by Michael Sisa
VOLUME 6: CHAPTER 6
After inspecting the murals on the first floor of the labyrinth, Lark immediately descended to the second floor.
It was a typical cavern, with glowing algae covering portions of the walls. Numerous poison wisps wandered the floor aimlessly. Those who tried latching onto Lark were immediately repelled by the small, translucent mana barrier he’d covered himself with.
Lark stabbed the poison wisps’ cores with his sword, and they burst like overinflated balloons before dissipating.
The second floor was surprisingly easy. Every now and then, traps would be activated as Lark made his way into the labyrinth, but all of them were easily taken care of by the mithril cubes. When arrows shot toward him from the walls, the mithril cubes would immediately separate into eight smaller pieces and block each of them, rendering the traps useless.
Even the whirling blades, which shot toward Lark from above the tunnels, were easily blocked by the mithril cubes. Although the arrows and the whirling blades held enough strength to destroy iron shields, their power simply wasn’t enough to penetrate an artifact made of mithril.
It did not take much time before Lark finally arrived on the third floor of the labyrinth.
Lark had heard from Lady Ropianna that this was the floor where the royal knights encountered the arachnia. The moment Lark stepped foot on this floor, he immediately released a cloud of mana and forced it to expand into his immediate surroundings. A spell meant to detect hidden monsters.
Although they said that the arachnia and its eggs had already been taken care of, Lark did not dismiss the chance of other arachnia hiding on this floor.
With the cloud of mana probing his surroundings as he walked, Lark quickly moved through the third floor of the labyrinth. Along the way, he passed by the rotting, decapitated body of a giant spider. He also saw several broken eggs in the far corner—the webs covering them had already been burned by magic.
“Such a waste,” said Lark.
The egg of an arachnia was an extremely valuable ingredient in alchemy. It was one of the main ingredients in creating a pinnacle-grade healing potion.
A soft sigh leaked out of Lark’s mouth as he stared at the broken eggs sitting on the ground. These monsters were so rare that he probably wouldn’t encounter another one in this lifetime.
Lark could only imagine the number of pinnacle-grade healing potions he could have made with just a single egg of this giant spider monster.
There was no real need for the royal knights to destroy the eggs. Without the mother arachnia, those eggs would never hatch. Lark did not know the exact explanation for this, but he remembered one of the researchers in the Magic Empire telling him that the physiology of an arachnia was quite unique. The researcher told him that the moment the mother arachnia died, all of its unborn offspring would eventually perish.
It seemed that the royal knights weren’t aware of this fact as they made thoroughly sure that all of its eggs were destroyed before they descended to the lower floors of the labyrinth.
Lark searched through the dead body of the arachnia just to be sure, but as expected, its mana stone had already been pulled out of its body.
He cleaned his bloodied hands using magic, before eventually descending to the next floor of the labyrinth.
The fourth floor of the labyrinth was exactly how it had been described to him by Lady Ropianna before he left the capital. The moment he set foot on it, it felt as though he’d entered an entirely different world.
Gigantic trees reaching all the way to the ceiling, colossal roots covering most of the ground, brown and red leaves forming canopies. Innumerable particles of light, which resembled fireflies, floated in the air. Even without light magic, Lark could see everything clearly.
“Those kids… really.” Lark smiled.
These colossal, ancient-looking trees were definitely elven oaks—trees capable of harnessing mana from their surroundings and using it to fortify their trunk, roots, and branches. Wood from elven oak was extremely strong and malleable—a lot of magic items could be made from it, most notably, arrows and bows that wouldn’t break even if you applied tremendous amounts of mana into them—making it the ideal raw material for weapons for archers.
These trees were coveted even back in the Magic Empire.
“There’s so many of them,” said Lark as he looked around.
By estimate, there were easily hundreds of these gargantuan trees here. Untouched by humans for such a long time, they had managed to reach adulthood and propagated over time.
According to Lady Ropianna, this should be the floor guarded by that monster. The creature which almost annihilated the royal knights.
Lark kept walking and after half an hour the sea of trees ended. He arrived at a grassland.
Lark frowned.
From where he stood, he could see an absurdly large golden statue. It was more than a hundred meters tall, thirty meters wide. Its head almost reached the ceiling.
The most stunning thing wasn’t its size, nor the fact that it was made entirely of gold. What surprised Lark the most was the fact that the statue was his spitting image, a few years before his death.
He’d already heard about this statue’s existence, but he hadn’t heard that it was made in the image of Evander Alaester.
The way he was holding the book on his left hand and a staff on the right gave off such extreme grandeur, it felt embarrassing, almost nauseating. Lark’s stomach churned upon seeing it. He didn’t know why his disciples had made the statue so imposing.
Lark’s surprise didn’t stop with the statue.
According to the Seer, the monster guarding this floor was initially found sleeping in a gigantic hole on the fourth floor of the labyrinth. But right now, he could clearly see the seven-headed monster sleeping right next to the statue, coiled around its base.
Black, iridescent scales. Long necks with serpentine heads resembling that of a dragon. Its two pairs of bat-like wings were folded and covered more than half its body.
The seven-headed monster’s size was almost comparable to the golden statue. For a moment, Lark wondered how such a prideful creature endured living here for hundreds of years. It must have felt so cramped and suffocated. Had this seven-headed monster been human, it would probably have lost its sanity by now.
Lark’s initial plan was to approach the statue quietly, enter the treasure room, and retrieve the Sword of Morpheus. But that had gone down the drain now. It’d be near impossible for Lark to enter the treasure room without alerting the monster coiled around the statue.
Lark was racking his brain for a feasible method when suddenly, one of the seven heads slowly opened its eyes and stared at Lark, who’d been standing a good distance away from the statue for quite some time now.
“Damn it,” mumbled Lark.
The head growled, and the remaining six heads immediately jolted out of their slumber. All seven heads roared, as though angry that another human had come to taint their sacred ground. The ground lightly trembled as the monster uncoiled itself from the statue.
Without warning, one of the heads opened its mouth and spat out a gigantic orb of lightning in Lark’s direction. Lark amplified the strength of his body with mana and moved to the left, avoiding the colossal ball of lightning by a wide margin. The lightning magic struck the ground and exploded into numerous lightning serpents, scorching the grasses and dirt, forming a large crater big enough for four carriages.
Lark’s expression turned grim.
As expected, in his current state, it would be impossible for him to win against this monster.
If the seven-headed monster went on a rampage outside this labyrinth, it could probably lay waste to a major city or two in a single day.
The other heads snorted after the first head missed its target—as though saying ‘you can’t even hit a mere human?’—then one of them sneered, opened its mouth wide, and breathed a torrent of fire at Lark.
His speed and strength s
till amplified with magic, Lark ran to the side and evaded the attack. But unlike the ball of lightning, the torrent of fire continued pouring out of the Scylla’s mouth, following him as he ran.
The other heads didn’t stay idle, as they too, started firing their spells. The third head started summoning a gargantuan wind vortex and shot it toward Lark. The fourth head summoned several dozens of ice spears, and shot each of them at Lark from all directions.
No incantations.
No magic formations.
These strong spells had been cast almost instantaneously.
Lark felt as though he was fighting a dragon as several offensive spells rained down on him one after another.
With a spell-casting speed incomparable to other magicians, Lark summoned a small orb of wind and willed it to spin at a frightening rate, opposite the spin of the wind vortex’s. It shot toward the wind vortex and struck its center, momentarily halting the flow of mana and disrupting the direction of the wind. Lark used this opening to fire a second wind spell, which, after striking the wind vortex, shattered it completely.
The mithril cubes immediately separated into smaller pieces and blocked the ice spears one after another. Those that managed to bypass the mithril cube’s defenses were immediately dealt with by the mana barrier Lark had created.
Lark continued running, all the while avoiding the torrent of fire and blocking the ice spears raining down from the sky.
After all of the ice spears had been shattered into pieces, the torrent of fire finally stopped. The Scylla stared at Lark, clearly surprised that the human managed to block three consecutive attacks. What bothered the Scylla the most was the way the human dealt with its wind vortex spell. The two small orbs of wind the human used to destroy the Scylla’s magic were clearly lower tier, but easily disrupted the flow of mana and shattered the spell completely.
For some reason, it reminded the Scylla of the technique used by that human.
Silence momentarily fell.
A deep voice was heard on the fourth floor of the labyrinth.
The third head, the one that fired the wind vortex, spoke in human tongue, “Human, who are you?”
A grin slowly formed on Lark’s lips. A Scylla was a very prideful creature. Unlike dragons, it was rare for a Scylla to initiate conversation with humans. Even when confronting an entire army, this colossal monster normally wouldn’t utter a single word and would simply continue slaughtering humans mercilessly.
The fact that it asked this question meant that the Scylla had taken an interest in him.
The other heads looked at the third head in disapproval. They couldn’t understand why the third head would stoop so low as to initiate conversation with a mere mortal.
“What are you doing?” hissed the first head. It spoke in ancient draconic language. The same language spoken by dragons.
“You saw it too, didn’t you?” said the third head. “That human… he read the flow of my magic and easily disrupted it.”
“But to speak with a mere human!” The sixth head snorted. “Read the flow of magic? That’s nothing special! Even we can easily do that!”
“Shut it,” snapped the third head. “You didn’t even participate in the attack just now. Even back then, when those humans invaded this sacred ground, you simply watched in amusement! You damn, useless fool!”
“What did you say?”
Lark stared bewilderedly at the Scylla as the seven heads started bickering with each other. It was an amusing sight, since this was a legendary monster heard of only in legends.
The heads spoke with each other using ancient draconic language, unaware that Lark could perfectly understand their words. Lark wouldn’t have been surprised if the heads had started biting each other.
Judging by the conversation, it seemed that the third head wanted to converse with him, but the rest were adamantly against it.
In the end, the bickering stopped and the third head conceded. They decided to eliminate the intruder.
All seven heads started pouring colossal amounts of mana into a single spell. A large magic formation formed almost instantly above Lark as all seven heads worked together to create a single spell.
Lark’s eyes widened looking at the runes and layers in the magic formation. If that spell hit him, he would be reduced into pulp in an instant.
The damnable Scylla was casting Grand Scale Magic at him. A gravity spell similar to the one he used in Wizzert City, the only difference was that instead of suppressing, this one was meant to kill the target immediately.
To the Scylla, expending this much mana was trivial. It could probably cast several more spells of the same magnitude if it wanted. That was the difference between this monster and mere humans.
The heads roared, and the magic formation—which had been almost instantaneously created—shattered.
The Grand Scale Magic was activated.
Before the gravity spell descended on Lark, the mithril cubes spread out and activated the runes carved on its walls, creating a dome-shaped barrier above Lark. The barrier did nothing but halt the descent of the gravity spell for a full second, but this was enough time for Lark to cast several movement spells and move out of the spell’s radius.
The moment the barrier broke, the mithril cubes were struck by the gravity spell and contorted. The mana stored inside them burst and collided with the gravity spell, creating a shockwave.
The ground struck by the gravity spell turned into a large, bottomless pit. The mithril cube, no longer capable of sustaining itself, fell into the hole and vanished without a trace.
Everything happened in an instant. With seven heads working together to perform a single spell, even casting Grand Scale Magic had become a trivial task.
All seven heads stared at Lark for a moment. As though saying that this was merely the start, the Scylla started casting another spell.
Another large magic formation appeared above Lark.
VOLUME 6: CHAPTER 7
It was preposterous.
The Scylla started casting more Grand Scale Magic at him, and just like before, the magic formation was activated in just a couple of seconds. Lark knew that he had to find a way to prevent all seven heads from working together, otherwise, they’d just keep firing spells at him one after another.
The magic formation above Lark glowed and spun slowly, eventually forming a portal-like vortex. Inside the vortex, hundreds of lightning serpents emerged and shot toward Lark, each of them probably strong enough to scorch and kill a knight in a single strike.
With the number of lightning serpents alone, it’d be impossible to outrun and evade them all. Lark stood his ground and started casting two barrier spells. The ground rose and formed five gigantic hands, each of them fortified by the wind barrier spell. The gigantic hands started swatting the lightning serpents, preventing them from hitting their master.
Cracks quickly started forming on the gigantic hands, despite the fortification of the wind barrier spell. At this rate, the defensive spell would shatter in a few seconds. And to make matters worse, two of the Scylla’s heads opened their mouths and spat out two colossal balls of fire.
Lark gnashed his teeth.
Hundreds of lightning serpents above and two colossal balls of fire in front.
If only he still had the mithril cubes.
Lark looked at the forest filled with gigantic, ancient trees. Elven oaks were several times stronger than an average tree. It was almost as strong as iron.
Without hesitation, Lark channeled large amounts of mana into his lower limbs and temporarily boosted his speed tremendously. He abandoned the giant hands protecting him and retreated in the direction of the forest. His legs screamed as his muscles started tearing apart after being pushed to their limit. Lark gritted his teeth and endured the pain.
The colossal balls of fire struck the giant hands made of earth magic and swallowed them completely. The lightning serpents, on the other hand, chased after Lark and shot in the direction of th
e forest. The lightning serpents avoided the trees, as though they had lives of their own as they chased after him. As expected of Grand Scale Magic.
Lark’s legs were becoming numb as seconds ticked by.
While keeping a good distance away from the hundreds of lightning serpents, he started casting his spell. Despite the fact the Scylla used seven heads to cast a single spell, Lark’s casting speed did not lose in the slightest.
Tremendous amounts of mana started oozing out of Lark’s body. Layers upon layers of runes started forming and overlapping with each other, forming a magic formation above the forest. After several seconds, the magic formation was complete.
Lark activated his spell.
Grand Scale Magic—Will of the Dryad.
The same spell he used in the forest near the capital. The same spell he used to annihilate the assassins sent by Black Midas.
After some deliberation, Lark had come to the conclusion that this was the best Grand Scale Magic to use in his current situation. Each of these ancient trees, which had lived for more than a thousand years, were almost as large as the Scylla itself. Although it would be impossible to control hundreds of them with this spell, even a few dozen would be enough to suppress the Scylla for a moment.
In his previous life, Lark always told his disciples that even a low tier spell could defeat a high-tier spell if used properly. When used at its utmost potential, even a single Grand Scale Magic spell could suppress that seven-headed monster.
The moment Lark’s spell was activated, the entire fourth floor of the labyrinth trembled. Several dozen ancient elven oak trees started uprooting themselves. Several faces of humans in despair started forming on their barks.
Lark could not ask for a more favorable battlefield right now. A forest filled with millennium-old gigantic elven oaks was undoubtedly the ideal place for the Will of the Dryad spell.
The roots of the elven oaks, some of which extended for more than a hundred meters, shot up and struck the lightning serpents. Some elven oaks started destroying the lightning serpents using their branches, and some used their mana-infused leaves to shield Lark from the attacks.
