Chapter 33

“The essential elements of a labyrinth are a maze, treasure, and a monster to act as its master.”

“Forgive me, but I couldn’t disagree more.”

“Why’s that? You’re saying it can be a labyrinth without those three?”

“Of course, my young friend. In my opinion, there is only one element that truly makes a labyrinth. As long as you have that, a labyrinth exists. It is the human being who gets lost within it.”

—Quarible Quabatta
From The Failure of the Minotaur

It was a place that resembled a ruin.

Sand, soil, and rock. Amidst them lay a shattered stone floor.

Scowling, a lone man walked across the grounds.

As he looked down at the broken stone beneath his feet, his grimace deepened.

His black boots were caked in sand, and the cloak wrapped around him fluttered in the grit-laden wind.

“An underground labyrinth, is it?”

Muttering to himself, the man approached the damaged floor.

As he drew closer, it became clear that the stone was no ordinary flooring. Peeking out from between the sand and earth, the surface was as flat and smooth as a blade. It was a perfect artifact, distinctly different from the natural stones scattered about.

The dark blue stone—hard as metal and slick as the surface of water—was polished enough to serve as a mirror.

However, a large fissure had split that stone floor. In fact, a portion of it had completely collapsed.

The man approached the broken section and peered into the crevice that had formed there.

Nothing but darkness stared back from the crack. Beyond it lay a void.

“…Hah.”

His scowl vanished, replaced by a sudden grin, though the laughter behind it felt hollow.

He slipped his cloaked body into the crevice and, without a moment’s hesitation, dropped into the darkness.

The void wasn’t as deep as he had expected; he landed almost immediately.

The man pulled a torch from within his clothes.

He struck a flame.

“This is…”

A whisper escaped his lips.

The interior illuminated by the fire was in a wretched state, choked with soil and stone that had poured in through the cracks.

It wasn’t just the ceiling he had entered through; the walls and floor were spiderwebbed with fractures, teetering on the edge of total collapse.

Debris, earth, sand, and rock.

Looking at the scene—which could only be described as a complete ruin—the man knit his brows.

“…Heh.”

Eventually, a smile spread across his face.

Yet, it was by no means a smile born of happiness or amusement.

If one were to put it simply, what resided there was nothing but…

Pure malice.