Chapter 125
The Labyrinth's Central Hall.
Humans, Werewolves, Vampires, and Wolf, Bear, and Sheep Beastmen were all looking at an Elderly Person.
Cecilia and I were also looking at the elderly person.
It was, of course, Old Man Ban.
“He says he’s put on his armor and has the weapon his grandson made for him. Now all he needs is magic stones and bullets, so he’s demanding they be brought quickly.”
At the words of Lou, my Interpreter, I looked at Old Man Ban with a troubled expression.
All the other Guild Masters had similar expressions to mine.
“They’re saying it’s madness to leave his grandson, John, behind and join the Floor 7 expedition. Now that his body has recovered and he can speak again, they’re telling him to just spend some quiet time with his grandson.”
At Mayor Ragot’s words, I also nodded.
Three hundred years.
For a staggering three hundred years, this Family had been tirelessly developing Labyrinth Exploration Technology, trying to overcome a situation where no one believed them.
Now, no one would blame Old Man Ban if he handed things over to his successors and rested for a while.
But the Elderly Person was unyielding.
He looked at me and spoke clearly, not in the Northern language, but in the Imperial Common Language.
“Even if I die, I will die in the Labyrinth.”
“Mr. Ban. No one will blame you if you don’t do that. You’ve done enough. Please stay by your grandson’s side.”
Ban smiled at my words.
“If this cranky old man stays by his grandson’s side in his twilight years, we’ll only fight. My grandson already gets sick of hearing about the Family’s mission, the Hero’s destiny, or saving the World. He dislikes me. He doesn’t even understand what I’m trying to do.”
Ban patted his chest.
“It doesn’t matter if John doesn’t understand. The greatest treasure this old man can pass on to his Descendant is honor: Proof that what was considered a lie for three hundred years, something no one believed, was actually true. I want to obtain that with my own hands, pass it on to my grandson, and then die. Please take me with you.”
The Guild Masters looked at the Elderly Person with expressions full of pity and regret.
And I felt the same.
What should I say?
It was a moment when it was hard to make a proper judgment on whether this was truly the right choice.
“How about taking him?”
Cecilia’s cautious voice was heard.
“If the Saint had told my father, “Don”t ever do business, as it’s a way to protect you,’ would my father have been happy? I don’t think so. Wouldn’t it be right to help three hundred years of effort and hard work bear fruit?”
At Cecilia’s words, I looked at the Shotgun Old Man Ban was holding.
Its sleek, elongated body.
The carefully polished and oiled wooden stock.
The leather on the barrel shroud was as if personally tanned.
It was a weapon from his grandson, John, that seemed to scream, “Don’t ever die!”
I bowed my head and pondered for a long time, then let out a deep sigh.
“Mayor Ragot, Is Mr. Ban skilled enough?”
Mayor Ragot smiled at my words.
“Every Guild Master here grew up hearing the legends of Grandpa Ban. Every Hunter here is a beneficiary of the legacy created by Ban’s Family. Ban was also the first Hunter to find a Passage to Floor 7. Do you need any more praise for his skill?”
“So, his skill is sufficient, then?”
“Of course. It wasn’t because of his skill that everyone was trying to stop Ban. It’s just that someone who had been bedridden for twenty years had barely recovered, and it didn’t seem right for him to immediately insist on going down without even taking time to properly talk with his Family.”
I looked at Old Man Ban.
Old Man Ban was constantly swallowing dry saliva, watching my reaction.
I met his gaze for a moment, then let out a small laugh.
“Please stay by my side, Mr. Ban. I’d like you to take on the role of escorting me along with the Golden Company. That way, even if you get hurt, I can provide treatment to ensure you don’t die.”
At my words, a bright smile spread across Ban’s face. He rushed over to me, grabbed my hand, and shook it.
“I will never disappoint you, Saint! Never! We must succeed! Let’s show the light to the one who has been stuck down there for three hundred years!”
After saying that, Ban quickly ran to Mayor Ragot.
And he chattered something in the Northern language, extending his hand.
It wasn’t Lou, but Cecilia who provided the interpretation.
“He’s shouting for weapons befitting a great Warrior.”
Old Man Ban’s face looked incredibly bright and lively, almost unbelievable for a wrinkled face.
He certainly didn’t look like someone heading to his death.
***
After three days of preparation, the Expedition Preparation was finally complete.
Even after busily moving around everywhere to the point where I worried her shoes would wear out, Cecilia, who still had energy and had followed all the way to the expedition’s send-off ceremony, was looking at me with a bright, clear expression, without the slightest hint of exhaustion.
“Cecilia. You overdid it yesterday, didn’t you? You could rest today.”
At my words, Cecilia shook her head and approached me.
She gently took my hand and carefully kissed the back of it.
“My life has been yours forever, from the moment the Saint saved me from the rotting sickness. Please, come back alive. You are a miracle, so I have no doubt you will achieve a miracle this time too.”
I smiled at Cecilia.
“I’ll come back alive. Let’s meet again in the Mortal Realm.”
Cecilia waved goodbye to me.
Countless Hunters were exchanging what might be their final goodbyes with their Families.
Some were shedding tears, while others smiled as if in belief.
The Golden Company, as if to reassure such people, displayed their crisply ironed uniforms.
Mayor Ragot gave a short and impactful final speech.
The Expedition Team officially began its Floor 7 expedition.
One hundred Golden Company Members and Old Man Ban were protecting me.
I was thoroughly escorted, riding in a small carriage pulled by a Barag, a transport animal, along with Lou the Interpreter and Priest Mathieu.
The Barag, a Magic Beast that looked like a half-mix of a cow and a horse, was steadily moving forward, constantly making snorting sounds.
*Inside the cramped carriage, our faces were close enough to see each other.*
As I was the Trump Card and the Healer for when the Wounded appeared, there was nothing for me to do immediately.
Naturally, I started chatting with Lou the Interpreter and Priest Mathieu.
“I didn’t expect Priest Mathieu to come along.”
Priest Mathieu smiled at my words.
“I’ve spent half my life in the Labyrinth. I’m practically a Hunter myself. Besides, isn’t this about recovering a lost Deity? Might I not be needed to calm him down if we happen to meet Lord Ponemkin on Floor 7?”
“True. He might need at least one person who worships him.”
I looked out the window at Old Man Ban, who was walking alongside.
His waist was full of 10-gauge Shotgun shells.
And an artifact made from processed magic stones hung from his wrist.
His boisterous laughter, as he chattered something in the Northern language, echoed all around.
“Why on earth didn’t the Cult of Heroes and the Empire listen to Ban’s Family? If they had provided support earlier, we could have reached Floor 7 much sooner.”
Priest Mathieu nodded, as if understanding my words.
“Now that Karim’s Flag has been found, it might seem incomprehensible. But from the Empire’s and the Cult’s perspective, there were reasons why they couldn’t help it. Do you know the two Cults that Scammers love the most?”
I had never heard such a thing before.
When I tilted my head, Priest Mathieu quietly pointed a finger at me, then at himself.
“The Cult of Grace and the Cult of Heroes. As the Saint knows well, the Cult of Grace talks about Saints without stigmata, which made it easy and convenient for Scammers to impersonate them.”
Grandpa Yodel had once told me that there were still Scammers impersonating False Saints in the Southern Region.
The Cult of Grace, I could understand. But what about the Cult of Heroes?
“Why do Scammers like the Cult of Heroes?”
“It happened because Karim, the Last Hero, was so famous, and his appearance had a special, easily recognizable feature.”
Priest Mathieu pointed to his own eyes.
“Hero Karim was said to be a man with Divine Blue Eyes, as if taken from the sky. His azure gaze was said to be capable of piercing through people’s souls and the sins within them. The problem was that these Divine Blue Eyes, which could see into people’s souls, were too easy to imitate with simple Magic.”
Priest Mathieu smiled bitterly.
“It was perhaps natural that Scammers who could cast simple Magic would cast simple Illusion Magic to make their eyes glow blue, then start going around claiming to be a Descendant of Hero Karim.”
The problem was the Cult of Heroes’ desperation.
In their desperation to find their fallen god in the Mortal Realm, the Cult of Heroes went around daily, seeking out scammers who claimed to be Karim’s descendants, trying to verify their authenticity.
By the time he finished explaining, I had a rough idea of the situation.
Old Man Ban’s eyes didn’t have anything resembling a blue light.
“So, with people claiming to be Hero Karim’s Descendants popping up everywhere, there was no one to believe what Ban’s Family was saying.”
“They couldn’t possibly believe the words of Family members whose eyes didn’t even have a blue light. Ban’s Family was able to survive because it was in the Great Labyrinth Region. Most Impostors claiming to be Descendants of the Hero were purged by the Cult.”
The Cult naturally thought that Ban’s Family were also impersonators claiming to be Descendants of the Hero.
However, because of the incident caused by Foolish Emperor Nero, the Pantheon couldn’t send Cult Troops into the Great Labyrinth to wipe out Ban’s Family, a respected Hunter Family.
Because of that, Ban’s Family was able to persist, and Priest Mathieu explained that they changed their approach to bringing back evidence to prove to the world that what they were saying was true.
“Then Ban’s Family aren’t descendants of the True Hero? They don’t have blue eyes, do they?”
“We don’t know.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hero Karim led all the Veteran Priests and Paladins of the Cult of Heroes on an expedition at the time. Not a single one of them returned. During the Heavenly War, Evil God Followers and Demon Worshippers concentrated their attacks on the Cult of Heroes’ Headquarters, causing many Recording Mediums to be lost. There’s a reason why we were a Minor Cult, Saint.”
Priest Mathieu let out a long sigh.
“We don’t know how Hero Karim’s Divine Blue Eyes are manifested, whether it’s genetic or some power bestowed by a god. The only thing we can guess is that we might find out once we rescue the God of Courage.”
“*Truly*... just hearing about it makes me feel stifled.”
Lou the Interpreter, who had been listening, spoke up.
“What kind of Scammer would grind down his or her entire Family for three hundred years just to go to Labyrinth Floor 7? With that much effort and devotion, it’s enough to believe it’s a True Hero Family.”
Priest Mathieu smiled bitterly at Lou’s words, which were filled with pity.
“I’m not trying to disparage their three hundred years of dedication and effort. I know their passion better than anyone. But precisely because of that, the Cult might have found it even harder to believe them.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It means the problem was that it was *too* plausible. There were two unprecedented Scammers who captivated people with such plausible attitudes, one two hundred years ago, and another one hundred years ago.”
Two hundred years ago, there was a certain Noble Family that, for a staggering one hundred years, generation after generation, had been purely seeking Hero Karim.
“The Evil God, intending to corrupt the entire Noble Family, dressed up one of his Followers to look unmistakably like a Descendant of Hero Karim and had him approach them. It succeeded. The entire Noble Family, which accepted the Follower without suspicion, became corrupted, leading to a major disaster where the entire region died from Curse Infection.”
By this point, I also grew curious.
“So, what happened a hundred years ago?”
“A Descendant of Hero Karim, so perfect that most of the High-ranking Priests of the Cult of Heroes were deceived, appeared. He was a being who could pierce through people’s hearts with brilliant blue eyes. Because of that person, the Cult of Heroes was split in half and fought amongst themselves. Eventually, he was revealed to be a scammer, but by then, nearly half of the Cult had already turned into apostates.”
Priest Mathieu let out a slight grinding sound with his teeth.
“He was a Lucifer Follower. After being deceived so greatly twice, the Cult changed its stance. It declared that they would no longer recognize someone as a Descendant of the Hero just because they possessed Blue Eyes. It changed its stance to only acknowledge someone if they brought back the relics of the Last Hero.”
“So that’s why Ban...”
“I believed in the sincerity of Ban and his Family, but not everyone in the Cult agreed with my thoughts.”
I looked at Ban with pity for a moment, then something occurred to me, and I looked back at Priest Mathieu.
“I understand that Demon Followers and Evil God Followers can live far beyond the average human lifespan.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Couldn’t that Lucifer Follower who was active a hundred years ago be down in the Great Labyrinth right now?”
I heard that over two thousand Lucifer Followers were on the move.
It was probably clear that they had sent their best Followers.
Then that unprecedented Scammer who shook the entire Cult of Heroes...
...couldn’t he be with them too?
“It’s not impossible. If you happen to encounter him, you must be careful of the Magic Beasts he controls.”
“What kind of Magic Beast is it?”
“*A two-horned*...”
Priest Mathieu’s voice was cut off by a gunshot.
“Eleven o’clock!! Magic Beasts!! Fire!!”
The Imperial Common Language and the Northern language, shouted by the Golden Company, briefly mingled.
Soon, an immense amount of firepower, enough to shake the ground, began to be projected in one direction.