Alon's superficial reason for visiting the Estroban Territory was to foster social ties, but his true motive for traveling over a week to reach this place lay in the labyrinth located to the south.
"…Is this the place you had business in?"
"Yes."
"It took us two weeks to find it, but… there's nothing here, is there?"
As Evan slowly scanned the empty forest, Alon looked around as well.
Indeed, the area consisted of nothing but unpaved roads that seemed neglected for a long time and dense woods. There were no identifying features to speak of.
That's why I went through hell for two weeks.
Alon's expression remained stoic, but internally, he let out a sigh of relief.
It had been two weeks since the ball ended. For nearly twenty days, Alon had stayed in Estroban, investing his time solely into finding this labyrinth.
I underestimated it because it was so easy to find in the game.
With that thought, Alon turned his gaze toward a small canyon visible beyond the trees. He began walking toward the only clue that could lead him to the labyrinth.
"Are you sure this time?"
Having already come up empty-handed twice, Evan followed Alon while muttering with a hint of a grumble.
Sensing Evan's presence behind him, Alon briefly organized his thoughts.
The name of the labyrinth is the 'Labyrinth of Whispers.' It's a dungeon accessible in the mid-game, and the clear reward is the equipment 'Constraint.' Once I get that, my business here is done.
Recalling the characteristics of the labyrinth he had entered hundreds of times in Psychedelia, he walked forward without hesitation. Before long, they arrived at the small canyon beyond the forest.
"…This place looks suspicious to anyone with eyes."
Evan spoke up the moment they arrived.
As he noted, the canyon was small but contained a glaring anomaly. Despite the sun being high in the sky, the interior of the canyon was excessively dark, as if it were actively repelling the sunlight.
While this triggered Evan's instincts for caution and vigilance…
"Let's go."
"Young Master?!"
The phenomenon filled Alon with a sense of triumph. The state of the canyon was identical to the field effect of the Labyrinth of Whispers he had been searching for.
Since this confirmed the labyrinth's location, he stepped into the dark canyon without a second thought. Evan stared at Alon with a startled expression before following him inside, looking as though he had no other choice.
Once they entered, the interior was shrouded in darkness, making the bright sun they had seen moments ago feel like a lie.
"…"
Scattered throughout were piles of stones engraved with various patterns—clearly man-made rather than natural formations. Passing them, Alon soon came upon an entrance submerged in pitch-black darkness.
Alon stared blankly at the door, which was cluttered with various symbols, clearly the work of an artificial hand.
"…How on earth did you know a place like this existed?"
"I used to come here a lot."
"…Pardon?"
Caught in a daze, Alon had accidentally spoken his true thoughts. Realizing his slip of tongue, he quickly corrected himself.
"It was a joke."
"…With that face, it didn't feel like a joke at all. So, how did you really find it?"
"I have my ways."
"For someone with 'ways,' didn't it take a bit too long?"
"…I didn't expect it to take this long either."
As Alon briefly reminisced about his time playing Psychedelia, Evan threw out another question.
"So, who exactly built this creepy place?"
"A friend named Palaon built it."
The Labyrinth of Whispers.
Alon recalled how, in several communities he frequented, it was often mocked as 'Palaon's Water Rocket Labyrinth.'
"…Palaon?"
"Let's go in."
Without answering Evan further, Alon walked toward the entrance. Evan followed, his face filled with anxiety and wariness.
Soon, the entrance to the labyrinth was empty once more.
*
Kieeeeeeeek—!!!!
Crunch! Crackle! Snap!
In terms of Psychedelia's progression, the Hell Gargoyle was a monster one could only kill around the mid-point of the story. Such a powerful creature was now being slowly crushed to death by a massive stone descending from the ceiling, as if caught in a hydraulic press.
Evan looked on with a pale face.
"Ugh…"
Seeing such a formidable monster—one he could never defeat alone—die so helplessly and brutally left a mark even on his mercenary-hardened composure.
However, what made Evan's heart race even faster was the fact that a similar massive stone hung directly over their own heads.
How can the Young Master be like this in a situation like this…?
Evan looked at Alon.
If they failed to answer even a single riddle posed by this labyrinth, they would face the same gruesome death as the gargoyle. Yet, Alon's expression was utterly indifferent. If anything, he seemed to feel no sense of crisis at all, simply waiting for the door to open.
Watching Alon, Evan felt his curiosity about the man grow. Usually, no matter how inscrutable a mage might be, four years of working together would reveal at least a glimpse of their inner thoughts.
Over the past four years, Evan had assisted Alon in many tasks. Sometimes they saved orphans. Sometimes they dismantled evil organizations. Other times, they helped a slave girl, paid off an old man's debt, or delivered seemingly meaningless messages to acquaintances. He had handled all sorts of errands.
Yet, despite all that, Evan still didn't know Alon. He couldn't find a single common thread or motive behind the tasks he was assigned.
The only connection he could discern was that Alon would place some of the rescued children in an orphanage and show them continued interest. Beyond that, there was much Evan didn't know.
For instance, he didn't know how Alon, who had never once left the Palatio Territory, knew of such a place. He didn't know how Alon understood the mechanics of this chilling labyrinth or how he could answer its questions without a moment's hesitation.
Nevertheless, the reason Evan followed him into this suspicious place with only a minor complaint was the strange sense of trust and reliability that had built up over time. Every task he had carried out for Alon had, in the end, resulted in a 'good deed.'
…What exactly is he preparing for?
Trust didn't erase curiosity. Evan watched Alon with eyes full of both admiration and wonder.
Meanwhile, the man with the stoic face…
…I think I'm going to throw up.
Alon was forcing himself to look away to avoid seeing the gargoyle being horribly crushed.
I knew it was like this, but seeing it in person is way too brutal…
Creeeeeak—!
Alon let out a sigh of relief as he saw the door open the moment the gargoyle's execution ended.
The reason he, a man who couldn't even fight properly, had confidently entered the mid-game Labyrinth of Whispers was simple: he knew everything about it.
Well, at least I cleared it easily thanks to that.
This labyrinth consisted of eight rooms. Each stage presented a riddle, and solving it allowed passage to the next. In other words, as long as he knew the answers, he wouldn't have to fight a single enemy. And Alon remembered every single riddle perfectly.
In fact, for a Psychedelia player, these riddles were impossible to forget. This was almost the only labyrinth where you could challenge it repeatedly as long as you didn't take the final reward, making it a prime spot for mid-game level grinding.
Naturally, having spent countless playthroughs grinding here, Alon had memorized every riddle, allowing him to reach the end with ease.
Dragging along Evan, who was exhausted despite not having fought at all, Alon entered a small room at the very end. He picked up a ring sitting on a shabby table in the center of the room.
It was a ring with no distinct features—so devoid of any aura that anyone else might have expressed blatant disappointment.
But Alon smiled. He was certain that the object in his hand was the 'Constraint' he had been looking for. He didn't care about its plain appearance.
"…Huh? Young Master, the ring you were just holding—"
This item didn't function as a typical artifact; it was more like an elixir that absorbed into the user's body the moment it was used.
"I've got what I came for. Let's go."
Evan, who had been startled when the ring on Alon's finger vanished, looked bewildered as Alon turned to leave, but he quickly followed him out.
As soon as they reached the end, the labyrinth ceased all functions as if its purpose had been fulfilled.
Once Alon and Evan safely exited…
"…Did you expect this too?"
The moment they stepped out, they were met by human-shaped golems that hadn't been there before, all standing with weapons drawn.
"These are the ones from earlier—"
Realizing from the engravings that these golems were the stone piles they had passed earlier, Evan drew his sword with a tense expression.
"I'll handle it this time."
"…Pardon?"
Evan responded with a dazed look at Alon's words.
Before he could even process the answer, a declaration fell from Alon's lips.
"Execute Constraint."
*
Sitting in the carriage returning to the Altia Ducal Territory, Loria looked out at the distant estate and let out a sigh, her face etched with deep despair. She let out a self-deprecating laugh.
I really was a fool.
Loria thought of the man she had seen at the ball. Alon, the third son of the Count Palladio Family.
However, that was merely a superficial label. According to the rumors circulating among the nobles, he was the true mastermind of the Count's family—the one who had killed his two older brothers, both heavyweights in the underworld, and wiped out Avalon, which had practically ruled the East, overnight. He was a man who had hidden his power, waiting for the right moment to reveal his claws.
No. It's not just a rumor.
Having met Alon, Loria found it easy to believe the rumors were true. The emotional restraint he had shown at the ball was not something an ordinary person could possess.
It was like… looking at Father.
Loria thought of her father. The Duke of Altia. In the underworld, he was known as 'The Noble,' a man who could manipulate both the Royal and Noble factions at will—someone no noble should ever cross.
The eyes of her father, who never showed unnecessary emotion and always judged matters with cold rationality, were strikingly similar to the eyes she had seen in Alon five days ago.
That was why Loria had recognized him as her last lifeline the moment she saw him. She had clung to him, and she had failed.
"…"
To be honest, it wasn't entirely unexpected. The moment she saw Alon's eyes, Loria knew he wasn't the type of person to be moved by petty sympathy or pity. Yet, she had appealed to those very things anyway.
She had nothing else to offer. All she had was a hollow power maintained solely by the Duke's mercy and affection. No matter how hard she tried to grasp real power, her efforts were always blocked by the cowardly trash she was forced to call kin.
In short, she was powerless, and because of that, she couldn't even grab the final rope thrown to her. No, she was likely the only one who even thought of it as a rope. No one would agree to a deal where the losses clearly outweighed the gains.
"…Whew."
She would be lying if she said she didn't know. Despite her hollow power, she had survived numerous encounters with her disgusting relatives, who already possessed everything, in her struggle to claim her own place.
Thus, even though she hadn't yet reached twenty, her mind was well-versed in the logic of the world. She understood perfectly that every relationship and every story had its gains and losses.
"Something good will happen."
Loria, wearing a self-deprecating smile, recalled the cryptic words he had said at the final moment. She looked out the window as the scenery of the estate came into view.
About thirty minutes later, upon returning to the mansion…
"…What did you say?"
"Lord Firinne and Lord Kig… they have passed away!"
From a maid, she heard the news that two of the four brothers who had tormented her so much had taken their own lives.
Hearing this, Loria entered her room with a confused expression. She found their deaths suspicious. Her hateful family members were the type to stab each other in the back, but they would never choose suicide.
In other words, the idea that those two had committed suicide was…
It makes no sense.
Convinced that some scheme was at play, Loria suddenly remembered the words of that man, the third son of the Count Palladio Family—
No.
"Something good will happen."
Recalling the cryptic words of the true mastermind who had killed all his own siblings to become the heir…
"…!!"
She felt a chill run down her entire body.