Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 136

Having subdued the Earth Dragon, Walm descended the staircase illuminated faintly by the glow of luminous moss. Step by step, his worn-out boots struck the stone steps. A hundred, then two hundred steps passed, yet the dim abyss ahead remained impenetrable to sight. As the descent stretched into the hundreds, a creeping unease took hold of him. The path to the bottom seemed endless, an illusion threatening to swallow his sense of time and space.

“The path behind us… it’s gone.”

It wasn’t a concrete description, yet Yuna’s words were understood perfectly by all. They had been relying on the faint light of the luminous moss to navigate their way downward, but now, the steps they had traversed had disappeared. Perhaps the moss had merely stopped glowing, no longer providing its dim radiance. But such a naive thought was quickly dismissed as Walm’s skin prickled with an unsettling sensation, and his eyes burned slightly with warmth. His instincts screamed—he must not let the darkness consume him.

Despite their halted steps, Merrill’s voice remained steady as she gave her orders.

“Let’s keep moving forward.”

Without allowing themselves to succumb to fear, they maintained a steady pace toward the bottom. Whether half an hour or several hours passed, Walm’s disturbed sense of time made it impossible to tell. When his searching gaze finally landed on solid ground, he realized the staircase had ended—its purpose had been fulfilled.

Darkness swallowed his vision. Walm faced a choice. He could conjure fire to illuminate the surroundings, but doing so might expose them to lurking monsters, turning them into easy targets.

“Walm.”

Hearing his name was enough. Understanding the unspoken request, he conjured fire in his palm and transferred it to a lamp taken from his magic bag. As the light flickered to life, he surveyed the surroundings.

The floor was the same as before, but the walls and ceiling were beyond his sight.

“Stay alert. This place doesn’t follow the labyrinth’s usual logic. Be prepared for anything.”

Merrill’s warning voice melted into the darkness. That alone confirmed the strangeness of this space. In an enclosed environment like the labyrinth, sound should always echo, yet here, no matter how much noise they made, there was no follow-up. To make matters worse, the staircase they had descended had vanished entirely. They hadn’t just lost a ladder—they had lost their only route of return.

“Should we mark the floor?”

“…There’s no debris or damage anywhere. It’ll probably be swallowed by the labyrinth immediately.”

“So we have to navigate this place blindly?”

Mariante cast a worried look into the void. With their retreat cut off, they had no choice but to move forward. But which direction was forward? Was blindly pushing ahead the right answer? Walm’s thoughts spiraled into a dead end.

As they each pondered their options, the labyrinth, which had remained silent until now, produced a sound. It was a grating noise—like massive pieces of metal grinding against each other. Walm’s sharpened senses caught a streak of fire racing through the darkness. It slithered across the floor, illuminating their surroundings as it burned a path forward. The flames traced a deep groove filled with pitch-black liquid, which carried the fire along its surface, forming a guiding line.

“Well… it looks like we’re being welcomed.”

“How considerate.”

“Let’s accept the invitation. Straying from the path doesn’t seem like a wise idea.”

The invitation was blatant. Walm knew he was stepping into the jaws of a beast, yet he could see no other path.

“This world is insane… but this sheer level of distortion is almost impressive.”

“They say the labyrinth is a boundary between realms, a playground for higher beings. Their influence only extends to places where ley lines intersect… or so scholars claim. Though those same scholars spout nonsense more often than not, so who knows how much of it is true?”

“Whatever the case, this place doesn’t abide by normal logic.”

Walm silently agreed with Mariante. The burning liquid now branched into intricate patterns, forming an elaborate circular design. Though its full extent remained unclear, its radius seemed to exceed fifty meters.

“Should we go around it?”

“No, we’re heading to the center. There’s bound to be something there.”

At Walm’s question, Merrill made a firm decision. This place was already detached from the logic of the surface world. Caution now would be meaningless. Walm had chosen to descend into the depths—he had to leave the rest to fate.

As they neared the center, a pungent odor assaulted their noses. It was a scent Walm had encountered many times before on the battlefield.

“…What is that stench?”

“The stench of decay. But it’s… far too strong.”

Even Walm, who had once been buried among hundreds of rotting corpses, had never experienced such an overwhelming smell. It wouldn’t have been surprising if a mountain of decayed bodies towered before them.

Upon reaching the central area, as if waiting for their arrival, the flames extended outward, tracing hidden grooves that erupted in fire. Surrounded by flame, they could still escape with a simple leap—but the display itself felt more like a staged spectacle than a natural occurrence.

“Someone has terrible taste.”

The flames continued to crisscross, forming a pattern that stirred an odd sense of familiarity within Walm. He had seen it before. But where?

The stench distracted his concentration, but he forced himself to search his memories, piecing together the fragments of recognition. Then, realization struck.

“…A symbol. This is a pattern.”

“Huh? What do you mean, a pattern?”

Mariante’s question went unanswered as Walm focused entirely on his thoughts. He had seen this shape in his distant memories. A hexagram. Its history was ancient, carrying multiple meanings across different cultures. Where Walm had lived in his previous world, it was known as the Kagome Crest, a symbol said to ward off evil.

But unlike the sacred form he remembered, this six-pointed star was surrounded by bizarre, indecipherable script, as though it had been twisted into something entirely different.

Then, from above, Walm caught the faint sound of chains grinding against one another.

Judging by the tense expressions of his comrades, he knew it wasn’t just his imagination.

“Step away from the center. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Agreed. We should move now.”

As they rushed away from the hexagram, a deafening roar filled the space, metal grinding against metal in a sound more overwhelming than before. The stench of decay grew stronger, nearly unbearable. Walm, having escaped from the hexagram, lifted his gaze—only to see massive chains dangling from the void above. Despite the faint light, the very center of the chamber was swallowed in absolute darkness, impenetrable even to his trained eyes.

“…You’ve got to be kidding.”

Even Mariante, an elite adventurer, was at a loss for words. Something stirred within the shadows, bound by chains yet still writhing forward. Lifeless eyes locked onto Walm before releasing a powerful roar. The very air trembled, and with it, a putrid wind filled the chamber.

Walm recognized the creature instantly. It was one he had never wished to see again. A monster of the same kin that had caused the fall of the northern nations.

“It’s an Undead Dragon!!”

Hari shouted its name, confirming Walm’s fears. Its murky scales, tainted as if stained by ink and filth, its jagged, uneven teeth, and the rotting flesh exposed to the open air all made it clear. This was a dragon that had fallen into undeath.

In response, the demon mask trembled with anticipation.

“The records about the labyrinth’s depths were said to have been lost during the Unification War, but this… this is a nightmare.”

Dragons stood at the pinnacle of all living creatures, a force above all monsters. And now, in the depths of the labyrinth, one was clawing its way out of the abyss.

“It may be an impure, lesser form of a dragon, but it’s still powerful enough to wipe out an entire army. What’s our—”

Before Hari could even finish his question, Walm had already moved. He had condensed his mana into a fireball and launched it at the Undead Dragon. Blue flames exploded upon contact, engulfing its skull. Enraged, the dragon thrashed, rattling its chains violently.

The Blue Flames, devastating to all undead creatures, did take effect—but against a dragon, their potency was dulled.

“We need to kill it before it fully emerges.”

Walm’s words cut through the tension. While the others hesitated, he remained focused on a simple solution. He had already fought a dragon before. He had experienced it firsthand.

At Dandurg Castle, the Flame Emperor Dragon’s breath had obliterated the command center, incinerating thousands of soldiers in an instant. Compared to that monstrosity, this Undead Dragon was weakened, its body rotting, its movements sluggish as it struggled against its bindings.

There was no reason to hesitate.

“Agreed.”

Before another word was spoken, Merrill’s magic surged. Taking her signature stance, mana coiled around her body like a storm. A dazzling flash accompanied her Three Magic Attack, the powerful strike tearing through the darkness and slamming into the rotting flesh of the Undead Dragon.

The impact sent a shockwave across the chamber, forcing even Walm to brace himself. When the dust settled, the dragon’s exposed flesh was torn open, but it was far from a mortal wound.

“…That attack was strong enough to shatter the Earth Dragon’s scales.”

Merrill muttered with frustration.

“How many more can you cast?”

“At most, two more.”

The attack hadn’t been ineffective, but even with two more, it likely wouldn’t be enough to kill it. Three Magic Attack couldn’t match the resilience of a dragon. Even Demon Fire at full force wouldn’t be enough. For a fleeting moment, Walm entertained the thought of having multiple Merrills on the battlefield, each launching devastating attacks in succession. But reality quickly crushed that fantasy.

“…It’s frustrating that we can’t strike it while it’s in the air.”

“My arrows can’t pierce through both the magical barrier and its scales.”

The dragon’s claw burst from the void, with the other on the verge of breaking free. It was escaping its binds. Walm fired another fireball, while Merrill prepared her next attack. Desperately, they searched for a way to stop the emerging monster, but no answer came.

“Damn it, the upper body is coming through!”

Cursing under his breath, Walm lowered his gaze to the ground. The summoning sigil, shaped like a cursed star, continued to glow ominously. As he stared into the flames, a gamble formed in his mind.

If he failed, their lack of effective attacks would only worsen—but it was worth trying.

“Merrill, the floor! Destroy the grooves!!”

Merrill, just about to unleash her next attack, immediately altered its trajectory, sending the blast downward. The explosion ripped through the stone, shattering the glowing channels that had been fueling the sigil’s power.

The labyrinth trembled. The Undead Dragon let out an earth-shaking scream, its body convulsing violently. The massive black void it had been crawling from flickered like a mirage before vanishing entirely.

“…It got split in half?!”

Mariante’s voice was filled with disbelief. The dragon’s body had been halfway through the portal, and now, with its connection cut, the lower half had disappeared into the void.

Walm’s gamble had partially succeeded.

The miscalculation, however, was that despite losing its lower body, the Undead Dragon refused to die. With only its torso and arms remaining, it slammed its claws into the ground and dragged itself upright.

“That’s just unnatural… Why is it still moving?!”

Hari cursed as he adjusted his grip on his mace. Walm, too, wished it had simply perished then and there—but even rotting, it was still a dragon.

“Merrill, can you still fire one more?”

“One last shot. That’s all I have left.”

“If we strike the severed wound—”

Walm’s words cut off as dread filled his chest.

He knew this feeling. He had seen it before.

He could never forget it.

It was the very attack that had destroyed Dandurg Castle.

“BREATH ATTACK INCOMING!!”

Dark, murky magic surged within the Undead Dragon’s chest, its foul energy pooling toward its throat.

“There’s no way we can dodge this!!”

“Mari, use every support spell you’ve got!!”

“Take everything I have!!”

Mana surged from Mariante into Merrill as she grasped her shoulder. Contribution Magic—a rare magic, one Walm had never encountered before despite his vast experience with sorcery.

There was no time to admire it. Walm launched another fireball, hoping to halt the dragon’s advance, but the rotting beast showed no signs of fear. A dense mass of compressed mana gathered from its throat to its maw, and as its massive jaws opened, a Dragon Breath was unleashed.

Merrill roared in tandem, releasing a Three Magic Attack, now fueled by every drop of Mariante’s mana.

“GaAaAaaahHhh!!”

Blinding torrents of magic collided. The force shattered the ground beneath the impact zone, instantly evaporating the stone. The struggle between the two forces sent shockwaves rippling through the chamber, the clashing energies devouring the multicolored light and turning it black. And then, in a surge of raw power, Merrill’s attack was overwhelmed.

Walm conjured a towering pillar of fire to intercept the breath attack, but it wasn’t enough.

The next moment, Walm and Merrill felt their arms seized and were flung backward. Hari had thrown them out of the way.

“Hit the ground! I’ll shield you!”

“Hari?!”

The warrior monk leaped ahead of them, planting himself like a rooted tree, his body wrapped in a magic barrier. His mastery had refined it into Diamond Skin, strong enough to bend iron with his bare hands and deflect blades with his skin alone. But even with its immense defensive power, facing a dragon’s breath attack directly would not be without consequence.

“Ughhh!! AAaAahAhhh!!”

A horrifying scream tore from Hari’s throat as he was consumed by the breath attack.

The force of the attack was like being dragged across a riverbed filled with jagged stones. Walm’s body ached all over but he was still alive. Coughing up blood, he forced himself to his feet, using his halberd for support. The others were in a similar state, battered but standing.

His searching eyes found Hari’s broken form. The monk’s skin had been flayed, blood seeping from his wounds as if he had been put through a grinder. Yet, miraculously, he was still in one piece. The weakened breath attack had spared him from total annihilation, and the dragon’s failure to unleash its full power had saved them all.

“Can you still fight?”

“That thing only has half its body left. It’s badly wounded… we can finish this.”

“Mariante, take Hari further back. Yuna, are you good to go?”

“Mm.”

No more tricks. This was the final battle of the labyrinth.

As Walm closed the distance, the Undead Dragon swung its claw in an attempt to crush him. Walm weaved unpredictably, altering his course in small increments. The dragon’s strike shattered the stone floor, but with only a single pair of arms, its movements were predictable. As long as Walm kept the right distance, he could avoid a fatal hit.

While he drew its attention, Merrill and Yuna flanked the dragon from the sides, unleashing relentless attacks. Merrill’s blade ripped deeper into its wounds, while Yuna fired arrows into the remains of the Three Magic Attack’s earlier strike, embedding shafts into the damaged flesh. The foul stench of rotting blood filled the chamber, making Walm’s nose recoil in disgust.

Whenever the dragon turned its attention elsewhere, Walm struck back with fireballs, drawing its focus once more.

“All set!!”

With Hari secured, Mariante rejoined the battle. The group relentlessly tore into the exposed flesh and severed limbs, yet the dragon’s remaining body still stretched over twenty meters. Its magic barrier held firm, their attacks carving away at it like chisels against stone.

“Stay out of its front! Watch its claws and fangs!”

Even with half its body missing and limited movement, the Undead Dragon’s attacks only grew more precise. Each exchange wore down the party’s stamina. The lingering effects of the breath attack, accumulated fatigue, and mounting injuries chipped away at their strength.

“Walm, dodge!!”

Until now, the dragon had treated Walm as little more than a pest. But suddenly, its focus shifted entirely. It snapped its head toward him, its massive jaws aiming to crush him in a single bite.

Heart pounding, Walm kicked off the ground, sliding backward across the stone. The dragon’s skull rushed past just inches above him.

“My halberd!”

Though he had barely escaped death, his weapon was not as fortunate. The halberd had been knocked from his grasp, disappearing into the dark void beyond.

Still gasping for breath, Walm rolled onto his side and drew the longsword from his waist. Losing the reach of his halberd was a setback, but he still had options. Besides, there was an opportunity—the dragon had overextended itself in its lunge, leaving a weak spot open.

His comrades wasted no time exploiting the moment. As the dragon struggled to lift itself back up, its body was bombarded with strikes. But even under the relentless assault, Walm didn’t relax. The dragon was still alive, still dangerous.

Whether it was the nature of the undead or simply the resilience of a dragon, the enemy refused to fall.

Focusing on the dragon’s movement, Walm noticed something different. Until now, the beast had been clawing into the ground for support. But now, its claws were curling inward, grasping at something unseen.

Compressed stone fragments began seeping between its fingers.

“Projectile incoming! Get down!!”

Almost instantly, the dragon’s arm swung forward, releasing a barrage of stone shards like a scattershot blast. The group scattered, but Yuna was caught in its trajectory.

The stones struck the floor like a hailstorm, bouncing and skidding into the distance. And then—Yuna collapsed.

“Yuna?!”

“Mariante, don’t stop moving!!”

Mariante’s hesitation cost her. She was a fraction too slow in dodging the dragon’s next strike. The impact sent her flying, hurling her across the chamber before she crashed, unmoving.

The Undead Dragon, pleased with its success, repeated the attack pattern. Walm and Merrill had no time to mourn. With their numbers dwindling, they had to rely on increasingly risky maneuvers just to stay alive.

Time became meaningless. Their breathing grew ragged. Hands trembled from exhaustion. Their grip on their weapons weakened. Each clash pushed them closer to the limit. The dragon’s magic barrier, once unwavering, now showed signs of instability—but even so, it was only a matter of time before the humans collapsed first.

“We won’t last at this rate. I’ll burn it down with my skill.”

“Walm, can your eyes handle it?”

“I don’t have enough mana left to make them melt. But… maybe it’s not enough to take it down.”

Even while speaking, they continued to evade attacks, their conversation interrupted by ragged breaths.

“So… we go in at point-blank range.”

“Yeah. I need a way in, and an opening.”

“I’ll launch you in with wind magic. After that, I’ll provide cover until my mana runs out.”

“As soon as my skill activates, retreat immediately. You’ll get caught in the blast.”

Having formed a plan, Walm momentarily pulled back, regrouping with Merrill. The dragon, sensing an opportunity, lunged forward.

“Now, Walm! Gust!!”

The sudden blast of wind propelled Walm forward. The dragon, already closing in, had no time to react. With its remaining arm, it tried to swat him out of the air, but its aim was off. Desperate, it snapped its jaws at him, but Walm twisted midair, avoiding the strike by mere inches.

His target was already chosen—the exposed shoulder wound left by Merrill’s Three Magic Attack. Reversing the grip on his longsword, Walm drove the blade deep into the wound like a wedge, plunging it into the dragon’s flesh.

“Burn it down, Walm!!”

Blue flames erupted from Walm’s body, surging into a violent storm. Within moments, the Undead Dragon was completely engulfed. Its rotting flesh crackled, its decayed fluids and fat popping as they combusted. It was as if its entire body had begun to dissolve.

His cursed eyes throbbed in protest, reacting to the otherworldly blaze. Walm clenched his teeth, grinding them hard enough to almost shatter them. He endured the pain. As long as he could still feel this agony, the dragon would continue to burn.

“Walm, get away! It’s going to grab you!!”

Merrill’s desperate cry was too late. The dragon’s convulsing arm clamped down on him. His armor crumpled under the crushing force, his body creaking as pressure overwhelmed him. A sickening crack echoed through the chamber—his left arm snapped, twisting unnaturally.

“Gah…! Ghhkk… ughhh…!!”

Even as his body screamed in pain, Walm refused to falter. The Demon Fire raged on, consuming both him and the dragon in its inferno. The monster’s grip began to melt away, its claws warping and liquefying. The fingernails, once jagged talons, peeled away one by one.

The dragon was the first to yield. Though it had lost its intelligence, its primal instincts still recognized death. Unable to withstand the agony, it hurled Walm away, desperate to rid itself of the searing flames.

The stone floor greeted him with a brutal impact. A dry crack resounded as he landed, sending another wave of agony coursing through him. The shock forced his Demon Fire to extinguish, his vision flickering with distortion. Nothing was clear anymore—he couldn’t even tell which way was up or down.

Using the ground as his only guide, Walm struggled to push himself upright.

The dragon’s roars had not ceased—Merrill was still fighting. Walm could feel the faint traces of mana within him. He wasn’t finished yet. He couldn’t be. He forced his trembling legs to move, attempting to stand, but they refused to obey. Glancing downward, he saw his ankle bent at an unnatural angle, like a snapped green onion.

Still, he tried to rise, using his remaining leg as leverage—only for an unbearable pain to shoot through his chest, sending him crashing back down.

No matter how he gasped for air, he couldn’t breathe.

His heart clenched painfully.

“Agh…! Hhhkk…!”

Walm was drowning on dry land.

Beyond his failing vision, Merrill’s sword danced in the air. The Undead Dragon’s entire body was blistering, its flesh melting from its bones. And yet, it clung to life, refusing to let go.

“Stay down, Walm!! I’ll finish this! Just wait there!!”

Pathetically, Walm could only entrust the battle to his final remaining comrade.

The duel stretched on—dozens, maybe hundreds of exchanges. The dragon’s body was being carved away, piece by piece, yet Merrill, too, was accumulating injuries. It was a brutal, merciless battle, yet it held an eerie beauty, like a deadly dance.

Two warriors of different species, both pushed to their absolute limits.

It would take only the smallest mistake to tip the balance.

“…Just a little more.”

Merrill’s breath was ragged. Then, her foot faltered. It was a fatal opening.

The Undead Dragon, with what remained of its skeletal arm, swung downward in a crushing blow. Walm prayed for her to dodge—but his battered ears caught a familiar whistle in the air.

An arrow.

The dragon’s attack veered off course, slamming into the empty floor instead.

“…Covering… you.”

Through the haze of his fading consciousness, Walm turned his head.

A lone adventurer stood, nocking another arrow. Yuna had returned.

Despite the blood streaming from her forehead, staining her eyes red, despite the sheer exhaustion weighing on her, she did not miss.

Like threading a needle, her arrow found the exact spot where the dragon’s magic barrier had shattered—its remaining eye.

As the dragon roared in agony, Walm, coughing up blood, couldn’t help but smile.

Yuna released another shot, piercing its last good eye. The massive creature shuddered, its stance breaking apart. Merrill rushed forward, falling into her distinct stance. She had almost no mana left but she still chose this form.

Launching herself up the dragon’s arm, she raised her longsword overhead.

She wasn’t aiming for a new target.

She retraced the path of her Three Magic Attack, slicing through the eye socket, down the neck, and across the shoulder. Her landing was far from graceful but who could dare call her undignified?

Walm, still conscious, bore witness—Merrill had done it.

The dragon collapsed, its corrupted body finally reaching its limit. Its rotting fluids flooded the carved grooves in the stone, filling the chamber with a foul stench. What little remained of its flesh melted away, leaving only a skeleton.

The Undead Dragon was truly dead.

A deep relief washed over Walm, and his eyes drifted shut.

“Yuna, check on Hari and Mariante. I’ll take care of Walm.”

Despite her exhaustion, Merrill rushed to his side.

“What the hell were you thinking?! You idiot, stay awake!!”

She was saying something unreasonable. Walm wanted to retort, but his voice wouldn’t come. His lungs refused to function properly.

Merrill tore at his clothing, revealing his battered body.

“Not just his limbs—his ribs are broken. His chest is… swelling. Damn it, there’s air trapped in his chest cavity.”

“Hari and Mariante are alive, though they’re in bad shape.”

Yuna’s voice came from the shadows. Despite the severity of their injuries, they had survived. A flood of relief dulled Walm’s pain.

“Yuna! Is Hari conscious?”

“He’s awake. He was even casting healing spell on himself.”

“Bring him here! Walm’s chest is filling with air, and if we don’t release it, his heart could fail.”

Hari, supported by Yuna, was placed beside Walm. Their party gathered around them, battered and broken like fish laid out in a portside market.

“Give us instructions, Hari.”

“This much… is nothing. First, take out a drainage needle and distilled alcohol from my bag. Clean them—hands too. Good… the insertion point is between the second and third ribs… above the nipple. A little to the right… there. Insert it vertically—slowly. If it reaches the chest cavity, you’ll hear a hissing sound.”

A new pain struck Walm, but strangely, as the needle slid in, breathing became easier.

Even through his fading consciousness, he could hear it—the sound of air escaping from his chest.

“…That’s a good sound. The air… is coming out.”

“We did it, Walm. You’re going to be okay.”

Merrill, utterly drained, let out a long sigh, offering a weary smile.

With no other way to respond, Walm weakly raised his trembling hand.

At that moment, the Three Magic Attack party had conquered the Great Labyrinth of Bergana.

Translator – Lyxxna