11 – Siren 3

Lowest-Rank Sword Expert.

The stage at which a swordsman is recognized, and when one can cut down things beyond common sense.

According to Lorraine, the moment one reaches Lowest-Rank Sword Expert, one can fulfill their role and gain recognition from everyone.

…Which, put another way, meant that once one reached this level, most threats would no longer pose a significant problem.

“Ggh… Gghuk. Hukk.”

A protective spell must have activated before my hammer struck, because his head was severely damaged, but he wasn’t dead.

I stomped on the black mage lying on the ground and surveyed the surroundings.

‘Looks like a security protocol has been triggered.’

A magic formula that activates when the owner suffers a fatal wound or is forced into unconsciousness.

I’m seeing it directly for the first time, but thanks to Lorraine’s detailed explanation, I know what it is.

“…Die… Die…”

“Dare…? Dare…? Dare…?”

“Hu…Human… Ea… Eat. Hu…Human.”

It was a magic that immediately activated all the protective measures a mage or black mage had built up.

I watched as monsters, gruesomely disfigured and grasping human corpses, emerged from the shadows.

Forms crudely mixing human and monster.

Too twisted to be called human, yet retaining enough of a human shape to be considered a monster.

Watching them, I brought my hammer down on the black mage’s head once more, then turned and walked away.

‘At least ten foes.’

The number might yet swell, as not all the chimeras were unleashed as of yet.

Bearing this in mind, I resolved to fight, grasping the mace hanging at my hip.

Unlike a hand hammer, the mace differed greatly in length and weight, altering its manner of use.

Where the hammer was light and swift of strike, the mace was a weapon of might, bearing a heavy risk.

Thus, a failed strike left one vulnerable to danger in turn.

…Even so, a successful strike would yield a destructive force unattainable with a hand hammer.

I burst the skull of the chimera at the very front with the mace, just so.

This was in the most literal sense.

The moment a heavy, dull sound echoed, the chimera’s flesh and blue blood splattered, staining all around.

Thus, confirming that “burst” was a more fitting term than “smashed,” I averted my gaze.

“D, dying…die.”

“S, save…”

Even a chimera, crudely pieced together from various living things, seemed to possess instinct.

Reacting in terror at the instant death of its kin, it stumbled backward.

Witnessing this spectacle, I slowly advanced, intending to eradicate them all, when suddenly…

“Ggrrrk.”

A monster housed in a large iron cage to the side, exhaled a deep breath, striking the bars with its forepaw, issuing a threat to me.

*Kwaang, kwaaang, kwaang!*

Being within the sewers, tremors surged up my legs with each powerful strike of the monster’s paw.

Judging that the sewer’s purification system was likely to collapse if things continued this way, I resolved to deal with it first.

‘Break the cage and charge in? Or choose another method?’

Time was not abundant; I needed to choose quickly, or so I thought.

When, atop my shoulder, the sun spirit absorbed all the surrounding mana.

And then, unleashed a torrent of fire into the massive iron cage.

Pure fire, capable of melting all.

Ordinary flames could scarcely melt even the cage, let alone the monster.

But the fire emanating from the sun spirit diverged from ordinary flames, melting everything swiftly, making it all vanish.

Not even a trace of acrid smoke remained; all had disappeared.

Gazing at the enormous iron cage and the chimera within, which had vanished without a trace, leaving no sign they had ever existed, I gave the spirit an awkward stroke.

“… Well done.”

“Myaong!”

Until now, it had only received help in creating warmth, hadn’t it.

The spirit of the sun was described in the original text as being on par with ancient dragons, considered the most powerful.

Why such a being ended up trapped in the northern glacier was unknown, but the important fact was that this spirit was wholly assisting me.

Satisfied, I nodded and scanned my surroundings.

It seemed experiments had been carried out here for quite some time, as the experimental equipment and structures appeared worn.

Considering this, I thought it best to bring Lorraine, who was waiting at the entrance, in preparation for any unforeseen circumstances, and as I moved to do so, I beheld.

A mountain, a truly accurate description, made up of the corpses of easily over a hundred chimeras.

Lorraine, expressionless, flicked the blue blood from her sword, tidying the scene.

She looked at me, offering a small smile, and waved.

“Ah, Master. I was waiting for you.”

She slowly approached me, surveying the area.

“Not long after you went inside, enemies began to swarm. Judging by the fact that there weren’t any particularly strong ones, it seems they were just the tail end.”

“Tail end?”

“Hmm, how should I explain this? When lizards sense danger, they cut off their tails and run, right? Like that, dark mages create tails they can abandon at any time, in case of emergencies. Taking that into account and looking at the current situation, I’d say they created this place to be something they could discard at any time.”

The moment I heard Lorraine’s words, a hypothesis formed in my mind.

Could it be that the reason this place was set up like a trap was a double-layered snare, meant to lure the weak inside and push away those with quick wits?

To put it more precisely, ordinary people rarely investigate the surroundings as they enter, so they would be drawn inside.

Whereas to those who were entering while ‘investigating’, the trap would give them a sense of alarm, making them retreat instead.

‘And when those who had been lingering for investigation returned…’

It seemed they intended to close this place immediately and flee.

But because I charged straight in without hesitation, they missed their chance to escape.

‘So, the self-proclaimed friend was trying to survive at all costs, separating Lorraine and me, and then using that to get away…’

But because I brought the hammer down on his head, all his plans came to nothing.

And putting it another way, that meant there was a high probability that useful information still remained inside, so I decided to explore.

“Lorraine, I’m going to explore inside the sewer, so please come with me.”

“Yes.”

Lorraine, having wiped all the blood from her sword, approached me and posed a question.

“By the way, Master, was the fighting manageable?”

… Judging by how directly she used the word “battle,” she must have been constantly assessing my condition.

Recalling the significant distance between where I fought and this place, I was once again reminded that Lorraine was a monster.

I then discovered a peculiar staircase leading downwards.

“Hmm, too obvious. Considering the nature of dark mages, this feels like a trap… the real thing is likely hidden elsewhere.”

Still, just in case this really *was* the true passage.

I picked up a corpse – one who used to be a dark mage – and tossed it down. From beneath the stairs came the sound of flesh tearing apart.

“A trap it is.”

“Yes. Considering that dark mages are the type to live in the shadows, they would never create an obvious entrance. This staircase is likely a lie.”

If not there, then where should I go?

As I was examining my surroundings, I noticed the spirit of the sun, gazing at one wall while letting out a *myang myang*.

Seeing this, I realized something was hidden there. I stroked the spirit’s head, then raised my mace.

Without hesitation, I brought the mace down on the wall. With a shattering sound, like glass breaking, an entrance appeared.

Realizing this was the place the dark mage had so desperately tried to conceal, I slowly moved forward.

*

A filthy corridor, littered with all kinds of bloodstains.

Judging by the numerous fingernail scratches along the lower part of the corridor walls.

The dark mage must have dragged living sacrifices this way.

Following this disgusting path – a generous description, even – I came upon something.

A grotesque mass of flesh, a mountain of human corpses and monster carcasses.

‘…Just how long has he been creating something like this?’

Not just bizarre, but utterly revolting.

Wrinkling my nose, I saw that the mass of flesh was being preserved by something, perhaps dark magic, preventing it from rotting.

Then, from inside an iron cage, I heard a faint rustling sound.

“Young Master.”

If even Lorraine, usually so composed, was drawing her sword and becoming wary, then something considerably problematic must exist here.

I nodded towards Lorraine.

After scanning for an escape route, just in case, I headed towards the source of the sound.

“…”

A faint, sobbing breath, almost a whimper, echoed from the blood-soaked walls, permeating the surroundings.

Hearing that unnervingly eerie sound, I reached the source and saw a slender, snow-white girl, bound in shackles.

A girl, slumped like a marionette, staring blankly into the void, her face a mask of utter surrender.

Even just that was unsettling enough.

But the sight of her connected to a colossal mass of flesh by shackles amplified the strangeness tenfold.

“…I’ve seen this before, somewhere.”

If I only wracked my brain a little harder, it felt like the memory would surface. I narrowed my eyes, trying to grasp it, but it remained elusive.

Unable to place it, I summoned a solar spirit to my palm and approached her, a peculiar sense of déjà vu washing over me.

[I’ve stumbled upon a rather fascinating research project recently. It’s about transforming human negative emotions into curses, quite intriguing, you see.]

Negative emotions… and curses.

The moment those words echoed in my mind, I felt my blood run cold, and her identity clicked into place.

… The ultimate curse, born from the swallowed despair of thousands.

Archmage Siren.