The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 93
Chapter 93: The fat aristocrat finds it
When Mitrof woke up in the morning, he checked the condition of his arm. He had been resting from exploring the labyrinth due to a strain in his right arm muscles, but now the pain was gone. He thought that he could go to the labyrinth without any problems.
Rest days were good for resting the body. Mitrof’s body was no longer tired.
However, it was a different matter if the heart could rest. It seemed that it was more restful to focus on fighting monsters than to write down things that absentmindedly shift to the heart.
Mitrof changed into his work clothes for labyrinth exploration, put on a leather gauntlet on his left arm, and attached a thrusting sword to his sword belt. While carefully tying his boot laces, he considered inviting Canule.
The doctor had told him to rest quietly for a week.
Canule also supported that, and she was a serious person. She worries about him. Even if Mitrof said that he was already cured, she would prioritize the doctor’s words.
“…I’ll just move my body a little.”
Muttering excuses to the emptiness, Mitrof left the room.
He had no intention of delving too deep, only walking around the shallow levels. He wouldn’t push himself too hard in battle. This was simply to check the condition of his arms. But then, he realized he needed to get Canule’s permission.
When he lined up his excuses, his actions didn’t seem so bad. Yes, everyone has the right to exercise. He needed to exercise to lose weight.
If he went to the guild, he would only see other adventurers bustling around. Being a member of that community made Mitrof feel at ease. He felt a sense of security knowing that this was his place to belong.
When he looked for the counter to enter the labyrinth, the usual receptionist was there. The receptionist smiled at Mitrof with her large round glasses still on her nose.
“Mitrof-san, are you alone today?”
“Yeah, I plan on walking around the shallow levels—just for exercise and to check the condition of my arms.”
Maybe it was because of a little sense of guilt towards Canule that Mitrof found himself making excuses without being asked.
The receptionist answered with a vague smile, “Okay,” and took Mitrof’s adventurer card.
Every adventurer entering the labyrinth must complete the necessary procedures here.
They record who, how many, why, and which floor they are heading to.
“How long will you be gone?”
“I think I’ll be back by early afternoon—when I get hungry.”
“Understood.”
The receptionist smoothly filled in the paperwork.
“I’m always asked about my return time, but what happens if I don’t come back?”
“If it’s been 24 hours and you haven’t returned, a search team will be dispatched.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“Well, yes.”
The receptionist chuckled with a hint of meaning. When Mitrof tilted his head in confusion, the receptionist frowned and replied.
“If someone has not returned from the labyrinth, it usually means they have died or their body cannot be found—typically, we search for a body or something that identifies them; however, sometimes they are unable to move due to injuries.”
“I see… Well, if you’re stuck in the labyrinth, you won’t have long to live.”
“Hopefully adventurers or ‘people of the labyrinth’ can find you instead.”
“Will the ‘people of the labyrinth’ help me?”
“It’s not widely known, but they do help adventurers—it’s an unspoken agreement, you could say.”
It seems that there are adult circumstances involved in the vague wording.
Mitrof wonders if Blanc Manje is also helping adventurers. He does not know what she thinks or what her purpose is. However, he has a feeling that she is not a bad person. There is also a debt of gratitude for receiving “amber” as compensation for completing the quest.
As Mitrof received the card from the receptionist, he wondered if he should have listened to the conversation more carefully before diving into the labyrinth.
Walking alone in the dim labyrinth, Mitrof felt refreshed.
Come to think of it, this was the first time he had walked alone since the first time he came here. After being saved from a life-threatening situation, he formed a party with Grace and Canule. When Grace returned to the village, it was just the two of them.
Now that Grace had returned, Mitrof had thought that once they dealt with the problem at the orphanage, the three of them would walk through here again naturally.
However, as Lattier, Grace’s older sister, had worried, the labyrinth was a dangerous place.
Mitrof had no other means of earning a living. Canule was searching for clues to break the curse within the labyrinth. But Grace has no more reason to take risks in the labyrinth.
For Grace’s sake, Mitrof negotiated with a noble collector, exchanged a precious labyrinth’s relic they found together for the ingredients for medicine, and handed it over to Grace as is.
Grace probably thinks she owes Mitrof a favor. Will they end up discussing how she pays off that debt by adventuring together?
While walking, Mitrof’s mind becomes calm when encountering monsters.
They defeat monsters they occasionally come across without hesitation. Even opponents, whom he used to be so afraid of and fight so desperately with, can now be handled calmly. There, he felt his growth and the passage of time.
While walking in the labyrinth, Mitrof passes by other adventurers. A party of beginners returns with tired faces. A man guarding the fire replenishes oil to the hanging lanterns on the walls.
Everything seems to be simplified inside the labyrinth.
Defeating monsters, walking, and returning, that’s all they need to do.
For Mitrof, it was easy and relaxing.
Mitrof descended the stairs, ready to fight monsters alone. He could still do it. He was still okay. As he extended his steps, Mitrof reached the farthest point of the fifth basement floor.
Standing at the junction, where one path leads to the stairs descending to lower floors, and the other leads to the room of the “guardian,” Mitrof hesitated about whether to turn back or move forward. It was good physical exercise and a good distraction.
The sixth floor marked the second level, and the enemies grew tougher, making it difficult for him to advance alone.
Mitrof’s right arm was also feeling hot around the elbow, indicating that he was about to experience sharp, stinging pain. It would be foolish to injure himself by pushing too hard.
It was then that Mitrof decided to turn back.
However, he became drawn to the passage leading to the “guardian’s” room.
Labyrinths have mysterious rules, and one of them is the existence of a powerful monster called a “guardian” every five floors. Even if adventurers don’t defeat the “guardian,” they can still advance to lower floors. It’s a test of strength and a sort of badge of honor for adventurers.
The guardian of the fifth floor is a giant bear called the “Scarlet Bear.” Mitrof has only seen its right arm.
Mitrof had fought against the “Red-Eyed Troll,” a monster that had transformed into a mutant through “sublimation,” and defeated the “Scarlet Bear,” using its right arm as a weapon.
The “Red-Eyed Troll” hammered its claws into the floor, digging through the guardian’s room, finally making a hole. This was because the “Scarlet Bear’s” claws were so sharp and solid.
The guild quickly sealed the hole. However, strangely enough, Mitrof heard that the “Scarlet Bear” had not appeared since then.
The Guild has closed the room in the name of investigating the cause, but adventurers just laugh and say there is no point in investigating the labyrinth, which they don’t even understand to begin with. Even if one of the eccentric “Guardians” disappears on a whim, adventurers’ lives are not affected in any way.
In front of Mitrof, a sign indicating “restricted access” was set up, serving as proof of these rumors.
“No one has any business in the room without the “Guardian”. Well, even if there was, I have no intention of going…”
Mitrof squinted his eyes, and his round ears twitched. He held his breath to confirm that what he heard was not an auditory hallucination.
“…Is that a song?”
There was a faint echo coming from the end of the passage. Like how wind whispers through the gaps in wooden doors in the winter, it was obscure and unstable, yet a melody nonetheless.
‘Was it just my imagination?’ Mitrof placed his hand on his nape, feeling a tingle from the base of his hair all the way to the back of his neck. ‘But why does it bother me so much?’
Mitrof doesn’t believe in intuition.
Bad things can happen unexpectedly, and good things rarely occur. It’s a mere chance to predict them beforehand. Even if you feel a bad premonition a hundred times a day, it’s bound to come true eventually.
But now, Mitrof has an inexplicable feeling that a “bad premonition” is haunting him.
‘No, I shouldn’t worry about it,’ Mitrof said, shaking his head.
Hearing music from an empty room is just a drunken man’s rambling.
He retraced his steps a few steps back and stopped.
“… I’m just going to check—there’s nothing there anyway.”
It’s not a sense of guilt for breaking into a restricted area, but rather a self-affirmation.
With his right hand still on the hilt, Mitrof walked towards the corridor leading to the “Guardian’s” room, silently checking for any lurking figures in the darkness.
Apparently, even the firekeepers don’t enter this area. The lantern hanging on the wall is not lit. As the darkness deepened, Mitrof stopped, took out a lantern from his backpack, and illuminated the area.
As he advanced with it held up before his eyes, he realized it wasn’t just an auditory hallucination; he could clearly hear the song now.
Legend has it that in the sea, there are spirits known as sirens. These sirens, also known as mermaids, have the appearance of beautiful women and bewitch sailors with their lovely singing voices.
But what Mitrof was hearing now was not music to his ears. The melody was off-key, the volume was unstable, and the unpleasant sound was like metal scraping together. As it entered his ears, it felt like ice-cold thorns were being thrust into his back, causing a chill to run through him. Nonetheless, this was a song.
At the end of the corridor, there was a small hall and a pair of rough double doors. There was no sign of human presence, and the air was filled with an atmosphere like that of a deserted ruin.
Although it would be the right call to turn back and report to the guild, something piqued Mitrof’s curiosity and prompted him to place his hand on the doors.
There is something or someone beyond the doors. ‘What could it be?’ The desire to see something scary moves Mitrof forward.
Pushing the door, it seemed like a heavy stone door, but when pushed with force, the gaps opened while scraping the ground. The singing abruptly stopped.
Mitrof also paused for a moment, then pushed the door further and peered into the room with a lantern in hand.
The Guardian’s Hall, where no light penetrated, was filled with silence and darkness.
From his neck to his spine, Mitrof felt a tingling sensation. He felt like something was there.
The calm voice in his head told him to turn back. Nevertheless, Mitrof continued onward.
He raised the lantern and turned around on the spot, as if it were a smooth dance step that had become ingrained in his body, to observe his surroundings.
The lantern was too weak to fully illuminate the Guardian’s Hall, making it difficult to have a comprehensive view of the whole room.
Mitrof froze. He held his breath, listening for any sound of movement. A single bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.
The singing had stopped. There was nothing there. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“I guess intuition is not always reliable.”
As Mitrof turned on his heel to leave, he shrugged his shoulders.
Then an elderly woman with a grotesque appearance stood in a place where no one should have been.