Gary turned around, his eyes searching for the person who had just run him through.
"Stieg...?! What is the meaning of this?! I am... an executive... of the Cult...!"
The man called Stieg spoke with a smile so clear it was almost refreshing.
"To be precise, you were promised a recommendation for an executive position if you completed your orders, weren't you? You are not an executive yet. Please, stop lying."
Gary tried to retort, but blood spilled from his lips, choking his words before they could form.
Seeing his struggle, Stieg’s smile deepened as he continued.
"Regardless, you’ve been a help. It would have been a hassle to come up with an excuse after disposing of you myself. I suppose I should thank you for having such a loose tongue. Now then, since I have my justification for the execution, please... just die."
With that cold declaration, Stieg twisted the blade still buried in Gary’s torso and ripped it out with a violent flourish.
Losing his only support, Gary collapsed. Blood sprayed from the wounds in his chest and back as he crumpled to the floor.
"…Aren't you comrades?" I demanded, my voice trembling with rage.
"I beg your pardon?" Stieg asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"I asked if he wasn't your comrade!"
"Me? Comrades with this? Please, stop. Even as a joke, it's humiliating to be told such a fool is my peer."
While answering me, Stieg stepped on the head of the fallen Gary. He casually wiped the blood from his blade with a cloth before storing the weapon back into his storage magic tool.
Watching him, I felt a wave of nausea. He had just ended a human life, yet he looked as if he felt no more emotion than if he’d stepped on a bug.
"…Do you even have a human heart?"
"Hahaha. You say the most interesting things. There's no way I’d have such a thing, now is there?"
"……I see. I understand perfectly now. The Cult really is nothing but a collection of the lowest scum!"
I immediately unleashed [Gravity Manipulation], intensifying the weight of the world exactly where Stieg stood. I pinned him with enough force that he should have struggled to even lift an arm, let alone move.
Without a second’s delay, I flooded mana into the spell formula I’d constructed in my mind.
"[Fire Javelin]!"
Four spears of flame manifested, lunging at Stieg from all sides to pincer him.
Faced with the incoming attack, Stieg let out a soft, bored "Hmm…"
Even if my spears avoided his vitals, being pierced and scorched by that kind of heat wouldn't leave him unscathed. Or so I thought.
Instead, his expression turned to one of utter boredom. As if the crushing gravity were nothing but a light breeze, he casually brought his right hand up to his chest.
As he opened his palm upward, the [Fire Javelin] suddenly veered off course, their trajectories warping toward his hand. As they drew closer to him, the spears lost their definition, dissolving until they were nothing more than a flickering, docile flame dancing on his palm.
"I don't suppose you seriously thought you could neutralize me with such child's play, did you?"
Stieg clenched his fist, and the flickering flame vanished into nothingness.
"……"
I couldn't find the words to answer him. All I could do was watch his every movement with absolute, desperate focus. Every instinct I possessed screamed that if I made a clumsy move, I’d be dead before I hit the ground. Cold sweat rolled down my cheek.
He was right; I hadn't truly expected that attack to end it. I’d assumed he would defend himself in some way. I’d planned to use the opening while he dealt with the spears to close the distance and restrain him.
But I hadn't moved a single inch. It wasn't just that Stieg’s movements were flawless; it was the phenomenon itself. I had never seen anything like it.
It was obvious Stieg had done something to strip the spears of their form and reduce them to mere fire. But there was no sign of him using a magic tool, and my gut told me it wasn't an ability. Usually, when I saw something I didn't recognize, an ability was involved. This time, my intuition said otherwise.
Simply put, magic is the phenomenon of mana executing an order called a spell formula. What I had just witnessed felt as though he had forcibly overwritten the orders given to the mana—as if he were interfering with it through a different law entirely.
The strangest part was that I felt like I knew that law.
The answer felt like it was on the tip of my tongue, yet something was blocking it. As if to warn me off, the more I tried to think about the phenomenon, the more a fog rolled into my mind, bringing with it a sharp, throbbing headache.
Right now, thanks to [Culmination], my five senses were sharper than they had ever been. And yet, I hadn't sensed Stieg’s presence until the moment he appeared. Even now, with him standing right in front of me, his presence felt thin—ethereal.
Between that and his ability to neutralize my magic... everything about this man was outside the realm of my understanding.
Does the Cult really harbor monsters like this?
"I see, I see. So it’s distorted to this extent, is it? Well, I suppose I can understand the urge to make use of it."
"…What are you talking about?"
"It doesn't concern you, so don't worry your head about it. Now then, my business here is concluded. I’ll be taking my leave."
"You think I’m just going to let you walk away?"
"I’d recommend against trying to stop me. As you are now, you couldn't stop me even if the heavens and earth were turned upside down. Deep down, you already know that, don't you? Even if you don't understand why, your intuition does."
"…Gh…"
"A wise decision. Ah, right. I should give this back to you."
Before I even realized he’d moved, Stieg tossed a small, red, stone-like object toward me.
I reflexively reached for it, but a split second before my fingers closed around it, a violent chill raced up my spine. Trusting that alarm, I threw up a magic barrier instead.
The red stone detonated instantly.
I avoided a direct hit, but the shockwave and a wall of heat slammed into me. Only then did I realize what that red stone had been. It was my own [Fire Javelin], compressed and solidified. There was no mistake; the way the mana dispersed was exactly like a Heavenly Flash.
I used wind-type magic to blow away the smoke and dust. When the air cleared, both Stieg and the Dungeon Core were gone.
I scanned the room, but I couldn't feel even a trace of his presence. Whether he was truly gone or just hiding, I couldn't say. But I knew one thing: if he had truly intended to kill me, I’d be a corpse right now. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but the gap between us was undeniable.
"…Dammit."
I forced down the negative emotions swirling inside me and walked over to what remained of Gary.
Death is common in the Labyrinth. When a party falls apart, survivors often have to retreat, leaving their fallen comrades behind. Usually, the Labyrinth eventually swallows those bodies, ensuring they aren't left exposed forever. I always thought that was a small mercy, though perhaps that’s just a selfish interpretation by the living.
But this place had already been conquered. It was no longer a functioning Labyrinth. Gary’s body wouldn't be swallowed here.
Anyone siding with the Cyclamen Cult was my enemy, Gary included. But to be betrayed by a comrade and left to rot in the dark was a pitiful end. I wanted to give him a proper burial.
I reached for a large cloth, intending to wrap him up, when—
"——!?"
Something brown and sharp lunged out of the ground near Gary.
Caught off guard, I couldn't dodge completely. The object gouged a deep furrow into my left arm. I kicked off the ground to create distance and immediately began healing the wound with magic.
"A tree... branch?"
From my new vantage point, I saw what had struck me. It looked like a thin branch, but it was rapidly thickening into a trunk. Before my eyes, it transformed into a two-meter-tall shrub.
A tree shouldn't grow like that. There were no tools or spells that could force such rapid growth. But I did know one thing that could do it.
It was the magic used by the Great Snake, the floor boss of the 93rd Floor.
"How is this even possible...?"
I muttered the words, my common sense failing me. Today had been one impossibility after another, but this was perhaps the most jarring.
Gary—who should have been dead—was standing up. He looked limp, as if his bones had turned to lead, but he was standing.
His appearance had warped. His skin was covered in reptilian scales, his mouth was torn open all the way to his cheeks, and his pupils had narrowed into vertical slits like a snake's.
The sudden tree growth, the physical transformation... it all perfectly matched the Great Snake. He was a human who had taken on the traits of a magic beast.
(Is this what they call a 'Majin'?)
For some reason, the word Majin felt hauntingly appropriate.
Stieg had done this. The sword he’d used must have been a magic tool engraved with a formula to turn a human into a Majin.
"Don't you dare mess with me, Cyclamen Cult...! To kill a man and then turn him into a grotesque monster... there's no way such a senseless tragedy should be allowed to stand!"
I yelled at the absurdity of it all.
As if reacting to my voice, the Majin that was once Gary lunged. He moved with a speed that defied his swaying, broken posture, closing the gap in a heartbeat with his jaws gaping wide.