Gauss stared at the pallid figure before him—the very sight of it exuding invisible pressure—drew a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down.

It was a monster he had never seen before.

He couldn’t even name it.

Color seemed to have been leeched from the space around it, leaving only a chilling white.

Broadly, its form was humanoid.

“Broadly” because its upper body still vaguely held a female outline.

A pale carapace covered it head to toe; across the chest was a humanlike, full, upthrust curve; white hair hung down; a pair of dead eyes stared unblinking at the two of them. Atop its head, two small, slightly curved horns added a hint of inhuman allure.

Its arms were long and slender, fingers white and smooth as jade—yet along the forearms grew blades fused with the bone itself, and those blades shimmered with a cold, floating light.

It was that terrible weapon that had just struck Alia.

Most unusual of all, its lower body had no legs at all, but three pairs of thin, jointed, spiderlike limbs.

Those needle-sharp tips bit into the slick ground without shifting an inch, showing astonishing balance and traction.

A heaviness formed in Gauss’s chest.

This was only the Second Level of the labyrinth—how could something of this tier appear here?

By his senses, the threat radiating from it was at least challenge rating 3, perhaps higher.

Yet for some reason, its killing urge wasn’t strong.

After batting Gauss away, it simply halted, its body clicking faintly.

The two sides faced each other across the gap. The air felt congealed.

Alia stared at the pale, puppetlike creature.

She touched the back of her neck, cold sweat running—the icy touch there seemed to linger.

Even with the Omni-Armor on her, a ward has its limits—and it had struck at the body’s most vulnerable point.

If Gauss hadn’t reacted so fast…

Or rather, if her teammate hadn’t been Gauss… the result—

“Whew…” The smooth windfall of the past days’ delve—the cheer of rich hauls—was blown away by the brush with death.

This was the labyrinth.

Opportunity and death side by side; some rise here, others sleep here forever.

She swallowed, gripped her oak staff, edged back a few steps, and drew closer to Gauss.

“Careful,” Gauss warned.

“Mm.”

That said, he fixed his full attention on the foe before them.

To be honest, something about its look felt familiar.

Thinking back, it resembled, in part, the wraith silhouettes from last night.

The wraiths’ shapes had leaned more human; this one leaned more insect. But overall there was a shared style to their appearance.

He shifted one step to the left, experimentally.

“Skrrt.”

Almost in sync, the spiderlike sentinel slid a step or two the same way.

Gauss stopped; it stopped.

That eerie synchrony made it seem less a living thing than a programmed killing puppet.

Gauss frowned.

If he could help it, he didn’t want to fight here, in such cramped quarters.

The terrain perfectly suited those agile legs—and badly cramped a “do-it-all” like him.

He needed room to cast; most of his spells worked best at some distance. Too close, and the blast from his own magic could catch him as well.

Worse, by his senses the enemy was at least rating 3, maybe above.

He was only Level 2; though his layered buffs put his fighting strength well above a typical 2, going head-to-head with a monster that outmatched most ordinary Level 3 professionals—he might manage in the short term.

Drag it out, and he’d likely lose.

“Do we fight?” Alia asked, gripping her staff, serious-faced, breathing deep.

She’d noticed that eerie synchronization too.

If Gauss chose to stand and fight, she’d force herself through the fear and join him—even if that distant figure’s mere presence pressed on her chest.

Gauss glanced at her and saw the solemn look that said she would stake her life at his side.

He shook his head; his tone made calm come unbidden.

“Relax—we’re not at that point.”

“How about this: I’ll hold it, and you mount Ulfen. You and Echo head back the way we came,” Gauss said quickly. “I’ll shake it and meet you later.”

“W—what? No.” Alia’s eyes went wide. “I’m not abandoning a teammate to save my own skin.”

“If you’re fighting this thing, then I’m with you!” she said, firm. “I may not help much—but I can at least slow it down.”

She thought he meant to sacrifice himself to cover her retreat. A nameless emotion welled in her chest; her eyes prickled.

“You… what are you doing?” Gauss said helplessly. “It’s fine. You go first.”

“Don’t worry—I’m not playing hero.”

“I have this.” He flipped his hand and pulled a scroll of teleportation from his pouch.

“If it goes bad, I’ll use it and get out,” he said, matter-of-fact.

“R—really?” Alia’s gaze dropped to the familiar scroll in his palm.

The sigils on the surface were unmistakably those of a teleport scroll.

She had feelings about those.

After all, their first real meeting in the Jade Forest had been when a mage on her team used one to run, leaving her to scramble out of a mission gone wrong.

She’d never forgotten what a teleport scroll looked like. It left a shadow in the back of her mind.

At the very start with Gauss she’d worried he’d whip one out mid-fight against an enemy he couldn’t beat and vanish—

—and leave her to face it alone.

She hadn’t expected it: Gauss did have a teleport scroll.

But unlike that earlier teammate, his scroll was ballast to reassure her retreat.

So the problem wasn’t the scroll—it was the one who used it.

“Then hurry and find me after,” Alia urged, still uneasy. “And don’t be stingy with the scroll—if you have to use it, we’ll split the cost later.”

She was afraid he’d try to save a coin and end up in trouble, so she added it on purpose.

“Mm.” Gauss nodded. “Watch my signal. When I call it, we move—you go straight for Ulfen and don’t look back.”

“Understood.”

Gauss drew a deep breath.

He stowed the steel longsword and the bone staff, and drew the Unbreaking Staff instead.

Its dense weight and the solid set in his grip were reassuring.

That was why he chose it now.

The brief exchange had told him enough about the foe: it was bigger, and its strength clearly exceeded his. A steel longsword was the wrong tool for that.

And the Unbreaking Staff enhanced the Omni-Armor as well.

His gaze hardened; he breathed once more, and in an instant his resolve locked in.