Volume 4 Chapter 10 Quest： The Thunder-Clad Bull ②
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The black rock slope inclined at about fifteen degrees—a steep angle, though hardly an obstacle for the four of them.
Kian and the others quickly climbed to the spot where the Minotaurs had vanished. There, the rock face bore a massive hole large enough to fit three pairs of Isthbaran and Kian standing side by side. Because the slope and the entrance angled downward into the earth, the opening could not be seen from the beach below.
”The passage extends far inward. Quite spacious… This is more a labyrinth than a burrow,” Isthbaran observed, standing at the entrance and peering into the depths.
”It could be an artificial labyrinth,” Aliona replied beside Kian. She pressed her palm against the perfectly straight wall of the ancient cavern. “There are telltale alchemical traces formed when shaping rock with magic.”
Though the wall was straight, there were uneven ridges—fibrous, almost like the torn strands of cheese or mushrooms—matching Aliona’s description.
”In Cretan religion,” Isthbaran remarked, “the underworld is said to lie beneath the earth.”
”In the modern West,” Aliona countered, “it’s believed to be inside the Spiritual Vein—though that’s only among those with magical aptitude.”
”This ominous entrance,” Isthbaran added gravely, “truly resembles a gateway to the underworld.”
”Not going in?” Leanan sídhe asked calmly.
Kian exchanged glances with Aliona before stepping to the front of the group. “There could be another Minotaur ambush. Stay alert. Isthbaran, you take the rear.”
”Yes,” Isthbaran acknowledged.
Aliona spoke again, her tone pragmatic. “It might sound odd for a magician to advise seasoned swordsmen, but avoid using long weapons like greatswords. Knives or bare hands will serve you better in tight spaces.”
”Understood,” Kian said, while Isthbaran gave a firm “Mm.”
Following her advice, Kian conjured two large knives, engraving each blade with familiar reinforcement runes. Forged from the island’s black rock, the blades gleamed smooth and dark. A little longer, and they would have resembled the curved swords of Azrael’s warrior monks.
With his vampiric super senses fully open, Kian led them into the gaping passage—more a massive underground corridor than a burrow. True to Isthbaran’s earlier words, it twisted like a maze, descending not in a straight path but turning sharply right, then left, splitting often enough to disorient intruders.
Several times they chose wrong turns, reaching dead ends before doubling back. The pitch-black darkness made it even easier to lose one’s way.
Fortunately, all four could see through darkness to some degree, and Aliona had released a bird-shaped golem carrying a luminous magic stone, ensuring there was never a shortage of light.
Both Isthbaran and Aliona drafted maps as they went, but Kian needed none. His mind automatically constructed a three-dimensional map of the labyrinth as they explored. After the initial errors, they made no further wrong turns.
It seemed the true path led steadily toward the center of the underground world—directly beneath the island’s heart.
Most wrong paths ended quickly, but after an hour of walking, Kian began to notice a change. Structurally, he deduced, the dead-end paths now ended in larger chambers. Unless there was some compelling reason to explore them, he opted to follow only the routes that continued.
”Kian, stop.”
At the twenty-second fork, Aliona’s calm, feminine voice echoed softly against the black stone.
”What is it?” Kian asked.
”Look in that corner. Isn’t that an ‘Underworld Smoke Crystal’?”
She moved into the wrong path at his right, the bird golem gliding silently behind her. Having learned advanced golem theory from Sarah and Rufna, she now far surpassed Sarah in fine control—whereas Sarah, limited to insect golems, struggled without autonomous activation.
”This is it,” Aliona murmured, kneeling near the corner.
Kian, Leanan sídhe, and Isthbaran gathered around her.
In the dim light, they saw it: a gray, flower-like formation, its petals slowly opening and closing.
(Alive…?) Kian wondered.
”As I thought,” Aliona said. “This matches the description in Ms. Priscilla’s request—an ‘Underworld Smoke Crystal.’ Small, but unmistakable.”
The commission’s sketch had shown pale petals, slightly clouded, with a note clarifying that despite their floral appearance, the crystals were mineral. Their sharply pointed “petals” could cut unprotected skin with ease.
”Be careful, Ms. Aliona,” Isthbaran cautioned. “If that is truly an Underworld Smoke Crystal, it is pure poison.”
”Yes,” she agreed. “It anchors to rock, drawing toxins upward and concentrating them in its petals—producing deadly venom. Ancient texts suggest it may be a living being, despite being classified as a mineral. You know… stone-cold.”
”…What?” Leanan sídhe’s brow furrowed in distaste.
”Magnificent, Lady Aliona!” Isthbaran declared. “Most amusing!”
”Lady Aliona,” Isthbaran continued earnestly, “I regret missing the humor. Could you explain the jest?”
”…Never mind, General.”
”Hm? I see…” Isthbaran tilted his head in confusion.
Beside him, Leanan sídhe pulled out a leather pouch. “I’ll harvest it. Poison doesn’t affect me. You should step back—poison is your weakness.”
Aliona stood and moved beside Kian. Leanan sídhe transformed her right hand into talon-like claws, tearing into the rock as if it were ice.
”Later, we’ll separate the crystals from the rock,” she said. “There are many beautiful poisonous specimens along this path. Kian, is this the correct route?”
”No. It should end in a chamber,” Kian replied.
”Let’s go see,” Isthbaran suggested.
The others nodded, and Kian led the way. Soon the passage widened into a square chamber, its corners crowded with huge gray flowers—no, crystals—each subtly opening and closing.
Priscilla’s request called for thirty kilograms of labyrinth smoke crystals. Wanting only the best quality, they collected an extra sixty kilograms. The chamber was densely packed with them.
Aliona summoned the head of a sandworm to store the crystals. When Kian asked if the poison was dangerous, she explained that sandworms were immune—and that it wasn’t eating them.
”I can sense the finest pieces,” Leanan sídhe remarked, storing her share in a pocket dimension.
”In bright light, the difference will be obvious,” she added.
Kian’s lips curved faintly.
”That’s quite a bit of confidence,” he said.
”It’s no different than choosing ingredients for the General and for Aliona,” Leanan sídhe replied with quiet assurance.
Isthbaran gave a low chuckle. “Indeed. Your cooking is unexpectedly good.”
”I trained under Robert.”
He thought to himself that perhaps it wasn’t entirely true, but kept the thought unspoken. After all, he had never once tasted Leanan sídhe’s cooking.
”Well then,” Aliona said, rising from where she had been leaning against the wall, “shall we return the way we came?”
She had been idly watching Leanan sídhe, Isthbaran, and Kian as they foraged. Now she straightened, brushing dust from her sleeves.
”Do you still sense those Minotaurs from earlier, Kian? General?” she asked.
”I don’t,” Kian answered.
”They’re obscured,” Isthbaran said, his tone grave, “by a strong wave of magic power.”
That wave — raw, untamed — was radiating from somewhere near the center of the underground passage. Kian was not as sensitive to magic surges as Isthbaran, but even he could feel its faint tremor in the air. If they could sense it from this far away, the source must be immensely powerful.
Perhaps it was the master of this Underground Labyrinth. Possibly even the leader of those strange Minotaurs — the very one whose heart Priscilla sought: the Immortal Minotaur.
”And if the one in the center of this passage is the Immortal Minotaur?” Isthbaran asked, sweeping his gaze across them.
”We’ll have to neutralize it,” Kian said, “but how will we carry its heart? If the heart is the condensation core for muscle and bone during regeneration, removing it could cause flesh to gather around it — reviving the creature.”
”In that case,” Aliona replied, her voice steady, “I’ll enclose the heart in a barrier magic that slows its movement to a crawl. Consider it frozen in time. You and the General just focus on cutting it out — leave the rest to me.”
”Understood. I’m counting on you, Lady Aliona,” Isthbaran said with a respectful nod.
(Talia, if Aliona fails, be ready to seal the heart yourself — freeze it or something along those lines.)
’Vague orders,’ Talia muttered, but her mouth quirked. ‘Fine. If she fails, I’ll handle it.’
Leanan sídhe glanced in the direction of the magic wave.
”If the enemy is the leader of those Minotaurs clad in Blue Thunder Stone,” she said, “they will surely use lightning attacks. I plan to bloom roses to scatter that electricity into the ground — but if they close the distance and channel it directly into us, there’s no counter. Be careful, both of you.”
Kian and Isthbaran nodded silently. Together, they retraced their steps from the chamber where they had gathered the Underworld Smoke Crystal back to the original fork in the path.
Of the two materials remaining, they already had a lead on the Heart of the Immortal Minotaur. The Death Fruit, however, remained elusive. According to the text Priscilla had deciphered, it was a plant that bloomed in Crete’s public cemetery — except Crete had no public cemetery.
Two possibilities came to mind:
One was a temporary storage site for the corpses brought in by the Minotaurs — essentially their larder. Such a place would hold many human corpses, and perhaps the Death Fruit would bloom where human remains lay.
The other was a dumping ground for the remnants of eaten or cooked bodies — akin to a shell midden in the Kingdom of Crete. This, too, would resemble a cemetery in environment and could be a potential location.
Kian thought privately that if the plant used photosynthesis, it was unlikely to bloom in a cold, dark storehouse. The midden, with its possible holes in the ceiling allowing light, seemed more plausible — though with a name like “Death Fruit,” it might not follow any ordinary plant’s life cycle.
(If it turned out to grow along the island’s coastline, we’d have to collect it after defeating the Labyrinth’s master… inconvenient, since that would delay our return.)
”Sir Kian.”
Isthbaran’s sudden whisper cut through his thoughts. The older man had pressed an ear against the stone wall.
”The Minotaurs from before,” Isthbaran said. “Two walls ahead, in a large chamber.”
”I can feel them too,” Kian replied. “If so, that chamber may well be their larder.”
”Do you know a detour,” Aliona asked, “or should we make a hole in the wall?”
”If we take the right path at that fork, we can circle around to two walls ahead,” Isthbaran said, pointing.
”All three present?” Kian asked.
”Yes.”
”Then we approach silently, kill two instantly, and take the third before it can raise the alarm.”
”Understood,” Isthbaran replied.
”And if they don’t die?” Aliona asked coolly.
”We steal the heart and clear the quest.”
”That means ignoring whatever is in the center of the Labyrinth.”
”Right. No need to take unnecessary risks.”
As he said it, Kian realized it contradicted his earlier decision to face the giant sea serpent. But such thoughts were trivial — and thinking that way was no way to attract women.
With Aliona’s barrier cloaking their presence, they chose the “wrong” path — the one likely leading to the larder. The passage curved like a hook, looping back toward the location two walls ahead.
There — two Minotaurs stood beneath an arch of stone, their horns glowing with cold blue phosphorescence. From deeper inside came the wet, grisly sound of bone snapping and flesh tearing — the third was preparing its meal.
Kian met Isthbaran’s eyes, then dissolved into a mist, leaving behind only a flicker of red phosphorescence. He reappeared behind the farther Minotaur and, in the same breath, severed its head with a single stroke.
There had been no resistance — but Kian knew the beast had sensed him, reacting almost instantly. Before absorbing Talia’s factor — back when he’d barely managed to defeat Oswald — such an assassination would have been blocked at the arm. But Ramsey had changed him; he was no longer merely human. Even with the reaction, the creature could not defend.
Meanwhile, Isthbaran had already decapitated the nearer Minotaur. He was no assassin, but his warrior’s skill was impeccable. The beast, distracted by Kian’s appearance, had turned its back completely, and Isthbaran’s strike was flawless. Even if its neck muscles had been as strong as a griffin’s feathered neck, they were nothing before the old warrior’s strength and precision.
Kian and Isthbaran lowered their knives, standing over the fallen beasts. From the shadows, vines uncoiled from Leanan sídhe’s arms, catching the severed heads. More vines erupted from the ground — sprouting from beneath her bare feet — to cradle the limp bodies, lowering them gently to rest.
Even after beheading the creature, Kian maintained lingering focus just in case it regenerated. But the dead minotaur’s body never stirred again.
He melted back into the shadows of the ancient cavern, vanishing from sight. In the rear chamber, the final beast—its back turned while butchering meat—never noticed his approach. Crossing his twin knives like a pair of shears, Kian swept them in a clean arc.
Shunk.
The satisfying slice sent the head of the towering, two-meter bull-monster spinning through the air. Catching its horn—crafted from rare Blue Thunder Stone before the head could fall—he leapt back to the entrance in a single bound, careful to avoid the spray of blood.
From Aliona’s perspective, his movement would have been little more than a flicker—one instant absent, the next reappearing with the severed head in hand. Kian thought with quiet satisfaction that it was a fine display for his beloved to witness.
”Oh, there’s an Underworld Smoke Crystal here too,” Aliona remarked casually.
She… didn’t even see it? Kian thought, disheartened.
”Looks like they’re all dead,” Aliona added.
Blood spurted in rhythm with the slowing beat of the monster’s absent heart, pulsing from the ragged stump of its neck. Leanan sídhe, restraining the third corpse with thick underground vines, popped her head around from Kian’s side to peer into the room.
”Impressive work, my lord,” Isthbaran said.
”You as well,” Kian replied. “It seems your body’s speed is truly exceptional.”
”Yes,” he agreed. “Now it’s only a matter of adapting to it. That part, unfortunately, is harder. Age tends to slow one’s adjustment.”
”Oh, come now—you’re still young, General,” Aliona teased.
”And you are young to me, Ms. Aliona,” Leanan sídhe countered.
”Eh!? Fufu… thank you, Ms. Leanan sídhe.”
Kian kept a stoic expression, steel will keeping him from reacting. Beside him, Isthbaran ignored the exchange entirely, crouching over the rapidly cooling minotaur corpse.
”It won’t be reviving,” Isthbaran observed. “The heart has… yes, stopped. It kept moving for a short while, but now—no more.”
”So it wasn’t an immortal minotaur,” Aliona concluded, resting her hands on her knees as she examined the severed head Kian held. Despite its grotesque appearance, the high elf magician showed no trace of fear.
”Other than its ability to store electricity, perhaps it was just an ordinary monster,” she mused.
”Perhaps,” Kian said. “For now, let’s have the sandworm consume the corpses. If we have time, I’d like to research them. And the Blue Thunder Stone horns—let’s give them to Mrs. Camilla. They’re different from common magic stones, but the rare thunder energy inside might be useful for crafting magic tools or golem cores.”
”If the quantity is limited, they won’t serve as a replacement material,” Isthbaran noted.
”Aliona, may I have one of the corpses?” Leanan sídhe asked, watching as Aliona summoned the sandworm’s head from her extradimensional storage.
”I want to absorb its cells.”
”What for?” Kian asked.
Leanan sídhe extended her right hand. White, elegant fingers bubbled and warped, flesh and bone altering. Within a heartbeat, coarse brown bull fur sprouted across her skin.
”Vampire Transformation Ability,” she said.
Relaxing her body, she released the breath she had held. The fur disintegrated into a sprinkling of white powder, fading into the rock floor, and within a second her arm had returned to its original form.
”By retaining the cells, I can temporarily gain the abilities or resistances of the absorbed creature. I was adjusted by Mrs. Camilla, so I can imitate a shapeshifter like this.”
”That’s amazing!” Kian exclaimed.
”Amazing…? There are limits,” she cautioned. “Transformation is temporary, and once the cells are metabolized, I can’t transform again. If the creature’s existence is too far above my own, I’ll fail to fully replicate it.”
”It’s enough,” Isthbaran said. “It means you could gain resistance to lightning, correct?”
Leanan sídhe nodded. “And I can mimic their raw strength, for a time.”
”Then we’ll keep one corpse,” Kian decided. “The sandworm can have the other two.”
”Since it’s a vampire ability, does that mean I could use it too?” Kian asked eagerly.
”Who knows?” Leanan sídhe frowned, her expression reminiscent of Esther. “You’re only imitating a vampire. Even if you mimic the outer form, can you alter your insides?”
”He can,” a voice interjected.
It was Talia—her mouth emerging from the bulge of Kian’s bicep.
”But only through me,” the vampire princess continued. “Kian himself doesn’t know yet. My blood should have advanced his vampirization enough that it’s not impossible…”
”In that case, we should keep one for Kian,” Aliona suggested. “Though that means only one experimental sample left… a shame.”
”I can permanently record absorbed cells,” Talia explained. “It’s part of Erynys’s authority. But since I’m only an arm, my capacity is limited. I should prioritize the highest-value abilities.”
”And how would I absorb them?” Kian asked.
”Either you eat it,” Talia said matter-of-factly, “or I dissolve the flesh and… administer it rectally.”
”What!? I—I’m a… backdoor virgin!” Kian sputtered.
”In any case, this isn’t something to rush,” Talia said smoothly. “Leanan sídhe can safely absorb it without risk of illness or poison, but your human digestive tract warrants caution.”
”If Kian caught some unknown disease here,” Aliona added, “even healing magic might not be enough. As Ms. Talia says, recklessness could weaken the party.”
”If we do attempt it…” Kian glanced at the chamber wall, toward the faint thrum of immense magic power beyond. “The strongest specimen would give the greatest return.”
”I still don’t understand your obsession with body enhancement,” Leanan sídhe said.
”Ms. Leanan sídhe,” Kian replied gravely, “in this world, the weak are trampled by the strong. Power is necessary. And beyond that—” he looked to Aliona, “—as a man, I wish to pursue the greatest strength, to protect my beloved Ms. Aliona.”
”My…” Aliona smiled. “Fufufu.”
”Hohoho. This is starting to sound dangerous,” Leanan muttered.
His tone suggested indifference, but he fully intended to lend aid if necessary—at least enough to hold off either Sarah or Linca. Without a pincer attack, escape was possible. Kian planned to vanish until tempers cooled, then return in ten days to grovel for forgiveness.
’A pig’s… thing. You’re not ashamed thinking that?’ a voice teased inside his mind.
(I didn’t say it—just thought it.)
’Awful. And yet… perhaps that’s why you could be king. At least you won’t have trouble with heirs, unlike my father.’
”…Beginning absorption,” Leanan sídhe announced.
Her right arm transformed into a thick vine, coiling around the minotaur corpse like a serpent. Once it fully enclosed the body, the vine pulsed—thump, thump—and began to contract, sucking away flesh and bone with wet, slithering sounds. It was, in its own way, more unsettling than watching butchery.
”Done,” she said at last. “Hmm… looks like I can do this.”
Extending both hands, she summoned a multitude of hair-thin tendrils from her palms—less like tentacles, more like the delicate stems of plants.
The stalk gradually took shape, splitting into two forms resembling a pair of gloves. At the wrists, small rose petals bloomed delicately.
”These gloves can absorb lightning,” she explained calmly. “The lightning absorbed will be metabolized into blue thunderstone. However, once I finish fully metabolizing the Minotaur cells, the gloves will lose their power.”
”Oh!” exclaimed Isthbaran. “How skillfully made.”
”A convenient ability,” said another with a smirk. “No wonder the lady holds you in such high regard.”
”Even so, being valued isn’t particularly pleasing,” she replied, her tone flat.
”Fortune comes in pairs,” Isthbaran said, pointing ahead. “Everyone—look there. That must be the ‘Death Fruit.’”
Already wearing the gloves, Isthbaran gestured toward the stone pedestal where human flesh had been dismembered. Though they were long accustomed to corpses, some sights never became less disturbing, and they had avoided looking too closely. Yet beyond the neatly butchered body of a woman—her abdomen split open—lay scattered, fist-sized fruits as red as fresh blood, tossed about carelessly.
Whether it amounted to a full kilogram was uncertain, but it seemed enough to prepare Sarahda (T/N: unknown dish name) for three or four people.
”So this is the Death Fruit,” murmured Kian.
Aliona stepped into the room, the stench of rot thick in the air. Kian quickly moved ahead of her, approaching the pedestal where the woman’s decaying flesh rested.
Just as depicted in Priscilla’s request document, the ‘Death Fruit’ resembled a large, seedless strawberry. It appeared to have been prepped—there was no green calyx (T/N: stem/leaves at top of fruit).
A knife could slice it cleanly, ready to be plated. Yet, if Priscilla’s information was correct, the fruit was lethally poisonous and not fit for consumption.
”They must be eating it,” Aliona observed, glancing at the mutilated corpse. “I doubt they care about the visual appeal of their meals, unlike us.”
”It seems the ‘Death Fruit’ indeed grows on this island,” another remarked. “The calyx has been removed, but shall we take what’s here?”
”Let’s take it,” Kian said firmly. “Ms. Leanan sídhe, can I trust you with this?”
Leanan sídhe nodded and began placing the red fruit into a leather pouch. When finished, she stored it away in a separate space beyond sight.
Kian turned to the group. “Let’s move on. I have no desire to dine in this Underground Labyrinth the way they do.”
Notes:
• Isthbaran – The High Warlord of the ‘Storm Herd.’
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
• Camilla – A woman; the subject of the chapter; her body was used to seal Erynys’ soul.
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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