Zane’s official reason for visiting the Silverwood territory was to cultivate connections. In truth, the week-long journey had been for one purpose alone: a labyrinth hidden deep in the southern forests.
“…Is this the place? The one you had business at?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve been searching for two weeks,” Gideon said, his gaze sweeping across the empty woods. “But… there’s nothing here.”
Zane surveyed the area as well. Gideon was right. There was only an unpaved road and a forest that looked as if it had been left to itself for an age. Nothing stood out.
That’s why it took two weeks of painstaking effort.
Zane’s face remained a mask of indifference, but inwardly, a long-held tension eased from his shoulders. After the ball, he had spent nearly twenty days combing the Silverwood countryside for this place.
I was too complacent, he thought. Just because it was easy to find in the game…
His eyes shifted to a small ravine just visible through the trees. It was the only clue that had led him here. He started walking toward it.
“Are you sure this time?” Gideon grumbled, falling into step behind him. They had already been on two wild goose chases.
Zane used the short walk to organize his thoughts, the sound of Gideon’s footsteps a steady rhythm behind him. The Labyrinth of Echoes. A mid-game dungeon. The reward for clearing it is an item called ‘Nexus Ring.’ Once I have that, I’m done here.
He recalled the layout he had traversed hundreds of times in Aethelgards Bane and moved without hesitation. Soon, they stood at the edge of the ravine.
“…This place feels wrong,” Gideon said, his voice low.
He wasn’t wrong. The ravine was small, but it radiated an unnerving aura. Though the sun was high overhead, the gash in the earth was steeped in a profound darkness, as if the light itself was being repelled. The sight put Gideon on high alert, his hand drifting toward his sword.
“Let’s go.”
“Young Master?!”
For Zane, however, the unnatural gloom was a confirmation. It was identical to the field effect of the Labyrinth of Echoes. He stepped into the darkness without a second thought, his heart filled with a quiet thrill.
Gideon watched him go, his expression a mixture of shock and resignation, before plunging in after him.
The moment they entered, the sun vanished as if it had never been. The air grew cool and still. In the deep shadows, they could make out stones scattered about, etched with patterns that were clearly artificial. Zane walked past them until he saw it: an entrance set into the rock, a doorway to absolute blackness, its frame covered in swirling carvings.
He stopped, staring at the door he had only ever seen on a screen.
“How did you know this place was here?” Gideon asked, his voice hushed.
“I’ve been here often.”
“What?”
Realizing his mistake, Zane quickly backtracked. “A joke.”
“…A joke?” Gideon’s brow furrowed. “With that face, it didn’t sound like one. So, how did you know?”
“I have my ways.”
“For someone with ‘ways,’ it certainly took you long enough to find it.”
“…I didn’t expect it to take this long, either,” Zane admitted, a fleeting image of the game map flashing through his mind.
Gideon wasn’t finished. “So who made this place? It’s unsettling.”
“A man named Maelor.”
The Labyrinth of Echoes. Zane remembered some of the old online forums calling it Maelor’s Water Rocket Labyrinth. The name had never made much sense.
“Maelor?”
“Let’s go in.” Zane ignored the question and strode toward the entrance. Gideon, looking tense, followed close behind.
Soon, the entrance to the labyrinth was empty once more.
A horrifying shriek tore through the stone chamber, followed by the wet crackle and crunch of shattering bone. A Abyssal Gargoyle, a monster that shouldn’t be encountered until well into the mid-game of Aethelgards Bane, was being slowly ground to dust, pinned beneath a massive stone block that had dropped from the ceiling.
Gideon stared, his face pale.
“Oh…”
To see such a powerful creature, something he knew he could never defeat alone, die so futilely was enough to shake the hard-won composure of a seasoned mercenary. But what truly made his heart hammer against his ribs was the knowledge that identical blocks of stone were hanging directly over their heads.
How can he be so calm?
Gideon’s gaze flickered to Zane. If they failed to solve a single one of these puzzles, they would end up just like that gargoyle. Yet Zane’s expression was as placid as ever. He simply stood there, waiting for the next door to open, completely unfazed.
Watching him, Gideon’s long-held curiosity burned brighter. In the four years he had served the young magician, he’d learned next to nothing. Normally, even the most enigmatic person revealed something of themselves over time.
Gideon had been Zane’s hands in the world. He’d rescued orphans. He’d dismantled criminal syndicates. He’d freed a slave girl, paid an old man’s debts, and delivered cryptic messages to strangers. The list of tasks was endless and bewildering.
Yet for all that, he still didn’t know Zane. None of the tasks had ever offered a hint of his master’s true purpose. The only common thread was a sustained interest in some of the children they’d saved, whom Zane would quietly see placed in well-funded orphanages. Beyond that, everything was a mystery.
How did a young man who had supposedly never left the Valerius estate know of a place like this? How did he understand the lethal mechanisms of this labyrinth so perfectly that he could walk through it with such confidence?
Despite his suspicions, Gideon had developed a strange and powerful trust in Zane. It was a trust born from the simple fact that Zane’s bizarre errands, whatever their intent, always seemed to result in some measurable good. It was enough to make him follow his master into this deathtrap.
What in the world is he preparing for?
The trust didn’t extinguish the questions. Gideon watched Zane with a mixture of awe and intrigue as the young master calmly surveyed their surroundings.
…I think I’m going to be sick.
In truth, Zane was forcing himself to look anywhere but at the gargoyle’s mangled remains.
I knew it was gruesome, but seeing it for real is something else…
Screeeech.
The sound of a stone door grinding open pulled him from his thoughts. He let out a quiet sigh. This was why he’d dared to enter the Labyrinth of Echoes despite his lack of combat prowess. He knew the way through.
It’s been easy enough, thanks to that.
The labyrinth was comprised of eight rooms, each sealed by a puzzle. Solving it opened the way forward. Failure meant death. Zane remembered every single solution perfectly. No Aethelgards Bane player could ever forget them. This was one of the few dungeons that could be entered repeatedly without collecting the final reward, making it the perfect spot for grinding levels. Zane had run this place countless times.
He had memorized it all. Reaching the end was a simple matter of going through the motions.
Dragging the emotionally exhausted Gideon behind him, Zane entered the final chamber. It was a small, bare room. In the center, an old table stood, and upon it rested a single ring. It was utterly plain, exuding no magical aura. Anyone else would have been disappointed.
But Zane smiled. This was it. The Nexus Ring. The lack of a flashy appearance didn’t bother him in the slightest.
“…Huh? Young Master, that ring you were holding…”
The item wasn’t a wearable artifact. It was more like an elixir, meant to be absorbed directly into the user’s body the moment it was equipped.
“We have what we came for. Let’s go.”
The ring had vanished from Zane’s hand. Gideon, startled, saw his master turn to leave as if their business was concluded. Still looking dumbfounded, he hurried to follow. As they stepped back out into the ravine, the labyrinth’s entrance sealed shut behind them with a final, echoing thud.
But they were not alone.
“…Did you foresee this as well?” Gideon asked, his voice tight.
Where there had been only scattered piles of rock, now stood an army. Humanoid golems, weapons in hand, were arrayed for battle.
“These golems… they’re the stones we saw earlier.” Realization dawned on Gideon, and he drew his sword, body tensing for a fight.
“I’ll handle this,” Zane said calmly.
“Huh?”
Before Gideon could even form a question, Zane spoke, his voice carrying a new resonance.
“The Nexus Ring is now in effect.”
Seated in the carriage returning to the Valdris ducal estate, Fiora let out a long sigh. She stared at the distant manor, her reflection in the glass showing a face etched with despair. A bitter, self-mocking smile touched her lips.
I was a fool. Just as I thought.
Her mind returned to the man she’d met at the ball. Zane, the third son of the Valerius family. That was merely his public identity. The rumors that whispered through the nobility painted a different picture: a ruthless mastermind who had killed his two older brothers, both major figures in the underworld, and annihilated the Cerberus organization in a single night. He was the true power of the Valerius family, hiding his fangs until the time was right.
It’s not just a rumor.
Having met him, Fiora knew it was the truth. The chilling self-control he possessed was not something an ordinary person could muster.
It was almost like looking at Father…
She thought of the Duke Valois, a man called the “Noble One,” who played the Royalist and Aristocratic factions against each other like chess pieces. A man one must never, ever cross. Her father never betrayed an emotion, his judgment always glacial and precise.
She had seen that same coldness in Zane’s eyes five days ago. That was why she had clung to him, her last hope. And she had failed.
Honestly, she wasn’t surprised. The moment she’d met his gaze, she knew he was not a man to be swayed by appeals to sympathy or pity. And yet, sympathy and pity were all she had to offer. She possessed nothing else. Her power was a phantom, an illusion maintained by her father’s mercy and affection. Every time she tried to grasp something real, her grasping, odious relatives would tear it from her hands.
She was powerless. And a powerless person could not seize a lifeline. Or perhaps, she was the only one who had seen it as such. No one would make a deal where the risks so obviously outweighed the rewards.
Ha.
It was a lie to say she didn’t understand. She had fought for years against her well-equipped relatives just to secure her own position. Though not yet an adult, she knew the cold arithmetic of the world all too well. Every relationship was a transaction, every story a ledger of gains and losses.
“Good things will happen.”
Fiora stared out the window, Zane’s seemingly empty words echoing in her mind.
Thirty minutes later, she stepped into the grand foyer of her home.
“…What did you just say?”
“Lady Elara and Lord Torvin… they have passed away!” a maid stammered, her face ashen. “They took their own lives!”
Fiora stared, perplexed. She retreated to her room, the news of her siblings’ suicides echoing in her ears. The two who had tormented her most. It was baffling. Her detestable family members were more likely to stab each other in the back for a pittance than to ever commit suicide. It made no sense.
This is absurd.
She was certain some scheme was afoot. And then, she remembered the words of the third son of the Valerius family.
No.
“Good things will happen.”
She recalled the promise from the true mastermind, the man who had supposedly killed his own siblings to become his family’s heir.
A cold dread, sharp as ice, ran down her spine.