"Lord Griffin, it's about time."

The hooded woman stepped up beside him, her gaze sweeping calmly over the adventurers moving to and fro, completely oblivious.

The Lova Labyrinth had more than one path.

Hundreds of adventurers were pushing into the depths in several teams. People kept returning to report obstacles ahead or to seek instructions from the Dragon-Slaying Hero, and everything was still proceeding according to plan.

"I understand." Something flickered in Griffin's cloudy, aged eyes, barely perceptible, gone in an instant.

The woman wouldn't rush the schedule without reason.

Unless some party had already pushed into the deepest reaches and was closing in on the chamber that kept the mythical-age monster sealed.

"The Eater of Life can no longer wait to taste fresh flesh and blood," the woman said quietly. No expression showed on the half of the face visible beneath the hood, but pride bled through every word.

"Since the mythical age, the Eater has lain dormant for thousands of years. If you can satisfy that lord, perhaps you will be granted the privilege of Assimilation — just as I was."

Griffin's expression didn't change. Reaching over, Griffin picked up the greatsword beside him and gripped it.

"Let us hope so."

The Eater of Life the woman spoke of was the monster rumored to grant humans immortality.

In the mythical age, it had been buried deep underground by some unforeseen calamity, and the labyrinth built to shelter it had sunk into the earth right along with it.

Griffin's rank and standing had always afforded the man a little more information than most: Oberon Holstein, the strongest warrior in recorded history, had once challenged the Eater of Life alone, and the entire labyrinth plunged into the subterranean depths shortly after.

No one knew the outcome of that battle.

But the Eater of Life had resurfaced. That told Griffin everything about who had won.

Even so, it had surely paid a heavy price.

"Lord Griffin, are we making our move?" Several adventurers, noble knights and mages in disguise, saw Griffin rise and immediately closed in.

"Yes." A slight nod.

"Mind Control Magic!"

The noble mage raised the staff.

By raw mana alone, controlling this many people at once would have been impossible. But days of lacing their food with drugs, combined with the amplification from this high-tier staff crafted by a master, had made controlling these adventurers, none of whom had any mental resistance, almost trivially easy.

And beyond the drugs, they had been steadily grinding down these people's stamina and willpower for days, all leading to this moment.

The timing was perfect.

"Everyone, by offering up this high-quality flesh and blood, that lord will surely be very pleased."

Genuine excitement crossed the hooded woman's face.

What the woman didn't notice was the look Griffin and the others shared while watching that retreating back. Faint. Barely there. Pity.

So-called "Assimilation" meant nothing more than discarding free will to become a puppet at the monster's beck and call.

That kind of immortality, to someone who had fought every day of a lifetime, was no different from death.

Griffin couldn't accept it. Neither could the nobles standing behind.

So they had chosen a different path, using a secret art the kingdom had preserved to this day to flip the equation and control the monster instead. Strip away its will. Turn it into a tool for extending everyone's life.

Shared immortality for all.

That was the goal.

...

"There are way too many garbage traps in here."

Banxia pulled himself out of the pitch-black pit.

He had thought monsters were waiting down there. Instead it was just a handful of spikes sticking up like teeth, which had punched several large holes clean through the soles of his shoes.

For some reason, ever since clearing the last batch of monsters, not a single one had appeared in any of the rooms that followed. Every single room was a trap room, wall to wall.

What was that supposed to mean? Were the monsters actively dodging him?

It left Banxia thoroughly annoyed.

"...Are you all right?" The elf hurried forward, voice full of concern.

"Fine." Banxia waved a hand, the disappointment still plain on his face.

Seeing he was unhurt, the elf breathed out. The adventurers behind them, who had been holding their breath for a while now, let out a collective exhale as well.

With someone of this young man's unfathomable combat power leading the way, their exploration progress had been moving faster than anyone had imagined. At this rate, the final boss room wasn't far off.

"Forget it. Let's just get this over with."

Banxia was in a foul mood and had zero interest in taking it slow.

A boundless storm of slashes poured out in every direction. The entire room was carved into craters, every trap eradicated, before the barrage finally stopped.

The adventurers behind stood there with twitching eyelids.

If they had been on the receiving end of that, would they have survived?

They exchanged looks for a long moment. The exact same thought surfaced in every single mind: from this point forward, under absolutely no circumstances would any of them get this person upset.

After clearing the trap room, Banxia looked ahead.

The underground space in front of them was vast, nothing like the stone chambers they'd been moving through. It almost felt like standing back on the surface.

"Does that door up ahead look a different color?" Banxia narrowed his eyes.

"That should be the labyrinth's final room." The moment the elf said it, Banxia perked right up.

"Now that's something to look forward to." The hidden room on the first floor and the monster horde on the sixth had been highlights, sure, but everything else on this run had been a complete bore. Was this really all a mythical-age labyrinth had to offer?

He raised his hand, already lining up a mini-sun to send as a greeting to whatever boss was inside, when dense, heavy footsteps suddenly rang out from behind.

"Someone's coming. Quite a few of them." Banxia slowly lowered his bow-drawing stance and looked back the way they'd come.

"Huh?" The elf blinked, then, like the other adventurers, caught the low rumble rolling in from the distance.

It didn't take long before the first figures came into view.

"It's the Dragon-Slaying Hero, Lord Griffin! And more adventurers!"

"Wait — the messengers who went back to report already returned?"

"Who cares? The final room is right there. More people means better odds."

The reactions among the adventurers ranged widely. Some looked relieved. Others felt a vague unease they couldn't quite name.

"Dragon-Slaying Hero?" Banxia tilted his head and looked toward the elf.

"I've only heard the stories," the elf said quietly. "Apparently, years ago a swarm of dragons attacked the royal capital. When everyone had given up hope, Griffin stepped forward and led the army and adventurers to drive the dragons back."

"Oh." Banxia's reply was only half-attentive.

"You'd better not underestimate that one." The elf's tone went serious. "I've heard the class level reached forty-five years ago, a top-tier warrior, rare across the entire human world. Age has taken its toll, and the strength now isn't what it was, but that's still not someone to dismiss."

"Hm. Speaking of which — I still don't know your level."

"Level?" Banxia paused, then something seemed to occur to him. "You mean that toy the Church sells? Pure garbage."

"Eh?"

"They charged me a fortune for it, and it broke after a few uses. No matter what I do, it won't show my level or name." Just bringing it up was enough to fill Banxia with complaints.

Ever since obtaining his first rainbow skill, the little level-measuring card had simply stopped lighting up. He'd asked around, everyone else's worked fine. His alone was broken, and bringing it in for repairs had done nothing. Even the receptionist at the Guild had no idea what was going on.

So Banxia had given up on it.

"Broken... it just... broke?" The elf tilted her head, visibly baffled.

Church-issued equipment. Quality had always been beyond question. How did it just break after a few uses?

No. Wait.

Something clicked.

If it wasn't broken, and it wasn't broken, then the only possibility was that the young man's level had already exceeded fifty. The testing cards sold at the Adventurers Guild simply couldn't process him anymore.

To find out the actual number, one would probably have to travel all the way to the Holy Capital and commission a specialized custom testing card directly from the Church.

Elf: "..."

...

➤ Next: Do You Desire Infinite Lifespan and Time?

Chapter 82 - Do You Desire Infinite Lifespan and Time?

Lova Labyrinth, Sixth Floor.

Deep in this relic of the mythological era, the space before the final boss chamber door was packed wall to wall with human adventurers.

It should have been a scene of soaring morale, everyone gathered to push through the last obstacle together. Instead, every face in the crowd wore the same hollow, vacant stare.

When several figures walked up from the rear, not a single person so much as glanced their way.

"With this, we should be able to meet the Eater of Life." Griffin looked toward the hooded woman at his side.

"So many high-level bodies," the hooded woman said, nodding. "My lord will be very pleased." Her gaze drifted toward the front. "Those two, did you arrange them as well?"

"Hmm?" Griffin lifted cloudy eyes and looked where she indicated.

At the very front of the controlled crowd, standing apart from the rest, were two figures: a broad-shouldered young man, and an elven woman braced in a combat stance.

"What is going on?" His expression darkened as he turned to the noble mage beside him.

They had come this far, and somehow missed people.

If these two noticed something and ruined the plan, it would be a disaster.

"I, I don't know what happened either..." The noble mage rushed to explain, already raising the wand toward the two of them. "Perhaps something went wrong with the casting. I'll try again."

"Domination Magic!"

The red gem at the elf's brow glowed faintly, and the invisible mental compulsion rolled off without leaving a mark.

"You colluded with monsters."

One of the rewards of a long life was having seen a great many things.

At this point, everything was clear.

The labyrinth raid was a lie. The rumors about the sage's manuscript were a lie.

All of it had been arranged to lure enough high-tier adventurers inside and kill them.

"And what good does knowing do you?" Griffin glanced at the hooded woman.

She made no move toward the door. Clearly, she wanted them to prove their "loyalty" through action first.

Griffin turned back to the elf, a glint of mockery surfacing in those murky eyes. "It is already impossible for you to leave here alive.

"Still, an elf. A rare sight indeed.

"A race born to privilege like yours could never understand what we pure-blooded humans have spent generations pursuing."

The elf's eyes narrowed slightly.

"No more questions." Griffin drew his greatsword. A sickly flush crept across his deeply lined face. "Eternal life is right in front of me. I have no patience left."

He raised the blade and issued his orders to the nobles beside him:

"This elf carries too many magic tools. She's mine. The warrior, deal with him fast."

"Yes! We'll finish him off and come back to support you, Lord Griffin."

Several knights and mages peeled off and lunged toward the young man.

Griffin himself didn't move. He just stared at the elf's smooth, youthful skin, a faint yearning flickering in those clouded eyes. "If you don't come at me, your companion is going to die."

"How dull!" The elf tightened her grip on her weapon, not showing a single gap.

"I see." Griffin's tone shifted. "You two must be a loving couple. That's why you trust each other so completely."

"H, H-Husband and wife?!" The elf's entire combat posture crumbled in an instant, her ears flushing red at a visible rate. "What are you saying?! I — I never — we are not husband and wife!"

"Naive!" Griffin exploded into motion, his greatsword crashing down toward her head with bone-shaking force.

The elf threw her blade up in a desperate parry.

But this old man had once wrestled dragons in his prime. Age had worn him down, and his strength was a shadow of what it had been, yet even that shadow was still far beyond what a rattled elf could stop.

BOOM!

A heavy crash. The elf was hurled backward by the sheer impact, slammed into the cold stone wall, and slid to the ground in a heap.

"Long-lived races are supposed to have the sharpest combat instincts! The deepest experience! Why, why are you all so weak!"

Griffin's voice rang out across the open expanse of the sixth floor, something raw and long-suppressed bleeding into every word.

"You have ages, an eternity, to push the martial path as far as it will go, and you throw it all away on things that mean absolutely nothing!"

"...Spare me the lecture." The elf pushed herself up from the rubble, blood threading from the corner of her mouth.

That blow had come too fast. The damage was real.

But there was no retreat in her eyes.

"Living in this world doesn't mean martial cultivation is the only path worth walking."

"You're right." Griffin was breathing hard, but the greatsword went back up, and there was no agreement at all behind his eyes.

"That is precisely why your long-lived kind are being slowly driven to extinction. That is why you will never understand the secret behind our strength."

"But it doesn't matter. Once I have eternal life, I'll find out how you lived for myself."

Years of battle told the elf not to let her guard down in spirit. She spoke with open contempt:

"You spent your entire life fighting the demon race, and you trust what a demon tells you?

"Eternal life. That's just a pretty name for spending the rest of your days as someone's puppet."

The old man didn't bother with her taunt. A sidelong glance at the hooded woman — no reaction, and then, unhurried: "All right, little girl. Your companion should be a corpse by now."

The elf snorted and said nothing. She wasn't going to let him get inside her head.

This time, the dragon-slaying hero Griffin wasn't lying to manipulate her.

He genuinely believed it.

Then his pupils snapped tight.

The noble knights he had sent to handle the young man were scattered across the floor in every direction. Armor shattered. Weapons snapped clean through. Not a single one had kept its shape.

The only person still standing was the mental-control mage.

He was casting in a frenzy, over and over, voice cracking: "Domination Magic! Domination Magic! Domination Magic!"

"Why?! Why does it do absolutely nothing to you?!" The mage's voice broke into a shriek.

"If you're asking why..." Banxia scratched the back of his head. "Honestly? Probably just because you're too weak."

"Weak..." For the first time in his life, a life that had begun wrapped in praise and never stopped, that mage looked inward and found something he didn't like.

"Slash."

A thin line of force sheared through the mage's skull.

It moved too fast for a single defensive spell. The mage's body went rigid, tipped backward, and hit the stone floor with a flat thud.

Without the mage's mental hold, the adventurers swayed where they stood and dropped, one after another, like puppets with cut strings.

"Why are you looking at me? Go back to your fight." Banxia glanced up and found the old man's eyes on him.

"How..."

Griffin's throat had gone tight.

Born gifted, grown into a dragon-slaying hero revered across the land, life had run smooth from beginning to end, and there had been almost no obstacle he couldn't clear.

But this young man standing before him, not even half his age, had just shown strength that matched his own peak without apparent effort.

The shock was real. He pushed it down. The situation was bad, and he needed a different angle.

"Young man." His voice steadied. "Do you desire infinite lifespan, and infinite time?"

➤ Next: In Five Hundred Years, What Will You Have Left!