Chapter 11: Reflection: Thoughts of the Labyrinth of Immortality
I’ve often talked about carelessness, impatience, and loneliness. But in the end, those are just excuses when it comes to exploring the Labyrinth.
To venture forth in such a state, I can’t help but admit that I was overly optimistic.
Deep down, I harbored the thought that “like before, I’ll somehow manage this time too.” Looking back now, that wasn’t just arrogance; it was a complete abandonment of thought.
In the innermost chamber of the Labyrinth of Immortality stood a pitiful Living Dead.
It looked so frail that I thought it might fall over if I pushed it. My prediction was spot on. I cut it down with a single strike.
Was this really the boss? I felt a sense of anticlimax as I turned my back on the Living Dead, now split in two, ready to return—when suddenly,
Splish splash—
I heard something squirming and crawling.
When I turned around, the Living Dead, which I had thought was severed from the waist down, was slowly rising again, sword pointed in my direction.
A bad feeling washed over me.
I immediately lunged forward and cut the Living Dead in half once more.
Yet that ominous feeling didn’t fade. For me, such feelings often turned out to be true. The Living Dead rose again, having revived twice, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I couldn’t believe it.
A cold sweat trickled down my spine. It stood up for the third time. Then the fourth. The fifth.
It rose again for the sixth, seventh, and eighth times.
A chill ran down my back. In an attempt to resolve the situation, I unleashed magic to turn it to ash so it couldn’t revive, but that too was futile. The ash gathered and restored itself into flesh, and the Living Dead was reborn. No matter how many times I tried, it was always the same.
Moreover, the situation was not just stagnant; it was steadily worsening.
Each time the Living Dead fell, it felt like it was growing slightly stronger.
How strong could it possibly get? That question crossed my mind.
On the seventy-seventh attempt, the Living Dead, which I had previously cut down with ease, managed to parry my sword just once.
By the hundredth attempt, it still wouldn’t end. I had to accept the reality as I watched the Living Dead rise without a scratch.
This was no ordinary Living Dead. It was a Reverse Dead, growing stronger each time it fell.
On the one hundred and fourteenth attempt, the Reverse Dead began to clash swords with me more than twice.
The unpleasant visions in my mind wouldn’t disappear. I slashed at the Reverse Dead repeatedly, cutting and cutting without pause.
And then, on the five hundred twenty-fifth attempt, I cleaved the Reverse Dead from above, targeting its collarbone. It was no longer as easy as it sounded. That monster had transformed into a master-level creature after its intense power-ups.
Breathing heavily, I endured the pain from my cut side and gulped down a potion.
On the seven hundred fortieth attempt, I bisected the Reverse Dead with a powerful strike down the middle. A dreadful premonition gripped me, fearing I would run out of potions. I wished with all my heart that it wouldn’t rise again. But my wish was in vain; the Reverse Dead revived once more.
From that point on, I began to conserve potions for life-threatening injuries and faced the Reverse Dead head-on.
On the eight hundredth attempt, I was finally pushed to the brink where conserving mana was no longer an option. To escape the dire situation, I used Light Magic to break free, but from then on, I switched to attacking with magic that exploited the Reverse Dead’s weaknesses, like the Condenser and Rain. It was a bitter choice, but the strategy proved effective.
And then, on the thousandth attempt, the Reverse Dead stood up as expected, and I unleashed a powered-up Condenser against it.
In that instant, my blood ran cold. The long-range Light Magic that had been effective until now no longer worked.
Whether it had learned from my attacks, gained resistance from repeated Light Magic, or if it was a result of the number of revivals, I couldn’t tell. But from that moment on, my long-range Light Magic was rendered nearly ineffective against the Reverse Dead.
Thus, I was once again forced to change my tactics. To survive from here, I needed to take desperate measures.
For the next half hour, I fought for my life against the Reverse Dead, testing various possibilities. I barely discovered that pouring Light Magic into the Holy Sword, creating the Cyalume, was effective compared to a regular sword—thereafter, attacking with the Cyalume became the standard approach.
And then, on the thousandth attempt, the Reverse Dead had finally become a swordsman who could match me.
At this point, our sword skills were evenly matched. However, in terms of sheer strength, I still had the upper hand. I had the advantage of using the Cyalume, which was the Reverse Dead’s weakness, and my physical abilities honed through countless training sessions.
If that was the case, I could push through with my physical prowess and perhaps whittle down the Reverse Dead until I could defeat it—this was my last glimmer of hope.
However, on the thousand and first attempt, that hope crumbled like a house of cards.
At first, I thought it was just my imagination. But after crossing swords, I realized.
Unlike the simple and slight physical enhancements before, the Reverse Dead’s physique felt slightly larger.
In proportion, its sword strikes had become heavier.
Physical enhancement—just how much larger could it grow?
The thousand attempts to defeat the Reverse Dead—it was not hell, but merely the entrance to hell.
On the thousand and first attempt.
On the thousand and second attempt.
On the thousand and third attempt.
My wounds were steadily increasing. My limit was drawing near.
Meanwhile, the Reverse Dead, which had originally been shorter than me, had now surpassed my height. Yet it didn’t stop there; its physical enhancement continued unabated. The Reverse Dead’s relentless growth meant that I now had to look up to see its face.
On the thousand and fiftieth attempt.
Before me, the Reverse Dead had not only grown in size but had also taken on a massive physique reminiscent of a Greek sculpture. Its deep-set, beautifully powerful muscles rippled.
Boom!! The air was sliced apart.
“Ugh!!”
The strongest blow yet struck me. The weight and speed of the attack were unprecedented. Yet somehow, I gritted my teeth and deflected it with the Holy Sword.
The ever-strengthening Reverse Dead—I found myself in a situation where I couldn’t afford to show even a single opening, and I was becoming mentally and physically exhausted.
The fear that a momentary lapse in judgment could lead to a fatal injury. Driven by that fear, I repeatedly told myself to stay calm. Losing my composure would mean I wouldn’t make it back alive.
How long had I been fighting in such an extreme state? Even so, I managed to narrowly slice through the Reverse Dead.
And then—
I can still vividly recall it.
The fateful thousand and fifty-first attempt.
The gradually worsening tide suddenly transformed into a raging current.
First, the potions I had thought would last forever dwindled down to just one remaining.
Not only that, but I was finally forced to use my last trump card, the Out Strider del Sole.
The Reverse Dead, having undergone layer upon layer of enhancements, swung its sword at a speed that was almost equal to mine, if not faster, despite its massive size.
The Out Strider del Sole—my trump card.
A final measure boasting strength that wouldn’t allow anyone to approach me.
As expected, with this technique, even the enhanced Reverse Dead could be easily repelled.
However, there was one concern. The unusual consumption of mana that made this technique so inefficient.
That was the reason I had refrained from using this technique against the formidable foe known as the Reverse Dead until now.
So, I found myself compelled to improvise and overcome the weakness of poor mana efficiency.
It was a simple choice between a flash of inspiration or death.
Yet, I emerged victorious in this gamble. Amidst the frantic thoughts while exchanging life-or-death sword strikes with the Reverse Dead, a faint spark of insight flickered within me. All I needed was to activate the Out Strider del Sole for just a brief moment during our clash.
This proved effective. I successfully reduced my mana consumption significantly and, seizing the opportunity, I unleashed Hyper Acceleration to slice through the Reverse Dead one after another.
After finishing the 1079th defeat, I waited as usual for the seemingly endless regeneration of the Reverse Dead to conclude—at least, that was the plan.
My mistake was assuming that “this time, the regeneration would be exactly the same.”
And this was the turning point of fate.
The 1080th time.
It was the moment I took a breath, waiting for the Reverse Dead’s regeneration to finish. That’s when I sensed a presence behind me.
For some reason, the regeneration occurred behind me—at a speed far beyond anything I had encountered before.
By the time I turned around, it was already too late.
I was ambushed from behind, and my arms were severed clean off.
Without my arms, recovery was impossible. It finally dawned on me, but regret was futile. I looked up to the heavens and thought, “Ah, everyone…”
The sword wielded by the Reverse Dead pierced my chest in the shortest distance possible.
There were no visions of my life flashing before my eyes, nor any slow-motion phenomena.