Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody

This is not from the protagonist’s point of view.

It is an event that happened some time ago in the Labyrinth City of Selbira.

Note: Typographical errors corrected on 2014/8/16.

Note: Some Elf names were changed on 2015/4/4.

“Master! Hoya and the others have gone to the goblin nest!”

The one who rudely interrupted the elegant afternoon tea was Giril, the house brownie tasked with managing the Ivy Manor.

Usually calm and composed, Giril’s small eyes were now nearly popping out in a panic.

I couldn’t remain calm either. I donned my usual magic robe made of Yuriha Fiber and took my trusty staff in hand as I prepared to leave. Outside, my attendant Dohal—an exceptionally sturdy dwarf—was already ready. Together we set off for the labyrinth on the outskirts of Selbira.

Though a bit late, I am known as the practitioner of arcane magic in the Forest of Boruenan who surpassed the so-called limit of level 50 after 500 years of training—the first in my clan to do so. My name is Torazayuuya Boruenan. Recently, I’m often called the Elf Sage instead of by name.

“Master, looks like the boys took some rookies with them.”

“I see.”

“Seems they wanted to show off and make an impression on the rookies.”

“Let’s hurry.”

“Yes, sir!”

The “boys” Dohal refers to are about five young Elves, including Hoya—Horusetaya—and others, who came from our homeland, the Forest of Boruenan, following me. I started training them about five years ago, and when they first arrived, they were around levels 6 or 7. Now they have rapidly grown to nearly level 20, promising young talents. Since Elves often finish their lives without exceeding level 10 due to slow growth, this pace is remarkable. Though a bit thoughtless, it’s understandable under 300 years of age. Time will bring wisdom.

They will continue to grow, become thoughtful and strong, eventually surpass me and take influential positions in the world. That is my hope. My dream is for Elves to regain leadership roles in the world again.

Perhaps news of their rapid growth in this Labyrinth City reached home because at the end of last month, 15 young people came seeking me. They are even younger compared to Hoya and the others. My youngest grand-nephew, Yusaratoya, is only 150 years old.

The plan was to split the newcomers into groups of five to get accustomed to the labyrinth under the guidance of either me or Dohal. However, Hoya and the others apparently took them to the labyrinth prematurely to show off. One reason might be the presence of Cirirutoa, a strikingly beautiful skilled singer and lute player among them. Attracting the attention of a desired woman is common across generations and races.

Dohal was showing the metal plates of their explorer permits to the gatekeeper of the labyrinth’s dedicated gate on Selbira’s western edge. The gatekeeper has been a familiar face since his rookie days and has never once skipped checking the plates in these 20 years. This admirable honesty, however, I found somewhat annoying as I worried about the young ones’ safety. I still need more training.

After confirmation, we descended the stairs and proceeded along a semi-underground corridor. This passage, 10 meters wide and 5 meters high, winds nearly 2 kilometers to the labyrinth. The winding is meant to slow monster advances if they overflow.

One meter from the ceiling are narrow openings for light and ventilation, with soldiers patrolling outside. Even if monsters spill out of the labyrinth, they are shot dead before breaking through this 2-kilometer passage.

Since the creation of this “death corridor,” there have been no records of labyrinth monsters reaching Selbira.

Dohal and I restrained our urge to run and walked steadily. Any sudden noise here might be mistaken for monsters and cause us to be shot. Dohal is especially vulnerable due to his short stature.

Dohal opened the heavy labyrinth gate upon arrival. I’m too weak to open it myself.

◇

“The boys said they’re cleaning out a goblin nest.”