Seven days had passed since the siege of the Labyrinth of Eterna began.
For seven days, the labyrinth swallowed every soldier who stepped inside.
And for seven days—it said nothing.
No cries.
No echoes.
No survivors.
Only silence.
Calgurio, commander of the Imperial Armored Corps, spent those seven days hiding his fear behind anger.
"Still no reports?!"
His shout echoed through the command center.
No one answered.
The silence gnawed at him. Not just at him—but at every officer present. They all understood now: something was deeply wrong.
At the beginning, there had been contact.
On the first day, soldiers sent inside the labyrinth had communicated back. They had described the entry process clearly:
Identity verification upon entry
Presentation of the rules
Conditions for clearing the labyrinth
Defeat the Dungeon's Elite Ten.
Obtain the ten keys.
Challenge the King of the Labyrinth.
Defeat him—and escape.
At first, it sounded manageable.
A lie born of arrogance.
As reports accumulated, one truth became undeniable:
The labyrinth had far more than fifty floors.
Every one thousand soldiers were redirected to a different layer. This allowed limited communication early on—but only after more than fifty thousand troops had already vanished inside.
From that alone, the staff inferred at least fifty-four floors.
Earlier intelligence that claimed the labyrinth ended at sixty floors was exposed as worthless the moment real combat reports arrived. The strength of the monsters was far beyond those claims.
Then came the second-day report.
A floor ruled by a Wight King.
Not a rumor.
A confirmed enemy.
And worse—
That Wight King was said to be one of the Elite Ten.
After that, no one laughed.
"Even with our elites… it isn't enough."
The words were quiet—but heavy.
Calgurio felt his blood run cold.
Failure did not simply mean retreat.
Failure meant 530,000 dead soldiers.
Half a million lives entrusted to him by Emperor Rudra—gone.
He clenched his fists.
"It's only been seven days," he said, forcing steadiness into his voice. "The operation is still ongoing inside. We wait."
But even as he spoke, he knew it was a lie.
Every general in the room felt it.
The problem was the Elite Ten.
So far, the Imperial Army had secured four keys—taken from the Dragon Kings. Even though those monsters resurrected, the keys remained in Imperial hands.
But the remaining six?
Impossible.
The Immortal King, ruler of death
His right hand, the Death Paladin
The Insect Queen
The Beast Queen
The Elemental Colossus, the so-called ghost of Gadra
And one final entity whose identity remained unknown
Unless these six were defeated, clearing the
labyrinth was impossible.
And with the forces already inside?
It could not be done.
Calgurio knew it.
The general staff agreed unanimously.
Deploying the entire remaining army would only weaken their defenses and exhaust their forces.
There was only one remaining option.
An elite strike force.
Calgurio selected one hundred individuals—men and women drawn from every unit. Only the strongest. Only the best.
Each was at least A-rank.
One in ten thousand.
At their head sat Major General Minits—calm, refined, immaculate even in wartime. Calgurio trusted him above all others and named him commander of the operation.
Beside him lounged Colonel Kansas, cigarette in hand, eyes sharp with predatory confidence. A legendary champion of the Empire, infamous for annihilating entire magic-beast territories.
No one reprimanded his arrogance.
He had earned it.
Then there were the two Otherworlders.
Lucius, bearer of the Unique Skill Fusionist, capable of unleashing devastating composite attacks
Raymond, wielder of Martial Artist, a living weapon whose body and skill had become one
The remaining ninety-six were no less fearsome.
This single unit could erase the knight orders of lesser nations.
Calgurio stood before them.
"You know the situation," he said.
Silent nods answered him.
"Our comrades are trapped inside the labyrinth. To leave, the conditions must be fulfilled. That includes defeating the King."
He paused.
This labyrinth could not be conquered by numbers—but he could not say that.
"Defeat the Elite Ten. Gather the keys. Then challenge the ruler of Eterna."
He straightened.
"That ruler is Atem."
The name alone carried weight.
The King of Games.
The Sovereign of Eterna.
A being whose authority ruled not through innocence or mercy—but through absolute judgment.
"Atem is the enemy you must defeat."
Minits rose gracefully.
"Calgurio-sama. The King of Eterna is no threat to the Empire. We will prove it."
Confident voices followed.
They believed.
They could still believe—because they did not know.
They did not know that the battle was already over.
They did not know that no one remained alive inside the labyrinth.
They did not know that Atem never needed to descend, never needed to draw a blade, never needed to give an order.
The Labyrinth of Eterna itself was his judgment.
A trial designed by a king who ruled through inevitability.
The correct choice would have been retreat.
But that choice had vanished days ago.
Calgurio's decision came too late.
The one hundred champions advanced.
Their spirits were high.
Their resolve unbroken.
Their confidence absolute.
The Great Gate of the labyrinth stood open before them.
Waiting.
They stepped inside—unaware that they were not entering a battlefield…
…but a completed verdict.
The images on the great screen faded into a brief lull, and the control room settled into a tense silence. What we had just witnessed was… thorough.
So my instincts had been right.
The Imperial Army had ignored the warning carved into the gate and sent far more soldiers into the Labyrinth of Eterna than we had anticipated.
"That much greed," I said calmly, my voice low but firm, "was always going to be their undoing."
Benimaru nodded beside me, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
"This exceeds our estimates. No hesitation, no restraint. They marched in as if the labyrinth itself were beneath them."
A faint curve touched my lips.
Arrogance was always predictable.
"No individual has shown enough strength to demand your attention," Benimaru continued. "That's likely because the Dungeon's Elite Ten crushed them before they could even adapt. At this rate, the operation is easier than expected."
There was no caution in his gaze. His focus had already shifted—to the ground, beyond the labyrinth.
"…There's movement," he added.
I followed his line of sight.
"Yes. They've changed tactics," I said. "No longer flooding the field with numbers. They've become selective."
Benimaru exhaled softly.
"They should have done that from the beginning. If they had, the labyrinth forces would've faced real pressure."
"True," I replied. "But fortune favors us."
He glanced at me.
"When things go this smoothly, it makes me uneasy."
His expression said otherwise. To him, the outcome was already decided.
That wasn't the issue.
Benimaru didn't fear defeat—he feared being left out of the climax.
I shook the thought away.
No.
I was not like him.
I did not crave battle.
I welcomed this result.
In this world, quality always outweighs quantity.
These selected Imperial units—the ones entering now—were the true core of the enemy's strength. If left unchecked, they might have dismantled the Elite Ten one by one.
That alone meant this was no time for complacency.
But our primary objective had already been achieved.
The Imperial Army had been reduced from an overwhelming invasion force to mere hundreds of thousands—a number even the Western Nations could now withstand.
That was decisive.
This was how real conflict was won.
Crush the enemy early.
Deny them the illusion of recovery.
Force them to commit everything—until retreat becomes impossible.
The Empire had done exactly that.
Each successive deployment was meant to "fix" the previous loss… and instead dragged them deeper into ruin.
From the very beginning, the game had been over.
Still—
We had not yet eliminated every dangerous piece on the board.
Some powerful individuals remained. None posed a threat to me—not now—but that didn't mean they were insignificant.
If I were to name one true anomaly so far, it would be Testarossa, who had personally erased legendary-grade opponents from the field.
There was also Davis, ranked eleventh—someone who might have defeated the man I once was, long before Eterna, before my awakening.
But speculation was pointless.
What mattered now… was the enemy commander.
If this situation were clear to him, retreat would be the logical choice.
Yet he hadn't withdrawn.
Why?
«Analysis complete.»
Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom, spoke within my mind—clear, absolute.
«The enemy commander is likely unaware of the full extent of the losses. Communication disruption has isolated his perception. He is clinging to an impossible victory scenario.»
Cold.
Accurate.
"You're ruthless as always," I murmured.
«Correction. This is optimal strategy. Partial annihilation breeds resentment. Total defeat enforces deterrence. Mercy toward invaders invites future war.»
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Harsh—but correct.
Leave a force intact, and ambition survives.
Crush them completely, and the desire to rise again dies with them.
It wasn't justice.
It was order.
Still… I was not Solarys.
If the enemy fled, I would let them go.
If they returned, I would end them.
That contradiction was mine alone.
As those thoughts settled, a familiar presence brushed my consciousness.
‹Atem, got a moment?›
Ramiris.
‹Speak.›
‹So, another hundred or so just entered. Strong ones this time.›
‹I see them. They're different.›
‹Right. And that's why the Elite Ten sent requests.›
I listened.
First request — Gadra.
Two of the intruders were Otherworlders: Lucius and Raymond. Gadra recognized them. He wished to speak with them—to persuade them to abandon the Empire and defect.
Second request — Kumara.
This one carried weight.
Among the intruders was a man responsible for the destruction of Youma Township—Kumara's homeland. The one who sold her into slavery to Clayman centuries ago.
A trafficker.
A butcher.
And now… an Imperial officer.
My expression hardened.
I turned to Benimaru.
"Your judgment?"
He didn't hesitate.
"Mass annihilation is efficient—but ugly. Still, granting these requests costs us nothing. If Gadra succeeds, we gain assets. If he fails, the enemy loses nothing they weren't already about to lose."
"And Kumara?"
Benimaru's eyes narrowed.
"No one should be denied vengeance when the cause walks willingly into their hands."
That settled it.
‹Ramiris. Approved.›
‹Knew it! You're decisive when it counts.›
‹Assign Lucius and Raymond to Gadra's sector.
As for Kumara…›
‹That bearded bastard, right? Ugly face, worse soul.›
‹Send him to her. Tell her this—fight without restraint.›
‹Roger!›
The line closed.
Benimaru gestured to the screen.
"That man there. He's the commander."
I nodded.
"Isolate him. Send him alone to Apito's domain."
Benimaru blinked once—then smiled thinly.
Cruel.
Effective.
Ramiris, overhearing, laughed.
‹You really are merciless, Atem. Strip him of command, and the rest crumble on their own.›
I ignored the remark.
Leadership was a linchpin.
Remove it—and collapse followed naturally.
‹Have Adalmann receive the remaining hundred.›
‹No problem! The Dragon Kings struggled, but the others are eager. And don't forget—›
‹Veldora is the King of the Labyrinth.›
That alone ensured the ending.
The condition to clear the labyrinth was simple:
Collect the ten keys.
Challenge the King.
Win.
No one would defeat Veldora.
Which meant—
No one would leave.
‹Proceed. And stay vigilant. Among them… there may be one worth noting.›
‹Don't worry. Everyone's fired up knowing you're watching.›
The connection faded.
Silence returned to the chamber.
I leaned back, eyes fixed on the great screen.
The final phase had begun.
The pieces were moving exactly as expected.
This was no longer a battle.
It was the closing move of a game decided long ago.
I did not need to act.
I did not need to intervene.
I would simply watch—
As Eterna delivered its verdict.