Labyrinth City — Part 1
Aachen.
From the sky, it looked like an enormous snail.
Its strange texture and fluorescent shell spiraled inward in a tight coil. Above it, a shimmering aurora rippled in vivid colors.
If one looked closely at the aurora, they could see solemn divine symbols and profound magical runes drifting through it.
That was the Grand Labyrinth.
The giant snail-like shell visible aboveground was merely the entrance. The true labyrinth lay deep beneath the earth.
It was a dimensional space where the corpses of gods slain in the War of Divine Annihilation wandered, reanimated, and the phantoms of forgotten gods ruled unperturbed.
These beings, now demons, launched relentless assaults. Thus, the Guardian Alliance continued to defend the Labyrinth City and launch expeditions into the Grand Labyrinth.
‘Wasn’t it somewhere around here?’
The Guardian Alliance—the strongest organization of humankind, with membership restricted to those of at least Level 5.
I scanned the headquarters of this powerful group.
Unlike the bizarre Grand Labyrinth, the building itself was a thoroughly modern structure.
But that wasn’t my destination.
After giving the headquarters a quick once-over, I headed into a back alley.
‘What was the name of that place again?’
Not all members of the Guardians were flush with cash. If money were their primary goal, they’d have gone into business or found employment instead.
Most Guardians pursued one goal: leveling up.
Fighting demons every single day drained immense resources and funds, so this alley was packed with relatively cheap bars.
Of course, they didn’t just sell alcohol.
You could indulge in every kind of pleasure here.
‘Diana.’
At last, I remembered.
It was the name I recalled after pacing this alley of indulgence multiple times.
I’ve said it before, but the real problem with Arcane Seoul as a mobile game is its limited interactivity. Just a single illustration and a few shop options to choose from—it’s a miracle I found this place at all.
It was still daytime.
Luckily, BAR Diana was open for business.
The moment I pushed open the door, a thick cloud of drug-laced smoke assaulted my senses—eyes, nose, mouth, ears, and skin all at once.
What kind of drug was this?
I instinctively equipped the [Indomitable] and [Drug Resistance] traits.
Only then did the queasiness in my stomach settle.
It was likely some potent narcotic favored by high-level superhumans.
“Phew…”
A languid afternoon.
The madam, casually smoking a drug-laced cigarette, exhaled a long plume of smoke.
Within the cloud, flashes of light coalesced, creating a vivid scene of a man and a woman locked in a passionate kiss.
“Your face is new. Looking for something?”
She initially spoke in German but quickly switched to English.
Good thing I understood English.
Still, her face looked familiar.
A face I’d seen in the game.
However, in the game, her eyes were replaced with magical prosthetics, and she didn’t have those metallic demon-like horns embedded in her temples.
Without hesitation, I took a seat in front of the madam.
“A cocktail. Do you have Belphegor’s Diligence?”
“Of course. First time here? Who told you about us?”
“A friend recommended it.”
“Hehe. Gentlemen are always welcome.”
With an elegant flourish, the madam mixed the cocktail and handed it to me.
The drink was a faintly translucent blue.
I downed it in one gulp, feeling a warm surge of energy ignite within my stomach.
The madam watched me with a sly smile.
“You certainly know how to drink. I can’t stand those people who just toy with their drinks.”
“Isn’t a cocktail meant to be savored slowly?”
“It’s up to the person who makes it.”
“Well, you’re not wrong.”
I slowly glanced around the bar.
Besides me, there were only two other patrons—both old men.
The two men weren’t interested in me, quietly muttering to each other instead.
The windows were dimly shaded, and most of the lights were off, leaving the interior dark and gloomy.
Almost everything matched my memories—except for one thing.
‘Sigmund isn’t here…’
The most secluded seat in the corner.
Normally, a drunkard would be seated there, endlessly drinking.
If you ordered Belphegor’s Diligence upon entering, he’d immediately ask you to buy him a drink too.
In the game, befriending that drunkard and completing three specific tasks would allow you to inherit an advanced martial art technique.
But it seemed I was off track from the very beginning.
‘This is set a few years before the game’s timeline, so things are a bit different.’
I calmly revisited my memories.
What did the game’s description of Sigmund’s character say?
[…Sigmund was once a promising Guardian, both diligent and a devoted husband…]
[…But after a sudden tragedy claimed his wife, Sigmund fell into despair and turned to alcohol to drown his sorrows…]
[…Should you rehabilitate him and recruit him, Sigmund will become a formidable frontline fighter, pledging his loyalty to you…]
That was it.
At this point in time, Sigmund hadn’t yet lost his wife.
Which meant he had no reason to come here.
‘How am I supposed to find him?’
This was a problem.
The only thing I knew about Sigmund was that he always came to this bar.
His home address?
Of course, I didn’t know that.
Could I try asking around at the Guardian Alliance headquarters?
That would be tough.
The Guardians had such a high barrier to entry that you couldn’t even step inside without proper credentials. If I were Level 5, I could at least request a tour, but at Level 4, I’d be turned away immediately.
After wracking my brain, I came up with one idea.
“Do you sell anything besides alcohol?”
“Of course. What are you looking for? Drugs? I’ve got some top-notch stuff. Or maybe… this?”
The madam winked as she loosened the front of her dress, revealing a glimpse of pale skin.
I pretended not to notice.
I acknowledged that the madam was attractive, but I wasn’t the type to be aroused by a woman with metallic horns sticking out of her temples.
“I’m looking for someone. Do you sell information?”
“I sell information, and I sell unforgettable nights.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Cheh. No fun. Well, fine. Who are you looking for?”
“A drunkard… I mean, Sigmund Sigurdsson.”
“Hmm? A Nord, I take it? Judging by the lack of a surname.”
“Exactly. Most likely a follower of Thor. He’s a Level 5 Warrior-class superhuman.”
“Oh-ho.”
In my original world, the Nordic region had splintered into various nations, but in this world, it retained much of its old identity.
The reason was none other than Thor, a god still alive and well.
The Thor Cult was one of the Seven Major Religions, holding considerable influence, particularly in Europe and North America.
The madam let out a seductive chuckle.
“I know who that is.”
“Can you introduce me to him? I’ll pay a referral fee.”
“What’s this talk of referral fees? He’s my friend.”
“Friend?”
“Yes, we’re connected through Hjordis. Do you know her?”
They knew each other?
Ah, that explained why Sigmund was a regular here in the game.
“First I’ve heard of her.”
“She’s Sigmund’s wife. The two were so lovey-dovey… sigh.”
The madam let out a long, heavy sigh.
“You’ve come at an unfortunate time. Hjordis has been very ill lately.”
“She’s ill?”
“Yes. Sigmund might refuse to see you because of it.”
As soon as she said it, I felt a deep sense of foreboding.
This was that moment—the turning point in Sigmund’s life when he fell from a superhuman into a hopeless drunkard.
Whether by coincidence or design, I had landed at a pivotal moment in the fate of many characters.
Almost as if someone had deliberately dropped me into this exact point in time.
‘Could that really be the case…?’
Setting the thought aside, I looked seriously at the madam.
“What about a priest? Surely they’ve brought her to the temple by now.”
“Of course they have. Fellow priests have been in and out of Sigmund’s house, trying everything they can to heal her. All of them failed.”
“What’s the illness?”
“It’s not an illness. If it were, they would have cured it ages ago.”
There were no illnesses that high-level priests couldn’t heal.
Except one: old age.
Even ailments like dementia, strokes, and terminal cancer were treatable in this world.
I remained silent for a moment, thinking.
To my knowledge, Hjordis was a superhuman herself and a member of the same Guardian faction as Sigmund.
If that were true, there was only one plausible explanation.
She must’ve encountered demons in the Grand Labyrinth.
‘Wait a second… could it be?’
When demons came to mind, there was one specific debuff I associated with them.
“Is it a Stigma?”
“…Yes, it is. You’re familiar with it?”
A Stigma.
A debilitating curse caused by the remnants of divine power inflicting wounds upon the soul.
Along with Divine Fever, it was one of the worst debuffs in Arcane Seoul.
If your character got afflicted with it, it was often better to just delete the character entirely and start over.
“Most Stigmas can be treated, can’t they? Drinking Nectar alone should be enough to recover. Oh… is it a Demon Lord-level Stigma? That would make things more complicated.”
The madam shook her head.
“It’s a Demon God-level Stigma.”
“A Demon God-level…”
“The Archbishop of the Thor Cult and the Archbishop of the Gaia Cult both tried to heal her, but even they couldn’t. They said even the Pope himself might not be able to help.”
That made sense.
Even though the Demon Gods were referred to as dead gods, they were still extraordinarily powerful beings.
The wounds they inflicted on a soul were never trivial.
But that only applied in the context of Arcane Seoul’s main storyline.
After the Episode 5: Gates of Hell update, there had been a revolution in demonology within the game.
Among the new discoveries was a way to overcome even a Demon God-level Stigma.
‘As long as it’s not from a High or Supreme Demon God.’
Sigmund was Level 5, so Hjordis must also be Level 5.
While that made them high-level superhumans in the outside world, they were still the lowest level within the Guardian Alliance.
There was no way they could have ventured into the deeper parts of the Grand Labyrinth.
In other words, the likelihood of encountering a High or Supreme Demon God was extremely slim.
“Do you know which Demon God inflicted the Stigma? I have some knowledge of demonology. If I know the name, there might be a way to help.”
“Even the demonology professors at Aachen University gave up. And you’re telling me you’re an expert on demons? You don’t look like a mage or a priest.”
“It doesn’t hurt to try. If it’s a demon I don’t know, I won’t even bother seeking out Sigmund. Just tell me the name.”
“Phew, fine. I guess it won’t hurt.”
The madam hesitated for a long moment before finally speaking.
“It’s Kymaris, the Black Abyss.”
Kymaris!
Among the Demon Gods, Kymaris was categorized as a Lesser Demon God.
Weak, relatively speaking—still an 8th-level being, and a catastrophe if it ever emerged from the Grand Labyrinth, but weaker compared to other Demon Gods.
“That’s a relief.”
I spoke sincerely.
“I know how to overcome a Stigma from Kymaris.”
“What… what did you just say? You can cure the Stigma?”
“Not cure—overcome. After overcoming it, she’ll need to rest for a long time and perform rituals. But once a high-level priest intervenes, full recovery should be possible.”
“Are you serious? You’re not lying, are you?”
“Why would I lie about something like this? Lying about a person’s life would just get me stabbed, wouldn’t it?”
The madam narrowed her eyes.
I could see a strange light swirling in her pupils.
She was likely using some sort of detection trait.
Was I really that untrustworthy?
After a long pause, the madam relaxed her gaze.
“You’re telling the truth… A way to overcome a Stigma? It’s hard to believe.”
“I don’t know everything. I only know a few, including Kymaris. It’s pure luck that it turned out to be a Stigma from Kymaris.”
“Thor has blessed us… Thank you, Lord Thor.”
So she was a follower of Thor?
The madam muttered a quick prayer on the spot, then suddenly stood up and grabbed my hand.
“There’s no time! Let’s go right now!”
“Shouldn’t you at least let someone know before you leave?”
“It’s fine! Once Sigmund understands the situation, he’ll welcome you with open arms! Let’s hurry!”
She really seemed to be in a rush.
The madam didn’t even bother to lock up her bar before sprinting toward the parking lot.
Sigmund’s house wasn’t far from the bar.
A distance that would take about 15 minutes at a decent jog was covered in just five minutes, thanks to the madam practically flying down the road with starlight trailing from her eyes.
It felt like one of those over-the-top tales you’d hear about taxi drivers in Busan.
“Sigmund! Sigmund! Come out here, now!”
Beep beep beep-beep!
The madam quickly deactivated the door lock.
They were clearly close—she even knew the password, and her fingerprint and magic pattern were registered in the system.
As the climate-altering magic circle in the front yard activated, the starflower trees planted there shimmered briefly. Tiny fairies hiding among the branches scattered with startled cries as a man emerged from the house.
“Borghild? What’s going on?”
“Listen! This man says he knows how to cure Hjordis!”
“What? Did you bring another con artist here? Forget it! Tell him to get lost!”
“This time, it’s real! I can feel it! He even passed my Truth-Seer Eyes!”
“That thing? Even self-hypnosis can fool it…”
“I said this time it’s real!”
The man scanned me from head to toe before letting out a long sigh.
“A superhuman, huh? What should I call you?”
“Warrior Kim. Just call me Kim.”
“Alright, Mr. Kim. Ever since my wife was struck by the Stigma, she and I have endured endless days of suffering. I’ve tried everything to heal her. I gave her Nectar, and I even took her all the way to Asgard to receive the Pope’s blessing.”
“You met the Pope in person?”
“Yes. But even His Holiness could not cure the Stigma. He told me that although the Demon God who inflicted it may be fallen, its power is on par with Thor’s, making the Stigma impossible to treat. He said things would be different if I could meet Thor in person, but as you know, one must be at least Level 7 to stand before a god. And then… His Holiness said something else.”
The man’s face twisted in anguish.
It was the face of someone barely holding back tears of blood.
“That there is no way. That I should cherish the good memories we still have.”
“…I see.”
“I know you mean well by coming here. I understand your intentions. But, even so…”
His voice was heavy, weighted like lead.
“Please stop tormenting us and leave.”
“Sigmund…”
The madam’s face crumpled, on the verge of tears.
Sigmund turned his back on us. His shoulders slumped, defeated.
It was the back of a man broken by the world, resigned to despair.
I’d seen that back before—on myself.
But there was one critical difference between his situation and mine.
I was here in his world.
And I knew the perfect solution.
–TL Notes–
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