The place Charlot “found” was an orc meeting hall, a conference room for orc officers—indeed, it was rather “clean.”
The adventurers were quite satisfied with this “camp.” After a bit of cleaning, they cleared a large space for themselves.
Although Lord Leo remained somewhat cautious, he eventually concluded that his concerns were overblown. Confident in his strength, he paid no further mind and instructed his two attendants to lay out a thick carpet so he could rest and recover his energy.
His attendants, ever loyal, stayed close by, maintaining a buffer between Lord Leo and the group of adventurers.
No one noticed that Charlot had vanished.
By now, Charlot had ventured deep into the Machubi Fortress. Standing alone on an abandoned path, he stared into the deeper recesses of the stronghold.
This desolate path marked the boundary where the fortress began to transform into a labyrinth.
Charlot could sense it: the labyrinthine transformation of Machubi was driving certain forces deeper into the stronghold.
“So, there really are some strange things in this Machubi Fortress!”
“I wonder if I could capture a few of them to enhance the labyrinth’s power.”
Charlot had researched this subject at Sheffield University, consulting professors and poring over various materials, eventually piecing together fragments of “truth.”
During the clash of two foreign gods of chaos, it seemed both had lost portions of their power, which had fused into the Diary.
If Charlot could absorb the power contained in Agmirlas' Labyrinth and the Vampiric Scroll〢〨 before the two gods rediscovered their lost energy, they would no longer be able to sense this portion of their chaotic essence.
This was because the power would no longer belong to them.
However, if Charlot failed to assimilate the power within the given timeframe, Agmirlas and Karnstein would sense their lost chaotic energy once more, pinpoint the location, and descend upon the world again.
While the timeframe for the Vampiric Scroll〢〨 was tighter, Charlot’s mastery of Blood Glory and his study of Adonis Clan vampiric secret arts made absorbing the scroll’s power relatively manageable.
On the other hand, Agmirlas’ Labyrinth allowed more time, but no extensions were possible. Once the deadline passed, Agmirlas would inevitably return, unstoppable and devastating.
Humans could not resist foreign gods of chaos!
Only gods could contend with gods.
This was the consensus of the Old Continent.
Charlot was therefore all the more eager to master the fifteen labyrinths.
Always cautious, he refrained from stepping outside the labyrinth’s bounds or taking unnecessary risks. However, certain entities lurking in the shadows could no longer contain themselves.
A whisper, soft and insidious, suddenly brushed against his ear. It was as though a lover, intimate and tender, was calling out to him.
The whisper carried a boundless power of enchantment. Within its range of influence, dozens of wild beasts emerged from their hiding places, their movements stiff as they stumbled deeper into the heart of Machubi.
Charlot pressed a hand against his brow, debating whether to activate the Eye of Insight.
He couldn’t identify the source of the whispering, but he was unafraid. Inwardly, he thought, “I’ve stared down foreign gods of chaos twice. How could a mere charm spell affect my mind?”
Charlot was certain that as long as he stayed within the labyrinth’s domain, the hidden creature would have no way to harm him.
“Kainan! I’m here…”
As Charlot maintained his calm, a figure—a woman with wavy golden hair—suddenly darted into the darkness, her voice a soft, urgent call.
“Hannah?!”
“Come back!”
Charlot shouted in alarm, but it was too late.
Hannah, an unassuming young woman who seemed fond of him, had followed him here. Charlot had never considered any romantic involvement with her, especially while he was on the run.
Even if the day came when his escape ended, Charlot already had someone else in mind.
He hadn’t expected Hannah to follow him, let alone fall prey to the whispers emanating from the depths of Machubi.
Without hesitation, Charlot flung his Vampiric Axe into the air. Guided by his Bloodfire Qi, the axe should have flown with precision, but after traveling a few dozen paces, it abruptly lost its connection to him and disappeared into the dark recesses of Machubi, never to return.
A chill ran through Charlot’s heart.
His transmigration had begun in Cynes, at Fars’ renowned seaside resort town. Later, he had returned to Strasbourg, the empire’s capital, home to countless influential figures and even the watchful eyes of the gods. Danger and monsters were practically nonexistent.
Except for… the auction house incident, when he had been drawn into the labyrinth.
And the time he summoned two foreign gods…
Well.
He hadn’t encountered monsters often, but he had faced foreign gods!
In short, Charlot had no way to gauge how terrifying the forces lurking in the depths of Machubi were or the nature of their chaotic power.
Gazing into the pitch-black ruins of the fortress and the vanished shadow of Hannah, Charlot forcibly suppressed the impulse to charge into the darkness to save her.
Even as a fourth-tier Transcendent with two extraordinary weapons, he was still far from capable of confronting the monsters hidden deep within Machubi. To rush in recklessly would mean certain death, accomplishing nothing.
Charlot closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and activated the Protagoras Breathing Technique, forcefully suppressing the pangs of guilt and helplessness swelling within him.
The whispers persisted…
An intangible power crept inch by inch through the darkness as the labyrinth’s transformation continued to expand.
Minutes passed, then dozens of minutes.
Finally, Charlot’s mind sharpened. With a commanding shout, the Vampiric Axe reappeared, soaring gracefully back into his hand.
At the same time, Charlot saw what had become of Hannah.
She had been reduced to a skeleton, as though her body had weathered centuries in an instant. Her shriveled face bore an eerie hint of contentment—horrifying and grotesque.
Nearby, dozens of animals lay in a similar state, their corpses withered and skeletal.
Charlot extended his hand, causing the earth to rise and envelop Hannah’s remains, along with those of the animals. Within the labyrinth, he could manipulate the terrain to some degree, even altering paths and distorting space slightly.
This was not power that ordinary Transcendents could wield.
It was the chaotic energy of Agmirlas, the labyrinth god, a power lost to the foreign gods of chaos.
After completing the burial, Charlot turned away without looking back. Though he had no deep connection with Hannah, her fate filled him with anger. He swore silently, “Whatever you are, I’ll drag you into the sunlight eighteen days from now and watch you turn to ash.”
“No! Fifteen days should suffice.”
The moment Charlot turned, the whispering ceased.
In the distance, a dozen vines slithered across a boundary, creeping onto the desolate path. These vines, animated by some mysterious force, suddenly went taut, shrieking in a bone-chilling pitch. Yet they could not resist as they were uprooted entirely, vanishing into the labyrinth.