue now, in fact, weighing down the very atmosphere as if it were warped apart by some strange force. Gadora, despite being the new kid on the block, was an active participant in the debate, making Bovix and Equix realize all the more exactly how they stacked up by comparison. As they saw it, some foes were just too insurmountable to ever beat. And given that these were two former rivals who fought each other for a literal century, it showed just how much of a presence Gadora struck around here.

Beretta and the Dragon Lords didn't join in this competition, but they had no motivation to stop it. If that was what they liked doing, then "Fine" was their attitude. And whether they intended to or not, that only spurred the debate over who was strongest among the Ten Marvels.

Adalmann's promotion in floor rank, following direct praise from Rimuru, was still fresh in everyone's minds. It instilled a new enthusiasm in everybody present, all of them believing they were the most useful among the guardians. This was especially true among the Marvels tending the deeper floors, since they frankly didn't see much action during regular Dungeon operations. Any chance they had to strut their stuff, they seized.

Even Gadora, the new guy, was eager to be of service to his old friend Adalmann. If he could make an impression with his performance here, he believed, it'd work wonders to ensure a position for him. Adalmann, meanwhile, wanted to work even harder for his beloved Rimuru than he already had. He wanted to be awarded even higher levels, and on that score, the other guardians were nothing but obstacles—not enemies, no, but definitely in the way. Alberto followed Adalmann's lead with this, but in his mind, he, too, had a desire to improve his fighting performance and make himself a household name. Despite appearances, he was surprisingly ambitious.

Apito and Kumara, the two female Dungeon Marvels, had (to say the least) a strained relationship. Kumara, in particular, guarded Floor 90 and thus almost never received a chance to perform in public. Apito got an opportunity to tangle with the paladins before, and Kumara was intensely jealous of that, leading her to treat this as much more of a battle than it really was. Apito, for that matter, was pretty competitive herself, refusing to back down a single step from her rival. This put them at odds over pretty much anything and everything.

Zegion, meanwhile, acted like he was above the fray, and realistically speaking, he did stand at the pinnacle of the labyrinth, the target of everybody's envy. Whether he asked for it or not, he constantly got dragged into the debate.

Thus, to sum up, things were kind of acrimonious among the most powerful denizens of the labyrinth. But did they truly hate each other, deep down? The answer was no. Their goal, in the end, was to prove they alone were the best, not to try to kick everybody else down. There was a lot of jealousy but a lot of

respect, too. They might have fought a ton, but there wasn't any real hate involved. Every one of them saw each other as diligent rivals, nothing else.

...…

...

…

Despite the crowd sharing this meeting hall, it was surprisingly quiet right then. All eyes were fixed on the main seats in the table, currently unoccupied. They belonged to Veldora, king of the labyrinth, and the great Ramiris, its creator. They had been called to the meeting two hours ago, and while there was much carrying on between the Marvels earlier, they all quieted down once Beretta showed up.

"Sir Veldora and Lady Ramiris will arrive in a few moments. Please remain quiet as we wait for them."

Beretta sat down at his chair.

"Chairman, can I ask you a question?" said Kumara, and Beretta nodded back. "Why are we gathered here today?"

"For the reason you're all imagining, I presume. We need to discuss how we will dispatch the foolish army attempting to invade the labyrinth."

Everyone fell silent. They were all aware of the situation. Nobody told them exactly what this meeting was about, but they had accurately guessed its purpose already. Maybe they had been jockeying with each other for position before, but with the imperial army at the door to the labyrinth, hostility toward the enemy had replaced their competitive spirit. What did it mean to make an enemy out of the labyrinth? They were all of a single heart now—they needed to make their foe fully understand the answer.

A heavy tension filled the hall. And then:

"Heya! Sorry for the wait!"

"How nice of you all to gather here!"

Ramiris and Veldora appeared, upping the fervor in the hall that much more. It delighted Ramiris even further as she addressed the crowd in an unusually

serious tone of voice.

"Today we're facing an unprecedented crisis—a kind that hasn't been seen since the labyrinth's foundation! So I wanna hear some of your thoughts, people!"

That was the signal for things to begin.

Kumara reacted first.

"Hmm? Well, isn't it obvious?"

She could barely wait to express her thoughts, but Apito beat her to the punch.

"We kill them all."

The two glared at each other.

"So are you going to leave things for my level this time, Apito? You got to play with those paladins for so long, you have to be happy by now."

"What are you talking about? Lady Hinata is one thing, but the Crusaders were all so weak that I had one of the most boring times of my life!"

A different kind of tension ran through the hall. Veldora, oddly, stepped up to defuse it.

"Kwah-ha-ha-ha! Stop fighting, you two. And worry not! This time, I will give you all a chance to wage battle. From what I've heard, they think that the deepest level of the Dungeon is merely Floor 60. Considering we've advertised a hundred floors from the beginning, I find it simply absurd, but here we are. Can you believe that?"

No! everyone thought.

Veldora gave them a nod. "I thought it would be fun to play along with those expectations… But really, it seems too much trouble to me."

"Yes! Exactly!" Ramiris agreed. "Like my master said, it's too much trouble to wait for them to get past Floor 50—not just for us, but for our foes, too."

"Indeed. There are currently seven hundred thousand soldiers jamming the area around the gate. I've been instructed by Rimuru to lure as many of them as

possible into the labyrinth…"

"But making such a huge crowd navigate that entryway is gonna take forever, won't it? Honestly, you have to wonder why they brought so many folks along! So instead of that, we decided to divide up the enemy, one thousand soldiers per floor, and then repeat as necessary!"

Luckily for Ramiris, the Empire's soldiers were marching in neat, well disciplined rows. This allowed for smooth entry into the labyrinth so far, but this was clearly going to take a lot of time. If the first few rows got in a fight, it'd interrupt the entire flow, and then there'd be no telling how long it would take to cram everybody in.

"How does that sound to you? And if you get a lucky draw, you might even wind up facing a real strong opponent or two!"

"Kwah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Who knows, indeed? One of them might be the grave threat to Rimuru that Benimaru has been searching for! I think he's far too worried about that for his own good, but if you can find the man, that'll be a feather in your cap."

Ramiris and Veldora made all eyes in the room sparkle. To the labyrinth guardians, the Big Four serving Rimuru were the targets of intense admiration. Benimaru, in particular, was Rimuru's closest friend and most trusted confidant; everyone wanted a chance to fight him someday. Veldora might have said No, no, I am his stoutest of allies if anyone brought up Benimaru's name, but they didn't, so things continued smoothly.

"So…we all have a chance, then?"

"Well, if that's the case, I have no complaints at all."

Apito and Kumara immediately seemed to patch things up with each other. They weren't alone—everyone else was driven by similar motivation and ambition.

"All right," intoned Adalmann, "does that mean we can do whatever we please with whoever enters our territory?"

"Exactly!" replied Ramiris.

Now everyone was treating this more seriously.

"They're still filing in right now," she continued, "but I'm just gonna connect them straight to Floor 41 for starters. Once a thousand make it in, I'll move on to the next floor down, so be patient! Bovix and Equix, I've got another job for you two, so I'll brief you on that later."

Jealous glances shot toward the pair at once, making them tremble with anxiety. Now they were huddled down closer than before, trying their best to get through this social awkwardness. It'd be far better, they both agreed, if they could just fight those foolish invaders instead of facing up to this.

But Ramiris paid them no mind.

"So the idea here is to spread all these troops out and take 'em in at each floor. We're talking one hundred thousand people total from Floors 41 to 50; one hundred thousand from Floors 51 to 60; one hundred thousand from Floors 61 to 70; one hundred thousand from Floors 71 to 80; and one hundred thousand from Floors 81 to 90. Then maybe, like, we can have each Dragon Lord tackle ten thousand at once? And if we get any more comin' in after that, I can stash 'em in the higher floors, too!"

Thus the labyrinth would house a maximum target of five hundred forty thousand invaders at once. Ramiris wanted this number to be at least three hundred fifty thousand, if possible.

Last, but not least:

"Now, the one thing I don't want you guys to forget is that these are one-time rule changes to the labyrinth. Each Dragon Lord chamber has been expanded to ten times its initial size, and I've switched the floors around as well, so if they make it past Floor 90, they'll be plunging right into those Dragon Rooms. But that's not really important. What is important is that I've changed the conditions for 'beating' this labyrinth!"

Ramiris did a little dance in the air to accentuate her point.

What kind of conditions were these? Well, for starters, once you went through the main gate at the surface, you couldn't go back out until you beat the labyrinth. Beating it, in this case, was defined as defeating Veldora, so the

Empire would have to deploy pretty much everything they had to stand a chance.

In order to gain the opportunity to face Veldora, however, a would-be invader would need to collect ten keys, passed out to each of the Ten Dungeon Marvels. If you wound up starting on Floor 80, you'd have to backtrack to earlier floors to defeat the requisite Marvels.

The moment they heard this, the Marvels immediately perked up. Even the Dragon Lords situated behind the table rumbled their approval.

"In that case, we really do all have an equal chance."

"You're right. It's a race to see how many we can hunt down!" Many among them were already out for blood.

"Heh… Hopefully I can find someone worthy enough to lift my sword up against."

"Don't be cocky yet, Alberto. All we must think about is laying waste to our divine enemies."

Master and servant were brimming with spirit. But others among them were meditating in silence over this. In their own way, everybody in the chamber was in high spirits for the upcoming battle. Gauging them, Beretta—the overseer of the Marvels, more or less—spoke up.

"So, Lady Ramiris, regarding the matter I asked for your assistance with…"

"Ah, right, right. Yeah, Rimuru gave it the go-ahead, so let's see how things unfold with it, okay?"

"Thank you very much. In that case…"

After that quick exchange, Beretta stood up and surveyed the Ten Dungeon Marvels.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Lady Ramiris has assigned me the title of Dungeon Master. I would normally share this title alongside my duties as chairperson of the Ten Dungeon Marvels, but…"

Beretta saw that overseer job as a bunch of garbage dead-end work and little

else. Ramiris thought having ten Marvels sounded better than nine, so he got tossed in to fill up the ranks. The job, as one would expect from Ramiris's birdbrained ways, changed from day to day. Sometimes it was little more than being Ramiris's gofer, which—to put it bluntly—was not his cup of tea.

Treyni, despite having roughly the same position, seemed far more valued by Ramiris than he ever was. A lot of that was because Treyni never lectured Ramiris about anything… And Beretta couldn't see what was fair about that, either. Besides, Treyni pretty much did whatever she pleased, too, jetting off on these mystery trips out of nowhere (although gaining Ramiris's advance permission for them).

It was a real problem for Beretta, who secretly grumbled over it quite a bit. Regardless, he was still named one of the Ten Dungeon Marvels, whether he liked it or not. He really wanted to give that position over to someone else… And now the perfect opportunity had arisen.

"…I think I would like give my position to whoever puts in the best performance in this battle."

The Marvels had to resist the urge to whoop for joy. Even Bovix and Equix were filled with ambitions not quite in line with their talents, hoping against hope that they could join the Ten Marvels. Unfortunately, their ambitions were shattered by the next thing Beretta said.

"For this current battle, I will provisionally grant Sir Gadora my position in the Ten Dungeon Marvels. Given Adalmann's attesting of his powers, as well as his own knowledge, both Lady Ramiris and I have no qualms about this appointment."

Gadora, facing this sudden announcement, was surprised but calm. Given how long he had lived, he was used to situations like these.

Yessss! This is my time to shine! And if I put in an eye-catching effort, I won't be "provisional" for very long at all!!

Gadora had always been an aggressive man. He had to be, or else he couldn't hone the right-place-at-the-right-time knack he used to navigate the world for so many years. And Gadora knew his place, too. His steely eyes told him just how powerful the Ten Marvels were. Some were lower or equal to him, while

others were so far above him that even making a comparison was ridiculous. He'd never be appointed overseer of the Marvels if he let those titans be— something he understood well enough—and so his goal was merely to gain membership to start.

"I will humbly accept your offer!"

"You will? Thank you, Sir Gadora. It helps me a great deal."

Gadora and Beretta had a real you-scratch-my-back, I'll-scratch-yours moment. And while still temporary for now, that was the last change made in the lineup before the Empire war. Beretta was out of the Ten Dungeon Marvels, and Gadora was in.

"Oh, yes! I'm just as glad you're taking the offer, Gadora. I'll be assigning you to Floor 60, with the Demon Colossus boss, and I hope you'll make good use of that one!"

Everything wrapped up without a hitch. They had already discussed all this with Rimuru, and they had decided to put Gadora to the test on a trial basis. Gadora had already been helping with Ramiris's research and so forth, so he didn't need much convincing to accept the job. In fact, to him, being entrusted with the demon lord's Demon Colossus was a real dream.

"Great! In that case, shouldn't we give Gadora some kind of nickname, too?" "Oooh yeah. Any ideas, Gadora?"

Being asked this out of the blue, Gadora had nothing to offer. "Well, let's see…"

Is this really important? he couldn't help but think. The Empire was already invading labyrinth space. They really needed to take up defensive positions ASAP, something everyone must've been thinking (if not saying out loud). But the big bosses didn't seem too concerned about time and were treating this like just another chat.

Heavens… My hat goes off to them. Emperor Ludora is a great man, too, but I fear he's no match for this group. But given the labyrinth we're in and the Storm Dragon we're with, I suppose it's only to be expected…

Gadora was truly impressed. He was never one for loyalty, but seeing Veldora and Ramiris—and most of all Rimuru, so adept at manipulating those two—he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.

"How about the Rune Master, then?"

"Ooh, how catchy!" Ramiris gushed.

"Yes, is it not? When push comes to shove, I always have the right answer! Kwaaah-ha-ha-ha!!"

There was no possible way Gadora could object.

It seemed like everyone had their orders, but Ramiris still had one thing to announce.

"Oh, oh, right! I had a real important role for Bovix and Equix!"

The two of them almost leaped out of their chairs, still nervous about what they'd be asked for.

"Wh-what role is that?"

"What would you like us to do?"

Their nervous questions were greeted with a matter-of-fact reply.

"So I'm gonna have you two stand by on Floor 30. You can use the bosses there however you like, so if you see any invaders trying to escape, wipe 'em out for me, all right? I set the resurrection point for your bracelets at Floor 30, too, so even if you get killed somehow, no worries! Do your best up there!"

By the sound of things, Ramiris assumed this would be easy work for them. All they could do was nod their agreement. They were motivated, yes, but more than that, they were anxious. If they didn't deliver at a time like this, they feared being abandoned for good. If they put in a half-hearted effort, they could be fired from this most prestigious of positions. They exchanged firm nods, promising they wouldn't let that happen.

The boss of Floor 30 was an ogre lord, ranked a B-plus, along with his five minions. Following orders from the A-ranked Bovix and Equix, they were all bound to become a great team. Gadora, despite being so new, had readily accepted his appointment into the Ten Dungeon Marvels. Given they had been

part of the labyrinth far longer than him, they couldn't afford to embarrass themselves here.

That, and the two of them realized something else. Even if part of the imperial force did make it past Floor 30, there was still no escape for them. That held even if they climbed all the way back to Floor 1. They'd just have to turn back, and along those lines, Bovix and Equix's assignment was extremely low stakes, come to think of it. And they both also realized that losing to those soldiers meant getting killed however many times it happened—an unpleasant experience.

"Well, let's do it. We're guardians, too. And if we can earn some recognition for our exploits, we're bound to get a promotion!"

"Yes, you're right, my brother. No need to take turns or hold back this time. Let's crush our enemies with everything we've got!"

"We'll crush every single fleeing imperial soldier we find!"

"We will! And I promise we'll live up to your expectations, Lady Ramiris!!"

If their backs were against the wall, the only place to go was forward. Their anxieties instantly vanished, the two of them burning with enthusiasm.

Now everybody had their assigned roles.

"Rimuru has asked us to lure as many imperials into this labyrinth as we possibly can! And if we wanna do that, you're gonna have to show these guys a good time, to some extent! Got it?"

They all nodded, understanding. Everybody saw what their role was—for day one, at least, they'd keep quiet and watch how the enemy moved. Then Ramiris, giving them all a satisfied look, dropped one more bomb on them.

"Good, good. Well, good luck, guys! And by the way, Rimuru said he'll be watching this battle. We'll be deciding who's the next overseer based on this, but it's a good chance for all of you to show off, okay?"

Everyone's faces turned dead serious.

"…Sir Rimuru will be watching?"

Even Zegion, silent until now, felt the need to gravely ask the question. It

really surprised Apito. The Insect Kaiser was a taciturn individual, rarely speaking at all. Apart from his loyalty to the demon lord Rimuru, Zegion was interested in little besides strength.

"Um, y-yes. Rimuru said he'd be observing the whole thing, okay?"

The unanticipated pressure made Ramiris stammer a bit. Not even she had the opportunity to see Zegion talk much. Her surprise was only natural.

"Zegion, there are no lies in Ramiris's words. Rimuru has a great curiosity about the strength of his labyrinthine ranks. That is why he trusted you all enough to give you such a major role in this war."

Veldora, following up for the flummoxed Ramiris, saw Zegion as an excellent student, one he had been training in combat for some time. He was stronger than even Charys, who had been with Veldora for a very long time, and if the conditions were just right, he could fight evenly (or better) with Veldora himself. He was, in essence, too strong. Nobody in the labyrinth except Veldora could handle him—and that's why he was so excited for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"…Ah. Sir Rimuru, watching us… This is so emotional for me. I'll be sure to show him just how much I have grown."

"Hee-hee-hee! Of course! He said he was expecting a lot out of you all, so let's give him a big surprise!"

Ramiris might have been giving them an innocent smile right then, but deep down, she was merciless. Being a self-styled demon lord, she wasn't afraid to abide by "survival of the fittest."

Everyone who enters the labyrinth—including Empire soldiers—is presented with a set of rules. After each person is confirmed to be a willing participant, they are then asked—directly to the instincts in their mind—whether they're okay with never leaving unless they beat the Dungeon. Would they see it as a threat or a warning?

But even if people heard that and thought Oh crap, I'm in trouble, nobody seemed to be turning back. They all filed into the labyrinth like ants to sugar, dreaming of the fortune and glory inside—and at that moment, Ramiris ran out

of mercy. Without reservation, she welcomed all of them as her enemy…and soon, the soldiers of the Empire would discover the true nature of this labyrinth. The fear it caused.

"Let us dedicate this victory to Sir Rimuru," muttered Zegion as he left his seat.

With that signal, everyone was on the move. Visitors would soon start arriving at the hellscape, and they had to wait for them.

Column by orderly column, the soldiers of the imperial army were marching down into the Dungeon, their movements methodical and without fancy frippery. Each had a safety belt around their waist, connected front and back so each column stayed around ten feet away from each other. In addition to these troops, there was a separate designated combat team, not connected by ropes and able to move freely around; when not engaged in a fight, they held on to the main force's lifelines. With enough sheer quantity, no labyrinth was ever going to be a problem. They had prepared everything well in advance, and this entire force wouldn't have any issues getting lost as they marched onward.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Caligulio's mind turned toward all the riches he was set to gain shortly.

This maze is mere child's play. The problem is all the monsters that live inside…

Not their strength, per se, but the time they'd have to spend dealing with them. Their preliminary intelligence indicated the labyrinth ran a total of sixty floors, but they hadn't received confirmation on that yet. At least one rumor pegged the actual number at a hundred, but the other officers had dismissed that as unrealistic—a bluff.

Still, the deeper the floor they reached, the more valuable the treasure they'd be bound to discover—and most importantly, the purer the magic crystals they were likely to find. That alone made this a very attractive offer, but the deeper you went, it seemed, the stronger the local monsters would become. That, Caligulio thought, had the potential to become a big hassle.

Well, once we find out exactly what kinds of monsters we'll encounter down there, we can figure out how to subdue them the right way. That'll make for more efficient hunting, too.

Stroking the beard he was unduly proud of, Caligulio had made his conclusion. Seeing the well-trained soldiers spread before him, their grand majesty a symbol of the Empire's authoritative power, this labyrinth hardly seemed like a threat at all.

They had all undergone training to simulate the style of battle that would likely unfold down there. Practitioners of spirit magic would map out the path ahead, and then the special-ops teams would disarm any traps. The combat team would then dispatch the local monsters, then the cleanup team would scavenge for salvageable materials and magic crystals. The lead member of each column was responsible for overseeing this entire process from start to finish.

Once all the treasure was gathered, it would be sent rearward by the soldiers tied to each other, all the way back to the entrance gate, where the platoons standing by there would take it to the nearby command HQ. Linking soldiers together like this would allow them to quickly handle any unexpected changes

in the process; if something came up, the soldiers were carefully trained to retreat at once in order to report to their superiors.

Caligulio's plan worked extremely well…at first. But then something strange happened in there. After approximately one thousand soldiers went through the gate, all contact was suddenly lost.

"What should we do, sir?"

What happened to the soldiers? It was unclear—but judging by the surgically clean cut on the rope, someone must have been messing with spatial links in there.

We were briefed on that—the labyrinth can change its structure at times. But they said it happened once every twenty-four hours at most…

It troubled Caligulio, but he didn't let the brigade of soldiers stop. For a while longer, he allowed the storming of the labyrinth to continue.

What they later found, after some more observation, was that the labyrinth changed structure with every one thousand people they put in.

…Wait. Not quite.

"I see… It looks like the enemy's welcoming us with open arms." "…? How do you mean, sir?"

"Simple. I'm sure it doesn't suit them much if the labyrinth's crawling with people. The stairs we see there don't lead to the second basement floor but likely to some other floor instead."

"Really?! They can do that…?"

Caligulio gave his surprised staff officer a Well, what do you think, doofus? look and a bit of a snorted chuckle.

"Well, I'm sure they can. This is a demon lord we're fighting, remember? If they can't pull that off on their home turf, they would have been destroyed ages ago."

He had predicted what would occur in the labyrinth with decent accuracy so far. From the soldier chatter before they lost contact, there was no indication

that anything unusual was going on. It didn't seem reasonable to think that something had just happened to them out of nowhere.

"Besides, we lost contact once exactly one thousand people came in. What do you make of that?"

"Hmm… Yes. That's very insightful of you, sir."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Caligulio considered their future plans. Even in these early stages, they had already retrieved a few bits and bobs of treasure —finely made personal accessories, for example, or weapons and armor made of magisteel. It was all top-notch stuff, and what's more, the magic crystals they harvested were similarly high in quality, producing energy with unquestionably high efficiency.

If they halted the invasion now, the fates of the two thousand people in there already would be all but sealed. Best instead to stick with the original plan and keep pushing all their masses of people inside—that was Caligulio's decision.

"They're trying to threaten us—trying to make us give up on conquering this labyrinth so he can buy some more time. Expecting some reinforcements from Dwargon, no doubt."

"Heh. Laughable, isn't it? Because by now, those reinforcements must be…"

"…Exactly. Stopping now is exactly what the enemy wants us to do. Make sure everyone's aware of that!"

"Yes, sir! Continuing with our primary objective to conquer!"

Caligulio was satisfied with this. The enemy tried to trap him, and he was sure he saw through it. And weighing the potential profits from the treasure against the lives of his soldiers, he decided to ignore any lingering uncertainties in his mind.

That moment alone decided the imperial army's fate.

A day had passed since the invasion began. The march had continued day and night, and by now, some three hundred fifty thousand soldiers were in the labyrinth.

Like clockwork, they were being sent to different locations every time a

thousand new soldiers came in. Apparently those soldiers taken to very certain floors were still able to bring at least a part of their bodies back outside the spatial rift, and the kinds of treasure they were still ferrying back was constantly changing. Nearly none of it was low quality, and there were even a few weapons with strange, concave holes inserted into them—some kind of new enemy weapon, perhaps.

There was no better indicator of just how panicked the enemy was right now. They would doubtlessly have retrieved these weapons if they had the time to. If they didn't, it was proof that events had hurried them along involuntarily.

They're all but putting out the welcome mat for us, and now that push has come to shove, they're finding themselves in trouble. So foolish.

Using the labyrinth to attract people from surrounding nations, he thought, was a pretty neat idea. But not being able to handle matters right at this most crucial of moments made the whole thing seem shoddy to him.

So while Caligulio had at first been openly derisive of the demon lord Rimuru and his team, now that a day had passed, he decided to halt the onrush and see how things unfolded. The soldiers around HQ were thus allowed to take breaks in shifts. Really, they could have kept going, but suddenly Caligulio was feeling uneasy.

"It's three hundred fifty thousand troops in there so far, right?" "Yes, sir! Half our army has invaded the labyrinth."

He might have been losing contact with them every thousand troops, but so far Caligulio's predictions were correct—not much later, he got a report that soldiers inside the labyrinth had made contact with the ones who went in first. Now the Empire was gaining momentum. Everyone was on edge about the missing troops, so knowing that their comrades were safe in there came as a relief to everybody on-site. They had been hiding their anxiety before now— getting worked up about every little hitch would make you an embarrassment to the Empire—and the good news energized everyone all the more. They had nothing to fear now, and the speed of the labyrinth incursion was accelerating.

Thanks to all that, now a good half of their entire army was sucked into the Dungeon. But:

"We've put hundreds of thousands in there, but they still haven't fully plumbed the labyrinth…?"

"Not even I thought it was this vast, no."

"Sixty floors… I thought each floor shrank the farther down you went."

"That's what we heard, sir. I think they'll reach the lowest depths before too long, but…"

The plan called for the imperial army to conquer the labyrinth long ago, but things hadn't turned out that way—and the problem was, once they stopped throwing new soldiers inside, that de facto meant they lost contact with everybody already in the labyrinth. Reconnecting with the advance forces in there meant a pretty vast quantity of treasure was coming their way, but that caravan had been halted as well now that the invasion was on hold.

"And not one person who went inside has come out yet?"

"N-no, sir. Apparently the labyrinth must be fully 'beaten' before anyone can get out…"

"Yes, I heard about that. Everyone who went in had a question run through their heads, didn't they?"

"Correct, sir. But while the conditions are clear enough…it seems that before they can slay the king of the labyrinth, they have to defeat the guardians who are defending ten keys…"

"Ah. And we haven't beaten those yet?"

They had an answer. But it wasn't the one Caligulio was looking for. The "king of the labyrinth" was likely to be Rimuru, and if killing him "beat" the labyrinth, that was exactly what the Empire wanted…or should have wanted anyway. Instead, all they had done was stop sending in follow-up troops, thus cutting off contact with everybody inside.

"Do you think a force of three hundred fifty thousand can beat the demon lord?"

The staff officers were at a loss to answer. But it didn't take them long to drum up their previous vigor.

"The blunder the Kingdom of Farmus made, I believe, is that it ran into Veldora. If it's just the demon lord Rimuru alone, we should have enough resources to beat him."

"I agree with him, sir. We have a great number of over-A troops in this initiative. Good news should be coming our way, in time."

His staff, seemingly relieved that they were apparently on the same page as each other, rejoiced loudly over their assured victory. But Caligulio just couldn't shake off his unease.

"All right. First, I want contact made inside the labyrinth. Send in a liaison team and have them try out all our comm methods."

Accepting the order, they went through the checklist of imperial communication protocols they had handy. None of them worked. Magical calls, telepathy; nothing elicited a response.

By this point, the staff officers were having trouble kidding themselves any longer. Their hearts, bursting with visions of all the booty the labyrinth was about to give up, were now down in the doldrums, faced with a suddenly unforeseeable future. Having no contact with the inside was starting to seriously affect their mood—without any idea of the battle situation, they couldn't even adequately perform their jobs.

"In that case, sir, we'll resume the invasion once we reorganize our ground troops."

"Right." Caligulio nodded. No matter how this turned out, they needed to send someone to check on the situation. If they kept them on ground level, there was no way to check on what was happening down below. The large gate remained wide open, showing no signs of closing up; nothing had changed with it since first discovery…and yet the moment people stopped filing through it, nothing at all could be sensed from beyond the entrance archway. Even the steady flow of goods from the inside had cut off—and partly thanks to that, the command HQ was starting to become an uncomfortable place.

Two more days passed.

"Why aren't we receiving any further reports?"

"With every thousand people being taken to a different place, sir, it might be hard for them to find troops who found themselves deep in the labyrinth."

"Are you telling me the labyrinth's that vast?!"

"You don't think…?"

"What?"

"You don't think they've all been defeat—"

"Shut up, fool! Lost your nerve, haven't you, huh?!"

"Calm down. I think this was the demon lord Rimuru's plan all along. He wanted to make us suspicious, paranoid, and force us give up on his labyrinth."

Now, unlike in the early stages, only a thousand troops were allowed to enter each hour, out of an abundance of caution. At that rate, however, it was hard to retrieve any new information at all, to say nothing of treasure. Thus, the first day saw three hundred fifty thousand soldiers march in; the second day saw one hundred fifty thousand more; but on the third day, only thirty thousand were allowed passage. This left the number of imperial forces on the ground at one hundred seventy thousand total.

"Would it be wiser to conserve our numbers at this point?"

"Hmmm… I'd hate to play into the enemy's strategy, but it may be unwise to cut our forces any further, yes."

"We did send supply teams into the labyrinth; that'll extend the operational time frame of our troops. Perhaps we could toe the line and see how things unfold for the next, say, twenty days?"

"Rather a passive approach, don't you think?!"

"Perhaps, but we still haven't made contact with Lieutenant General Gaster or Major General Farraga, either. They might be in the middle of intense combat, or maybe…"

Several intelligence units had gone down as well. None had returned. Trusted friends and dedicated imperials were now completely out of touch.

"It's because the magicule count's too high in here. What other reason would

there be?"

Caligulio was assertive about that, at least. He didn't want to see morale go down any more than it had—but the atmosphere around the place was already very unsettled. There was an indescribably eerie silence throughout, and every person on the scene had long since begun to foster ominous premonitions.

Even their commander, assertive as he was, felt the same way. He still had one hundred seventy thousand soldiers here—but turn that around, and you could say there were only one hundred seventy thousand left.

Perhaps I'm making a terrible mistake…

Now the doubts were coming clear as day into his mind. The towering gate before them seemed incredibly creepy to him now, contributing to his anxieties. And the fates of all those who cared to cross it into the labyrinth? Caligulio would learn about them all very soon.

Labyrinth Floors 41–48

The exact fate of the imperial soldiers who entered the labyrinth varied widely depending on the floor they were dumped into. Those put between Floors 41 and 48 were, by and large, the lucky ones. It housed some pretty tough monsters, but we were still talking in the B-ranked range, nothing for these surgically enhanced soldiers to sweat about.

Things proceeded very quickly with their advance. These were all extremely capable soldiers, ranking at least a C-plus by adventurer standards, and their skills were first-class. A group like that would never panic when faced with monsters.

So the troops kept marching in an orderly line, their affiliated combat team taking protective action a little behind them. Setting up base points at each corner, they made sure every passage was clear before proceeding, following training as their numbers filled up the floor. In less than a day, they had discovered both the ascending and descending stairways.

In this mission, the top priority was to kill the demon lord with the full brunt of their strength. Plundering the treasure on the earlier floors would be left to

other troops or saved until everything else was over. Once the stairs were fully occupied by the combat teams, the invasion continued.

Near the stairs was a room whose door had been sealed shut. A sign reading REST STOP was nailed to it. It was exactly how their intelligence described it, with the exception that the door refused to budge.

"It's not opening, sir. It's likely been disabled."

"Hmm. I'm sure. Can we break it down?"

"Guns and magic did nothing to it, sir. I think it's safe to assume it's as indestructible as the labyrinth corridors themselves!"

The captain nodded at his reporting soldier. This was natural; nothing worth being surprised about. Maybe they could try a magitank gun on it or some kind of large-scale magic, but that could compromise the safety of everybody else in here. A nuclear magic spell would lead to untold casualties. So as originally planned, the captain decided to keep making their way straight down the labyrinth. A human-wave strategy, basically. Not being able to use the rest stop irked him to high heaven, but he accepted it.

"Report up top for me about this. And tell them the invasion's going smoothly."

"Yes, sir!"

Being isolated down there, kept to a force of one thousand, unnerved him at first. But getting downtrodden by this would make him unworthy of being an imperial officer. So the captain decided to continue the attack, and this turned out to be the right answer, for after a while longer, they managed to rendezvous with another team.

This floor was much larger than expected, but thanks to help from an elementalist and a surveyor, they were proceeding at a rapid pace. The magic crystals dropped by the monsters they slew were high quality, and they were finding excellent treasure from the chests they discovered. The people who took the stairs down reported back to say that they were close to completely conquering Floor 42. Cheering could be heard across the halls—the Empire would never be defeated.

On the second day, they completed their search of every chamber on Floor 41 and journeyed onward to Floor 42, joining up with the team they previously made contact with. There, at breakneck speed, they headed for Floor 43—and before day three even began, they were just a few steps away from reaching Floor 48.

It was beyond all expectation…but Floor 49 would be a much different story. Labyrinth Floors 49–50

"Ah, aaahhh, there's something on my neck?!"

"I'm sinking! I—I— My legs are melting…!"

"H-help! Help me! I can't get my hand out!!"

It was pandemonium.

A moment's inattention, and the slimes came. Everywhere, from here to the other side of the floor—tons and tons of slimes. Slimes, slimes, slimes, slimes, slimes. Take a break for a moment, and slimes fell on you from the ceiling. Turn a corner, and slimes would scatter and destroy entire platoons. Slimes on the wall, slimes on the floor. Weapons and armor were laid waste to, soldiers rapidly losing their stamina.

"Dammit! Haven't they made it through yet?!"

"Sir, there's a monster presence across the entire floor, so our magical detection isn't working very well. In addition, it seems to be highly resistant to physical attack, so basic strikes aren't working on them!"

"Yes, and they proliferate at an unbelievable rate! Pain doesn't seem to register with them, so they don't even flinch at our attack!"

A single slime was hardly any concern, but when they were this gigantic, burning one to death suddenly became a massive effort. They were proving much more troublesome than expected. And while they didn't have to retreat yet—thanks to the reinforcements who arrived every few hours—they were losing time fast and failing to post up the results they wanted.

In the end, they didn't have the floor entirely explored until the end of day three. Only when more soldiers from higher floors came down were they able

to human-wave their way over the crest.

Then, on Floor 50, they encountered a literal pile of the wounded. The passage resembled a dark, dank, gloomy cave, the sounds of battle ringing in their ears.

"Dammit!" came an enraged shout from beyond. "Those monsters revived again!"

Ahead of the group, a gigantic snake, like a living embodiment of darkness, had wriggled its way into the passage, growling as it blocked any forward progress. It was a tempest serpent, and the Empire's regular-grade magic and gunfire couldn't even put a dent in its armor-like scales. Even if you wanted to take a sword to the serpent, its Poison Breath had a reach of well over twenty feet, bathing the target in a deadly mist before they'd ever come close enough.

"Bastard! These narrow passages were practically made for these creatures!"

"We could go around it if we had enough space, but there's no way to do that here."

"Can we get a magizooka ready?"

"Negative. We just fired it. It's got two hours left to recharge."

A magizooka was a new type of magical weapon, one of the most powerful types of portable offense the world had seen yet. Unlike spellguns that ran on magic stones, these ran on charged magic, using magicules taken from the atmosphere. The spell tucked inside them was the elemental magic Airbuster, which compressed atmospheric air before firing out in a series of concussive blasts. Easily aimed and not reliant on combustion for its force, it was an ideal piece of magic for inside buildings and other closed spaces—and it packed enough of a punch that just carrying one could earn you an A rank.

The problem with a magizooka, though, was the intense amount of energy it consumed. That's why it was designed to be rechargeable, but even in the magicule-laden atmosphere of the labyrinth, a full recharge took three hours. Usually, that'd be fast enough for most purposes, but here, that still wasn't enough.

"Whoa, are you kidding me? So these monsters are regenerating faster than

we can kill them?!"

The tempest serpent was clearly unique. There was a ring placed around its neck, giving it a presence that set it apart from other monsters. Most important of all, though, no matter how many times you beat it, it'd come back within three hours. In other words, no matter how many times they captured this floor, the battle would start all over again once enough time passed. And worst of all: No part of this floor was safe from the creature.

But that still wasn't all.

"Ah, ahhhhh, there's one over here, too!!"

The sound of warfare began echoing from another passage. No, that was not the only tempest serpent—in fact, they had confirmed the presence of at least ten. A tangled web of serpents, each ranking an A-minus in terms of danger, was dominating an area uniquely built to take full advantage of their characteristics.

It was, simply put, a den of black snakes. Typically, the tempest serpent and its reserves would serve as the boss monster of Floor 40. For this emergency, though, they had all been deployed at the same time on this floor.

In the end, reinforcements from the upper floors came in to give them some better arms to work with. Only then did they have enough magizookas to take on all the tempest serpents at once—and only late into the night of day three did they finally subdue them all.

"Right. We need to stay on this floor and watch for any more potential regenerations. Evacuate the sick and injured to the upper floors."

"Yes, sir!"

So the imperial army took this opportunity to reorganize their forces inside the labyrinth—and with that, they stepped forward into an even greater hell.

Labyrinth Floors 51–60

Floor 51 featured a modern-looking passageway. The Empire had already gained control of this floor by the looks of things, and they could see soldiers at every corner. All the signs of fierce combat strewn about suggested that this

was another hairy floor to tackle.

One of the unit captains tried to make contact with the people on the field.

"What's the situation?" he asked the guard sentry, trying to keep quiet enough not to wake the resting soldiers.

"It's a mess. We really underestimated this demon lord."

"What do you mean?"

"The traps on this floor are awful. The path you see us guarding every corner of is the correct way—don't even try to venture outside of it. I think we've destroyed most of the traps, but there might still be some activated ones out there."

"All right. By the way…"

The captain asked for details he could report to his superior officers. The story he was told involved a large number of chemical weapons, the likes of which not even the Empire made use of. There was a tasteless, odorless gas that damaged the eyes and throat; showers of neurotoxins and corrosive liquids; large, vicious traps that ensnared lots of people at once. The soldiers all thought this sort of thing was the exclusive domain of Empire, and that made it seem all the more threatening.

"From this floor on, you won't find any monsters. Instead, there are these damned magicule-powered golems roaming around. It looks like they're self repairing, too. It took forever to fully dismantle them."

"That sounds real tough."

The captain wanted to talk about how tough he had it, too, but kept silent, urging the sentry to go on.

"Yeah. The injured and exhausted are resting down on Floor 55. Make it there, and you'll be able to eat in safety, at least."

"Thanks. So where's the front line at the moment?"

"The front line? …According to a story I just heard, it's on Floor 60. It sounded like a joke to me, though. If we reported it up top, they're gonna think we lost our minds down here. It's crazy, but do you still wanna hear it?"

The captain had to nod at the sighing soldier. "Yes, please."

"You're sure? Well, okay, then. Supposedly, on Floor 60, there's this giant humanoid weapon ruling over the place! And as for its strength…"

The more he heard, the sillier it sounded. That was how sublimely grand it was. Even an entire army of A-ranked warriors, apparently, couldn't find a glimmer of hope against the guy. Its entire body was made of magisteel, making it impervious to swords and guns, and it had a permanent barrier as well, so not even magizookas worked on it. They had exhausted all options, and that was the latest the guard knew of.

"Also, apparently this giant golem talks, and get this—it sounds exactly like old Lord Gadora. It's totally unbelievable—and I'm supposed to report this? This is way above my pay grade…"

Despite the guard's valid complaints, the captain still felt obliged to report to his commanding officers and ask for their judgment.

"We'll have to go in. I'll have us aim for Floor 55 first. We'll discuss our future plans there."

"Yes, sir."

In a situation like this, the captain knew that his boss's reply was going to be yes and nothing else. He had no alternative ideas, nor any other concerns with the plan. But this was kicking the can down the alleyway. They'd need a solid answer before long—but the word retreat simply didn't exist in the imperial dictionary.

"You're going? Yeah, I'm sure you are. Well, good luck, but before you go, I forgot about one other warning. We've confirmed the presence of five special monsters in the area. Keep an eye out for them."

"Special monsters?"

"Yeah. Nobody's successfully beaten them yet, as far as I know. They've got to be uniques, I'm sure of that, and they're nasty. They've killed several of my comrades already."

They were a red slime, a golden skeleton, a deathly ghost, a heavy suit of

living armor, and a small but powerful dragon. This vicious band was apparently patrolling the halls around this set of floors, a highly unusual presence among the herd of golems. Encounter them, the guard warned, and you were as good as dead.

The survivors from the upper floors took that advice to heart as they moved on. It would be just a bit longer before they knew what was waiting for them. Deeper and deeper they went, incessantly and in strict formation, not knowing of the killing fields awaiting them.

Labyrinth Floors 61–70

"What? You still haven't won yet?"

"I'm sorry, sir! Looks like we failed to achieve a breakthrough again…"

Hearing that report threw all the soldiers into despair. Floor 70 was home to a massive gate, a sort of boundary between this one and the great citadel of death.

...…

...

…

Pushing their way through the swarms of undead monsters, the imperial soldiers swaggered across the labyrinth. It was going well at first—at first anyway.

All the monsters that appeared were of the undead variety. Get used to the stench of rotting meat, and it wasn't anything an imperial soldier would have much trouble fending off. The first thousand troops sent here managed to establish a base of operations, and after meeting with others, they decided to continue the invasion downward. Losing contact with the surface was a painful blow, but they weren't completely isolated. More would arrive when the time came, they decided, and so it was not a major problem.

So like a raging torrent, the troops stormed down the floors. On day one alone, they had explored and mapped out most of the terrain between Floors 61 and 69.

Floor 70 was the problem. For some reason, this floor was a large, hilly area, one where all the vegetation had withered away. It was the eerie remains of a battlefield, with a hint of death in the air, and at the far end of it loomed a massive gate, similar in size to the one up on the surface. Made of bones, it was located in the middle of a wall that surrounded a fortified city. Why was this in a labyrinth? That was the question on everyone's mind.

Apart from this gate, there was no other entrance into the city. There were no drainage pipes, no service gates, none of the other facilities you'd expect to be required for regular life. It made sense. This city was occupied by the lifeless— the immortal undead—and on day one, its gates remained firmly shut.

They tried to destroy the walls, but they proved tenaciously thick. Any section they destroyed, the undead would come swooping out to repair it, so the demolition work proceeded slowly, if at all. Even coming close to the wall exposed them to the armed Skeleton Archers up top. It was too much trouble to attack in small numbers, so the Empire forces decided to wait for reinforcements.

On the morning of day two, the imperials now had over ten thousand troops on hand—and just as they were about to begin their attack, the large gates opened soundlessly out of nowhere. Behind it awaited a hideous-looking wight king. It was a skeleton—but was that the right word? Its pure-white bones, polished to perfection, shone in the light as it spoke fluently to the soldiers.

"Welcome to my kingdom Deathtopia. I am Adalmann, the Immortal King. Our preparations for the feast are complete. Now, it is time to enjoy ourselves. Let us begin!"

Immediately after Adalmann introduced himself, an oppressive wave rushed over the army. This king was served by a band of unholy death knights, along with a death dragon that still loomed in all its majesty, long after life had escaped its clutches. Its evil roar was unleashed with enough sheer force to flatten the entire space—and then, from the sky, the death dragon landed just past the gate. The deadliest of dragons, the king of the mountain when it came to undead, had now bared its fangs at the imperial army.

And that wasn't all. Once the large gates fully opened, the legions of undead

swarmed out from inside. Massive armies of death knights, themselves led by a set of Death Lords, came crawling out one after another. The soldiers lined up in front of the gate were immediately thrown into confusion as the battle suddenly began.

This death dragon was an A-ranked monster, a fearsome adversary that required careful advance preparation to take a whack at. Its attribute was "undead," meaning that it could not be defeated unless its soul was directly attacked—and as proud as the Empire was of its great war power, if their foe was impervious to their attacks, they were helpless.

"G-get back! We can't just go slashing at random— Hrrkk!"

"Dammit! We have to fight fire with fire here…"

"No! He regenerates faster than he burns!"

"You have to get out of here! If you don't, its miasma will hit you and rip your spirit apart!"

The army was in chaos—and as if to laugh at them, the dragon's jaw opened wide.

"Look out! That's— Aghh!"

"Brrrt…"

"It's…my bodyyy! It's rottinggg…!!"

The death dragon's Zombie Breath rained down from high above, bathing all its earthbound targets. The majority of them failed the resistance check and promptly stopped living. And that wasn't all, for those contaminated by the dragon's miasma became zombies themselves, readily obeying the orders of their superior beings. In this case, the "superior being" would be the wight king in the area—in other words, Adalmann. All the casualties the Empire took from the miasma were inversely proportional to the rise in Adalmann's strength.

And that wasn't the only tragedy for the imperial force. Even those who managed to escape the death dragon's rampage weren't safe, for now the death knights spurred on their death horses as they chased down the would-be escapees. In the blink of an eye, the Empire's numbers were decimated—and in

less than an hour, the force of ten thousand was wiped out.

The devastation would be passed on to the rest of the army by the few people who survived—and now the battle for Floor 70 was in full swing.

...…

...

…

From day two onward, the imperial army made many attempts to break into Floor 70. The first one ended in painful defeat; the second and third saw similar results. Nothing was going their way, and the overwhelming threat of the death dragon was just the start of it.

Although their numbers were only in the low thousands, the death knights experienced no death, no fatigue, no exhaustion. They earned an A-minus rank as a threat, and their regenerative skills kept them going no matter how many times they were beaten down. The Death Lords commanding them must have been on par with the best warriors the Empire could offer. They surpassed them in quality, even, and their army's ability to carry on fighting through untold damage far overcame their numerical disadvantage.

On top of that, Adalmann had the Death Paladin Alberto working under him as part of the Ten Dungeon Marvels. Even the imperial elites on the ground here couldn't find a way to fight against this army of immortals.

"…But that will end with this offensive. I expect great things from you all!"

A colonel with the imperial army had just wrapped up his speech to his soldiers. He was part of a group from the upper floors who arrived here on day four; they, along with the combined existing forces, were about to wage total war.

The Empire wasn't incompetent, of course. There were all kinds of ways to deal with an undead enemy. If you had a marauding army of zombies out to kill humankind, holy magic was an all-purpose go-to. Humankind had committed sizable resources to researching and demystifying the principles of this holy magic, and the Empire had succeeded in developing techniques that had a similar effect as offering prayers to a higher being. People well versed in these

techniques had been gathered from across the labyrinth and assigned to the units here on Floor 70. They'd provide resistance to the dragon's evil miasma and penetrative power against the "undead" attribute. That was the crux of this operation.

The imperial army was now in formation atop the hilly terrain, numbering seventy thousand in all. Adalmann's forces, meanwhile, numbered less than forty thousand, and even that was accounting for all the zombie reinforcements he'd won for himself over the past few days. The Empire had a clear numerical advantage, and now every member of their force believed that victory would be theirs at long last.

Then the decisive battle began…and the king made his move. "Think you've outsmarted me? Think again. Extra Skill: Holy-Evil Inversion!"

The Immortal King had perfect control over all his forces, down to the end of the line. Once his power reached across his entire network, their weakness to the holy attribute was no longer an issue. The Empire, wholeheartedly relying on that weakness, would soon realize just how off target their scheme was…and how massive their ensuing defeat would be.

With that defeat, the imperial soldiers' wills were broken. The survivors were driven to despair, frantically fleeing toward the upper floors. They completely forgot about the conditions for beating the Dungeon; the only thing left in their minds was the thirst for life, the urge to survive.

Labyrinth Floors 71–79

The soldiers dropped off at these floors were instantly forced into a never ending battle against swarms of insects. The onslaught was incessant; unafraid of death, they continually attacked, not letting up for a moment.

For the troops sent here on day one of the labyrinth invasion, the first twenty four hours against these swarms were a sobering experience but not a truly fearsome one. Building their base in a passageway they gained control of, they immediately stepped up to take countermeasures.

These insects, dozens of times larger than regular ones, were not only terrifying sights; they packed a punch, too. Let your guard down, and you'd be

eaten alive in a matter of seconds—keep your cool, though, and you'd realize that each individual one wasn't that strong. Plus, if these swarms never stopped attacking, that meant the potential for magic crystal harvesting was enormous. It was all prime quality, too, lighting up the faces of every soldier.

This is no big deal, they thought. A regular adventuring party would have no way to take a break down here; their fatigue would build up, and sooner or later they'd stop giving 100 percent. But these soldiers didn't have to worry about that. If a skilled army wanted to conquer these floors, a bunch of bugs wasn't going to stop it—even if you counted each individual insect, the Empire still outnumbered them. They could also work in shifts during battle, always keeping themselves in perfect battle shape.

So the force gradually expanded its network of bases, smoothly proceeding along. They were given no time to relax, but in a way, that was the only real issue.

The rewards they reaped, on the other hand, were massive. This insect paradise was lined with all kinds of hidden rooms—caves hidden in trees, dark caverns, and so on. They often housed powerful monsters, but they also had treasure chests, and their contents kept the soldiers constantly smiling with glee. One of them had just found a dagger inside the last room's chests, a pricey-looking number done up with gold and silver. It was a capable blade, too, its sheen belying its magisteel make. Weapons with magisteel cores were expensive enough, but the blade's pure magisteel, well, that'd make any rank and-file soldier beam.

During the briefings, these soldiers were told that any magic crystals and other items recovered were the property of the military. However, smaller items like this dagger would very likely be overlooked—all their gear would be inspected later, but considering the soldier carrying this blade had to defeat the boss guarding it, it was very likely he'd get to keep it. His comrades eyed him enviously, but at the same time, they were all expecting it to be their turn next. If it wasn't for the chance at little side benefits like this, none of them would keep standing here, swatting giant flies the whole day.

By this time, they were also collecting quite a lot of magic crystals. Crystals of this purity were usually scarce finds, but the monsters here dropped them like

they were going out of style. The soldiers were laughing all the way to the bank, as it were, and at this rate, they were likely to rake in the bonuses.

From what they heard over the grapevine, it was pretty much the same deal up and down the floors. The section crawling with undead was a real disaster, though—you couldn't plunder anything from those guys, but they were a notch harder to kill. Meanwhile, the return on investment these bugs offered was second to none. The treasure they uncovered was more than satisfactory, at least, and everyone there was under the happy delusion that they'd be rolling in dough once they were back.

Things started going awry on day two. One soldier realized that when, before his wide-open eyes, the head of his buddy walking next to them was suddenly rolling by itself along the ground.

"Yeah, so when we get back, we're gonna have a wild night at— Huh?"

His buddy's head had what could only be described as a puzzled expression as his glassy eyes looked up at the headless corpse still standing above. His soundless voice stopped midway, his mouth still open as blood spurted out like a fountain, raining all over his comrades.

"Wh-whoaaa!!"

The soldier screamed. The sudden catastrophe that befell the person he had just been talking to was too much to comprehend at first. But even that soldier was lucky, because he was chosen as the next victim before his brain could comprehend anything else.

His head fell with a thud, and like the mute corpse he was next to, the man quickly expired. They died on Floor 79, a place full of flowers in dazzling bloom; one had thought of it as a safe zone until now.

"Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee… It was worth waiting a day for this. All this prey's come right to my doorstep. Thank you so much for coming! Now it's time to let us kill and feed off you."

The voice was clear as day—an attractive one, booming across the entire floor. It spoke the words of a queen, for it belonged to Apito, the Insect Queen and boss of this floor. Her beautiful voice was converted into thought waves

that reached every corner of the area—and to her faithful servants, they had the timbre of an order.

...…

...

…

Apito led a swarm of army wasps, a group of murderous insects nearly a foot long whose super senses could catch their human prey no matter how well they hid. Their small, transparent wings functioned as fearsome, high-frequency rotor blades, letting them easily perform irregular high-speed maneuvers. They were the "silent killers" of the insect world, sneaking up on you at the speed of sound.

Excellent dynamic vision wouldn't mean anything against army wasps. Without exceeding the intrinsic limits of the human body, it'd be impossible to so much as detect them. The extra-skill combination of Hasten Thought and Ultraspeed Reaction were the bare minimum requirements to keep track of their movements. Just one wasp was classified as an over-A disaster.

Incidentally, in the Western Nations, the sighting of even one army wasp caused the authorities to issue a state of emergency. It'd be immediately reported to the top echelons of each nation's military, who would then form a posse of senior-level knights—including the Crusaders, if possible. It would become a large-scale cleanup operation, featuring knights cornering wasps with holy barriers and weighing them down with weakening and slowing magic spells before doing them in. Even with that strategy, at least some casualties were always a given—that's how fearsome a monster they were. If more than one was uncovered, meanwhile, that dramatically increased the danger even more.

So how many were under the Insect Queen's control?

...…

...

…

The number of army wasps carrying out Apito's orders easily exceeded one

thousand. And so before long, the wholesale slaughter began.

Anyone who might've thought Yeah, I can take 'em was doomed. Even if they were A-ranked powerhouses, unless they had achieved a certain level in their fighting skill, they were little removed from a rank amateur. If you couldn't react to an army wasp's speed, all that awaited was certain death.

And so it took less than ten minutes before all the imperial soldiers gathered on this floor were killed.

Labyrinth Floors 81–90

Let's be frank about it: Day one was just a little warm-up. All the surviving soldiers thought so. Their comrades were gone—all killed by monsters that had the strength of demons or ancient gods. But they weren't the only ones ruing their fates. The same tragedy was playing out on other floors. Everyone was now locked in a desperate battle, forced to fight powerful enemies at every single floor…with no chance of victory.

Floor 81 was a paradise for magical beasts, strutting around with their powerful bodies and forming great herds. But these were still dumb brutes, and an imperial soldier could defeat one of them with ease. On average, the strength of each individual ranked a B or higher probably, and they usually appeared in groups of three to five. That had the potential to surprise an unprepared soldier, but not enough to get anyone killed.

So they found the stairs before long, quickly meeting up with the thousand strong force thrown into Floor 82. Not a bad day's work overall, they felt. It might take some time, but with a few days to work with, they ought to have this whole thing conquered before long. Then day two came, and the arrival of a certain new adversary changed everything.

On Floor 82, a dense jungle from end to end, was a sentient ape who spoke the humans' language. It was called simply the White Monkey, and it controlled both the wind and the sound, calling forth mighty storms as it flew across the sky. Its beautiful white pelt shone attractively across its supple physique, and the way it ran unfettered across every inch of the battlefield was so fetching that it almost created the illusion of watching a rehearsed performance. Its unique form of combat, using a mix of martial arts and a club in its hand, was

paired with a seemingly never-ending array of aerial killing techniques. Add to that the vorpal blades it shot in all directions, and the White Monkey was one of the most dangerous magical beasts in existence.

In very little time, the White Monkey had used its sorcery to bring the imperial army to the brink of destruction. Then, after an hour of this rampage, it left like the wind, shouting "I'll be back!" as it did. The regular raids from this simian menace would begin two days later.

One after another, soldiers and their comrades fell. They had fought with every bit of the pride they held as imperial subjects, but they had all been defeated. The sniper team's shots were blocked by the Monkey's storms; spells that affected its strength or status were blocked by its sorcery. Spellgun-driven magic wasn't strong enough to overcome its wind barrier. That only left close quarters combat, and even the best the Restructured Armor Corps had to offer were just being led around by the nose.

They were being tossed about by the White Monkey like children—and then, whenever time was up, it would simply leave. The reason? Simple: It was waiting for more imperial soldiers to show up.

At first, they ferociously resented being toyed with like this. Now they just wanted this ape to go away. Now there were less than a thousand survivors, and one soldier among them wondered how much longer he had to live. He just couldn't understand how it came to this, no matter how much he thought about it. Then he spotted a white figure. When did the gears start to go out of sync…? Before he could find the answer, a dark curtain fell over his vision.

Floor 83 featured an expansive grassland with good visibility from end to end. There were pitfalls and other bush-league traps set up, but they posed no obstacle at all. The weather was fine, the faces on the marching forces bright. But on the night of day two, the Empire suffered staggering damage.

The moon had just shifted from waxing to full, and now it framed a lofty, high minded rabbit in the air. This was the Moon Rabbit, the master of gravity, and its attacks made no distinction between friend or foe—but here it didn't need to worry about the former. Although its powers depended on the moon phase, the Rabbit was capable of turning heaven and earth upside down even during a

new moon.

Now the imperial army was at the mercy of this crushing super-gravitational force. But it wasn't over. Night would come again, soon enough—and in three days, a full moon, the night when the Rabbit's power was strongest…

Floor 84 was an intricate maze of cobblestone alleyways. The soldiers walking them seemed pale.

"W-water, I need water…"

"No dice. I can't reach our supply team. You'll have to hold out."

"Shit! It's only been three days, but I'm so damn thirsty… I can't eat without any water…"

This surgically enhanced soldier was crying about his uncontrollable thirst. It was a hard scene to believe. But it wasn't his fault. Because the Empire was confident in its ability to create drinking water with magic, they had supplied each soldier with only enough to fill their canteen. A portable food supply, the higher-ups felt, was much more of a priority.

Now it was this army's downfall. The air on this floor was filled with some kind of toxin, and there wasn't enough evaporated water in the air to magically collect. This situation was only discovered on day three, when some soldiers began to fall ill. Plus, in a particularly nasty turn of events, antidote magic didn't work on this poison. No matter how many times they tried to undo the toxin's effect, it just kept leaking into their water supply.

They could breathe normally, at least…but before much longer, they were going to face some serious attrition. Even now they were having frontline soldiers collapsing from the pain, exhibiting high fevers and black spots on their skin.

"We got another one! He's lost too much strength. He needs treatment…" "Dammit, we've got no medics in here! Any healing magic?"

"It's not having any effect…"

And so more and more of their comrades fell—and every imperial soldier who was there to see it wondered if they would be next.

Now tiny monsters were running around at their feet in the midst of all this. They were black-furred mice, not even two inches long, and they seemed so trivial that the soldiers paid them no mind. That was a serious mistake, for the mice were the very source of all this. In fact, they were the minions of the Black Mouse, the floor boss—the plague monarch spreading a dark, foul illness.

The soldiers had made a terrible mistake. So distracted were they by the powerful magical beasts trotting around that they totally ignored a little black mouse they could've crushed with one step. These servants of the Black Mouse were thus free to spread their germs with abandon.

If someone with Shinji's restorative skills was here, maybe they could have disabled the trap placed on this floor—but sadly, no such handy doctor was present. Magical healing tended not to work very much on illness; it was meant more for physical injury, although certain other spells were better honed to deal with particular diseases. Boosting a patient's physical strength didn't matter much if the root of the disease wasn't cured; injury and disease, after all, required two completely different schools of treatment. If you needed someone who could totally cure a disease, well, there were only one or two holy magic practitioners of that caliber per nation. They were rare treasures, and barring special circumstances, they'd never serve in military combat.

Death spread its tendrils across this floor as well.

Floor 85 was dominated by a royal tiger, patrolling the thick deciduous forest that was its domain. The magical beasts that roamed freely on the other floors were completely under this tiger's thrall.

This ruler was the Thunder Tiger, a big cat that controlled lightning. While the Empire thought it had the upper hand before it showed up, this perceived advantage didn't last long. Put rapidly on the defensive, they were forced back to their base by the stairway.

The forest belonged to the monsters, and despite being literally cornered to one edge of it, the soldiers continued their struggle…

Floor 86 was a desert occasionally dotted by oases. The sun shone brightly, the temperature rising every minute it was in the sky; when it left at night, the cold chilled to the bone. The temperature difference was so great that it sapped

the strength of many soldiers before battle even began.

They assumed the climate would be their greatest enemy here—and while they weren't wrong, they weren't exactly right, either. The real trap here was the oxygen in the air.

The Winged Snake was here, and the domain it ruled over was the air. Controlling its composition—reducing the oxygen level to zero, for example— was like taking candy from a baby. And when the soldiers assumed the temperature difference was something they'd get over after some rest, that was all it took to ensure a peaceful passing in their sleep for every one of them…

Floor 87 was, for some reason, a vast mountain range. The tranquil views reminded many soldiers of their families back home; if they let themselves reminisce for a moment, they could bask in their happy childhoods and envision lovers they dreamed of seeing once more.

It took just under five days for them to become fully relaxed. That was partly thanks to the low monster rates around the peaks; unlike many other floors, it was difficult to maintain alertness.

And that was why they never noticed that the guards on duty had fallen asleep, never waking up. They only seemed awake thanks to a hallucination in their own minds. This was the work of the Sleeping Ram, a peace-loving soul that, with its gentle invitations, had reaped the consciousness of all the soldiers without a drop of bloodshed. The Sleeping Ram's illusory hypnosis lured them all to sleep—a sleep they would never awaken from.

Floor 88, a forest bordering a great river, was home to a bird of raging flames.

Strangely, this fire never spread itself to the surrounding trees. It could only burn those who were hostile to it—and when it did, it went on forever, never fading.

This was the Fire Bird, the master of the flames, and it served as the floor boss here. This Fire Bird and the other avian creatures that served under it quickly burned all the invading soldiers to a crisp.

Floor 89 was a maze made of mirrors. Nothing organic played a role on this

floor; it was immaculately maintained, with every mirrored surface polished to a fine sheen. All the reflections on the walls, of course, complicated the maze further for the intruders, and the mirrors themselves were unbreakable. Why? Because they were created with a secret spell from a single monster—the Mirror Dog, flitting across every reflective surface.

Running freely among the mirrors, it toyed mercilessly with the imperial army. It existed within the mirrors themselves; mirrors that bounced all magic back to the casters. This made it hard to so much as catch the Mirror Dog in action— and as it reflected itself more and more, multiplying to seemingly infinite numbers, the pitiful prey were all devoured.

At every level, vicious floor bosses were on the rampage. Each had been granted an environment best suited for their traits, allowing them to demonstrate their abilities to the fullest.

Still, the imperial army tried their hardest to resist. Sometimes, they were even able to defeat these bosses, cheers erupting across the floor whenever they did. But they came right back to life, again and again, and that truth frightened them more than anything else.

The situation on the other floors was much the same, as the rumor mill had it. The realization broke the soldiers' hearts, as it made continuing the fight seem utterly pointless.

And as for the most desperate among them all…

The monkey, rabbit, mouse, tiger, snake, ram, bird, and dog were all mystic beasts, the Eight Legions serving Kumara—nothing more than her cherished pets. Each one was a transformation born from one of her tails, and their respective abilities were granted by Kumara herself. When all eight came together—that was when Kumara took her full form.

She was no longer a child, but one of the world's most beautiful women: Nine-Head Kumara, guardian of Floor 90 and the master of these eight mystic beasts. And now a group of foolish, pathetic victims were coming her way. They were nothing but food for Kumara—thus the death toll within the labyrinth climbed that much higher.

Five hundred thirty thousand imperial soldiers invaded the labyrinth. Just a

few days later, the number of survivors dropped to zero.