Depths of the Otherworldly Labyrinth

Chapter 17.2 Diablo Sith

[TL Note: Dia uses Ore and Watashi interchangeably in this chapter. First person pronouns with an asterisk * indicates that Dia is using Watashi, female form of I.]

For a moment… Just for a moment, my eyes met with Christ’s.

Then, in the next instant, my body was sliced, and my right arm flew through the air.

Burning pain lit up in my wounds, and bright, fresh blood spilled out. A large amount of blood was lost, and my life functions were beginning to see their end. I could feel that my Life Extension and Divine Blessing skills were fully engaged.

However, my wound was too fatal for them to have any effect—

Then, I felt two emotions simultaneously: fear of seeing my end and joy for finally being liberated. I was afraid to die. But at the same time, I was afraid of this life with no future.

As my body fell to the ground, my vision blurred and flickered. What they saw was a vision of some place, somewhere else.

And then, I remembered.

Ah.

This is my life flashing before me.

***

…

This is the story of the past—the story of an explorer who now calls herself Dia.

I had no name. When I was first born into this world, my mother feared me like I was a demon, and she had never given me a name.

I was born with an enormous amount of magic power. And I don’t mean something like a little bit gifted. I was a baby with enough magic power to make an adult human feel sick at just the sight of me.

On top of it, my body was different from other human beings: I had a pair of small wings on my back. I was no ordinary human. I was clearly of a different species.

It was no wonder my parents were terrified to have a child born between two pure humans like them. Thus I was abandoned, left in the care of the village church.

Luckily, I was treated well after that. Father called me an ‘Apostle’ and worshipped me.

An Apostle was an agent of God, in the eyes of the Levan religion, who would become the Bishop of this continent. Father kept praising me and raised me with great care.

By the time I was five years old, the whole village had branded me as a miracle worker. And following the legend of the village, I was then called by the name ‘Sith.’

In the legends, Sith the Apostle was said to have been a messenger of God who descended from the heavens and brought miracles to the people who were suffering from poverty. At the end of the tale, Sith married a certain Hero, and their descendants were the people of the village—or so it was believed. The villagers kept calling me Sith, hoping for said miracle to happen.

By that time, my parents no longer looked at me with frightened eyes. However, they didn’t treat me as their own child either; they worshipped me like I was a god with the rest of the villagers.

—And I only did my duties as an Apostle, not knowing left from right.

I was taught Holy Magic by Father and used it to heal injured villagers, I shaved off my own life to create a barrier to keep monsters away from the village, I spent every waking moment mastering magic—all for the sake of children suffering from illnesses. My power truly was a miracle.

Perhaps, deep down, I believed that, by putting in the effort, my parents would acknowledge me as their child.

However, all that effort only served to further my deification. The villagers bowed to me; they were afraid to even look directly at me. My power had reached such a bizarre stage. It didn’t take long for my own parents to start bowing to me too.

And then, the story of a newly reborn ‘Apostle Sith’ became famous in many other countries.

At the age of ten, I finally began to possess my own ego. I realized my mastery over magic and that I was only being ordered around, praised and revered, and worshipped, and that I truly was all alone. But it was already too late then. I was deprived of my parents, robbed of my way of life, and bereft of my peers.

And next, it was the country that wished to be in possession of the ‘Apostle Sith.’

It happened in a blink of an eye. The village I was born in was too small in comparison to the country. I was given up to the state on the pretext of a small crop failure.

Thinking back, that was when it all started. When the powerful want something, they get it, no matter what. That was the first time I became acutely aware of such unreasonableness.

From then on, I was moved from place to place. I was to perform miracles in a lord’s mansion. I became a freak show for the benefit of a powerful merchant household. I had to satisfy the curiosity of the aristocrats. Ultimately, I was even made to pray in the presence of a certain king.

Miracles that should have been performed for the less fortunate were then only used by those in power who lined their pockets. I almost lost sight of what it meant to be an Apostle that Father had taught me to be back home.

I lost track of what I lived for and of what I wanted. Thus, I asked the government to let me visit my hometown so that I could return to my roots.

—It was this year.

What greeted me was a simple but warm village. Some villagers were poor, but they were all living strongly. Obviously, I went to see the house I was born in.

There were my parents, living, smiling with an expression I had never seen before. And there was a child, walking hand in hand with them.

That child was my little brother. I had no idea I had a little brother. His age didn’t seem too far apart from mine. And yet, I had not been aware of him at all.

My brother played around as any normal child would. He loved to play with toy swords, amongst other things, and he kept saying he would become a knight in the future.

My mother smiled, saying, “how reliable you are.”

My father smiled too, saying, “I will teach you the sword.”

They smiled.

“I am so happy to have a son like you,” they said. “I’ve always wanted to teach my son the sword,” they said. “You’re a good boy,” they said. “You’re a strong boy; you’ll be a fine swordsman like me,” they said. “Of course, he is our most prized son, after all,” they said. “Our treasured child,” they said. “Our child,” they—

“—What about me*?”

My heart was filled unrest. I mumbled.

“Hey, what about me*? I* did my best, you know? I* love bedtime stories too, I* want to be a strong knight too, you know… But everyone keeps saying I* should learn magic, everyone keeps telling me* that an Apostle must work miracles with holy magic, so I* did my best learning magic. Dad, mom, you said that too. That’s why I*… I*—”

There were lots of books in the village: books of heroic tales and fairy tales were left behind to pass on many, many legends.

Both in my house and in the church, books and more books.

Books were my only entertainment as I fulfilled my duties as an Apostle. Or perhaps, they were the only source of entertainment in the whole village. That was why my little brother read those books as well, and I would say that was also why he yearned to be a swordsman as much as I did.

“I*… I’m* also—”

The next thing I knew, I made myself known to my parents. I had been reminded that I was only to watch from afar, but my body was moving before I could think.

“S-Sith-sama—?!”

“What are you doing here?!”

As soon as my parents saw me, they kowtowed. It was the moment the unrest turned into sadness.

“Mom, who’s that pretty girl?”

My brother didn’t know me. Perhaps my parents had tried their darndest to hide my existence from him. They must have raised him so gently, telling him that he was their only child.

“Y-you see… I’m* your—”

I tried to spin my words, but.

“This person is Sith-sama. She is an Apostle sent from heaven.”

My mother covered me with those words.

* * *

“—!!”

My heart was so broken. I wished I was dead. I reached the end of my* life as a girl, hoping to return everything to ashes.

After that, I defected from the country. I had known that there really was no reason for me to serve that country from the beginning. I didn’t think about what would happen to that small village because of my defection; I didn’t want to think about it.

I knew what I wanted.

I wanted to be like my brother. I wanted to be born a man like him, growing up reading heroic tales, yearning to be a swordsman, and chasing my dreams in the love of my mother and father. Eventually, I would become a renowned knight and return to my parents as a brave hero of the sword.

That was what I wanted.

I knew what I needed to do for that to happen.

In the end, only those with power can get everything. Money and power would give you anything you ever wanted. I understood that too early in my life.

And at the same time, it was only a matter of time before the country tried to get me back.

The country knew how useful I was. I had been their obedient tool all that time, so I managed to slip out successfully because of their negligence. However, with a country’s worth of wealth and power, it wouldn’t be long before I would be caught.

I decided that I must amass money and power by then. Enough to fight back.

—I went on a journey.

I went to the place where the story shone the brightest among all the legends I had read.

A giant Labyrinth that had materialized on the continent… The heroes who challenged it… Encounters and partings with comrades… Adversaries that loomed around every corner… The gold and silver treasures that awaited ahead… The glory that was awarded…

With only my biased knowledge as my lead, I chose to go to the treasure chest called the Labyrinth.

I set out on my adventure, not as Sith the Apostle, but as a boy with no name—a nameless boy who yearned to be a swordsman. I couldn’t use the Holy Magic, as it had taken away what was precious to me. I was nothing but a young boy, exemplary of most fairy tales.

I had a faint dream that, perhaps, I might be allowed to start my life all over.

I made a straight line to the labyrinth. I ran into bandits along the way. I was deceived by my guide. I was almost turned into a commodity by a merchant who offered me his hand. I was almost eaten by a monster. I ran out of money and had nothing to eat.

And then, I reached one of the Labyrinth’s Allied Nations: Varte.

It was an arduous journey. Just getting there was enough to break my heart with how ruthless the world could be.

“Maybe, not… I was already…”

I thought back. Perhaps my heart had already been broken ever since the start. My mind must have become necrotic, rotten, and crazy after my* life ended.

If it was money and power that I wanted, I could have used ‘Holy Magic’ as a catalyst. If I wanted to protect my dream, then there was no necessity to stick my head into the Labyrinth. My mind had lost its balance. In my foolishness, I wanted to have it all.

I realized that, in the end, I was still a child. I wanted this; I wanted that, I wanted it all. I was greedy, self-centered, selfish, and above all else, shallow.

I was stuck in an evil loop, and I couldn’t move my body. I sat down and couldn’t stand up.

I crouched. I lost track of what was going on. Anxiety loosened my tear glands. However, I couldn’t let them fall down my cheeks. I shouldn’t, and yet, I was on the verge of—

It was then.

I met him—that dark-haired, dark-eyed young man with burn scars visible on his neck.

“Hey, are you awake?”

“—!”

I looked up as fast as I could.

Someone was watching me. I couldn’t possibly show him my tears; I’m not a girl. With how silly the entire situation is, I was feeling a little bit better about myself.

White crystals fell, flickering, filling up my vision, and I resumed my fight as a boy.

Yeah. It was that cold night with that magical snowfall.

***

—The flashes ended as I looked at Christ’ face.

I was back to reality. My right arm was sliced off—and finally, Tida’s returning slash went to cut off my neck.

“DIIAAAAAAAA——!!!”

However, Christ, all battered and wounded he was, parried that blade to protect me.

His strike was sharp—like the hero I saw in my dreams. Sword and sword clashed so fast that I couldn’t follow them with my eyes. And despite knowing it was out of place, I found their battle to be beautiful—and enviable.

I crawled to get out of Christ’s way, trying to keep my distance, painfully realizing that I had one less arm to lift my body. Right at that moment, I found my severed right arm, still clutching that sword.

Aah, so this is how my life as a boy ends…

Hahaha…

My* life as a girl ended like that, and now my life as a boy ends like this, huh…

I stared dazedly at the pool of crimson created by my blood.

I would be dead in a few more minutes. If I didn’t do anything, that would be my end.

And that was fine. I am fine with it.

But I cannot forgive myself if Christ dies because of me.

I was the one who forced Christ, a mere waiter peacefully working in a tavern, to go out of his comfort zone. No matter what the cost, I had to prevent him from dying.

So I decided to save him with my life.

But the life of someone like me wouldn’t be enough to save Christ. I couldn’t even make an opening in Tida’s defense.

—I have to choose.

I treasured my dream more than I treasured my life. That’s what I had resolved.

But what about Christ?

He was my first companion. He was the first person ever to acknowledge the boy named Dia. He was the one who gave me so much, even though we had only known each other for a few days.

Aah. Then it’s simple—I treasure my dream more than my life, but I treasure Christ even more than that.

Hence, I began to construct the ‘Holy Magic’ that I swore I wouldn’t use even if I died. The light of the magic that I hated with a personal vengeance was generated from within my body.

This nostalgic magic of my* female life that I should have long discarded. I repeated its process tens of thousands of times—with the sensation of my mind being gobbled up by it.

“—Holy Magic, «Zion».”

The Labyrinth was filled with the light of condensed magic. The ‘Price’ was so heavy that my vision almost went black. Not yet. I mustn’t lose consciousness just yet.

It wouldn’t end before we defeated that monster Tida or whatever it was. Although he claimed to specialize in mental magic, I believed that his true strength lay in his amorphous body. I needed to harden it more like how Christ did with his ‘Freezing Magic’.

And I had plenty of magic like that. I had a lot of ‘Holy Magic’ in my arsenal that I had cultivated since childhood that could be used in all kinds of situations.

To be honest, I didn’t have enough time to calmly pick and choose magic. Blood was not circulating in my brain. If so, I just had to choose by my feelings.

My vision blacked out. The truth warped.

Nevertheless, my eyes were on the enemy. Even if I died, I would defeat him: that’s all I could think about.

I have to protect Christ.

I HAVE TO PROTECT CRIST.

And for that purpose alone, I constructed magic way past the limits of my body.

My dreams were crushed. However, what I was given instead was the power to transcend my limitations.

That’s why I* have to protect him. From the bottom of my heart. With my life. Definitely, I will—

【The Skill 『Overcapacity』 Has Gone Berserk】

A specific emotion has been intensified in exchange for some of your emotions.

End of Book 1 “the Start of the Challenge”

Start of Book 2 “the End of the Holy Birthday”

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