The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 95
Chapter 95: The fat aristocrat runs away
Mitrof and Blanc Manje descended to the 6th floor together. The “guardian’s room” was located on the deepest part of the 5th floor, and the stairs were just past the hallway. There was a rest area at the bottom where many adventurers would gather.
Blanc Manje, wrapped in a robe from head to toe, stood out. Some knew of her presence.
However, adventurers who were accustomed to seeing only Mitrof were numerous. The Canule accompanying him always wore a black robe, concealing her entire body.
The color of her robe changed, but it wasn’t enough to draw attention. Adventurers, in general, were not very intrusive.
The two of them chose a place as far away as possible from their surroundings. Mitrof sat down heavily, while Blanc Manje gracefully lifted her gown and sit down.
“… First of all, I thank you. You saved my life. I also owe you another debt.”
Mitrof bowed his head, and Blanc Manje shook her head left and right.
“I’m glad you’re okay—that room is currently sealed off. It’s best to stay away for a while.”
“Despite being sealed off, there were no guards or security…”
“As I mentioned earlier, a warding spell is in place—the effect weakens if someone unrelated to the caster is present—so we intentionally kept people away… Mitrof-san, why were you there?”
“…I heard singing.”
“Singing?”
“Yeah, you heard it too, right?”
Mitrof naturally inquired, but Blanc Manje seemed puzzled. Mitrof was adept at sensing underlying reactions.
“…You can’t hear it?”
“I’ve never heard of singing before.”
“…”
Mitrof doubted himself for a moment, wondering if it was an auditory hallucination. However, that melody, which still lingered in his memory, was never a dream or a hallucination. He definitely heard it. But Blanc Manje had never heard of it.
“Wait, have you met that person before?”
“That demon over there is new to me.”
“What about other demons?”
Blanc Manje shrugged in response. Of course, there were others.
“Do demons appear frequently in the labyrinth?”
“Not so frequently, but yes, there are ‘demons’.”
‘Demons?’
The existence of the fantastical beings described in the Bible was being treated like the rats hiding in the attic. Mitrof grumbled in his throat and crossed his arms.
“Can they be defeated?”
“It’s possible.”
“Have you defeated any demons?”
“A few times.”
“Is that your duty?”
“I suppose you could say that, but the details are secret.”
Mitrof looked towards Blanc Manje’s waist. Had he not noticed before, or was he not carrying it at all? There was a sword there, and that flame-like blade…
“You must be strong.”
“Well, I can’t say for sure.”
“That power—is it perhaps a magic sword—?”
What came to mind was a rumor. A man calling himself an informant had told the story of a magic sword wielder who had cut a crystal lizard in two.
‘No way,’ Mitrof said, looking at Blanc Manje.
“You, you’re a magic sword wielder!”
Mitrof’s breath was rough with surprise and excitement, his childish heart longing for the legend of the magic sword.
However, Blanc Manje remained calm and kept a distance from Mitrof, who had leaned forward in excitement. Answering in a cool voice, Blanc Manje said, “What about it?”
“Well, there’s a rumor that a magic sword wielder is in the labyrinth…”
“There are always rumors like that going around—it’s a common one that has been going on for over several decades.”
“Huh?”
“…No need to look so sad about it.”
Mitrof’s shoulders slumped as he realized there were neither magic sword users nor magic swords. But then again, he thought, who wouldn’t yearn for a magic sword? There would always be rumors about it.
“I knew that deep down, but I can’t help but hope for it—I am a man after all.”
“…Is that so?”
The voice was filled with despair.
“Let’s give up on the magic sword—but I cannot give up on my sword.”
Now that he had left his beloved sword in the room, it had become a more pressing issue. He had sentimental value attached to it, and without a weapon, he would not be able to venture into the labyrinth.
“…Please wait a moment—If we succeed in subduing it, I believe you can return the favor.”
“Are you going to fight it again?”
“That’s the plan—It’s dangerous to leave it be.”
“I’ll help too.”
Mitrof straightened his back. His declaration, with his chest held high, was grand. As a noble, it went against his nurtured values to leave the fighting to the women and wait in a safe place.
“Do you plan to fight empty-handed?”
“Ah.”
All Mitrof had on his waist was an empty sheath. It was impossible for him to fight with just one short sword. Mitrof was now undoubtedly powerless. It was terribly unsettling to be in the labyrinth, where monsters roamed without any weapons.
“I will escort you home.”
Mitrof had no choice but to accept Blanc Manje’s proposal.