Surviving without God

It was an unbelievably enormous mansion. The garden alone, stretching from the main gate to the grand entrance, took a full minute to cross on foot. If someone other than Kate had owned this place, they would surely have set traps somewhere across that wide expanse.

That was why Parco’s car was used. Confiscated property from low-tier criminal organizations. It was a legend Seraz had fabricated in order to legally bring it into the Upper City. Thanks to that, Gunther and the Fourth Platoon were able to pass through the main gates of Bellamor Mansion in a way the enemy could never have predicted.

Vrrr-rrrr-rrrr!

Inside the cabin the engine roared wildly.

“No threats in sight so far.”

“Don’t relax.”

Holding their breath, they stared at the approaching main building of the mansion.

Bang-boom!

The body of the car shook, sharp wind battering the window frames. Outside the glass, snow-covered trees stretched past in strange shadows. Every second dragged on unbearably long.

...Crunch!

Something met them halfway across the garden.

Frrr!

“They’re coming!”

First came the sound of wings. A furious beating, loud enough to be heard even inside the sealed car. In the next instant the view was swallowed by blackness. Against the night sky, grinning maws flashed.

“...Are those all teeth?”

“You saw them in the Labyrinth, right? Those are Harvest Beasts.”

Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!

Thousands of plump winged creatures surrounded the car in a dense ring. The constant impacts on the windshield and roof sounded like a hailstorm. No matter how powerful their jaws or how sharp their teeth were, they could not break through the armored body of the vehicle. But the real problem was something else.

“The moment we step outside.”

Fast, numerous, making unpredictable maneuvers—carnivorous insects the size of a fist. Even one of them was dangerous. If dozens swarmed you, there would be no way to fight them off. Starting a stage while already bitten by venomous creatures was suicide.

“As expected... they’re not letting us in easily.”

Gunther’s eyes calmly narrowed as he scanned the surroundings. The car was almost at its destination, right in front of the grand entrance.

“Turn!”

The target was right in front of them, but Parco did not hesitate for even a second. The wheel twisted sharply and the car veered off the road straight onto the snow-covered lawn.

Screech!

A piercing shriek rang out as the runners tore across snow piled waist-deep. In an instant whirlwinds of snow rose into the air, only to evaporate immediately under the heat pouring from the overheated engine and chassis. At the same time Gunther’s hand grabbed the emergency mana injection beneath the dashboard.

Flash!

Mana of the Flame of Eternal Torment surged through the car’s chains directly into the engine. In a single moment the entire chassis blasted out overwhelming heat in every direction.

Pshhhh!

A thick cloud of steam. The explosive mana reaction scorched a mark into the ground, and white smoke billowed above the trail.

“Tarsha.”

“Aha! Genius!”

“Yes. Get ready.”

Gunther lowered the window. Scalding, sticky steam flooded inside.

Whoosh!

Several insects broke through the curtain of vapor, trying to force their way into the cabin. But Blanc deftly knocked them aside with her fists. Then she summoned a weak gust of wind, dispersing the steam and restoring their visibility.

At the same moment, electric sparks gathered at the tips of Tarsha’s fingers.

Crackle!

“Alright, let’s go!”

A dense white cloud of steam still rose along the path the car had driven through. A natural steam zone. With their wings damp, the swarm’s speed dropped, and the insects floundered as they tried to escape the cloud.

Tarsha took a deep breath. Then a brilliant blue flash tore across the night sky.

Zzzzt!

Lightning ran through the layer of steam. The current spread in a chain reaction across the soaked bodies and wings of the clustered insects.

Ba-boom!

Like wet paper, the swarm tore apart and rained down onto the snow. A few still struggled in the air, but calling them a threat now would have been ridiculous.

[Companion “Tarsha” has reached Level 107]

[Companions have gained an enormous amount of experience. A portion has been transferred to the commander]

[Level Up! / Lv. 63]

[Strength 56 → 57]

Levain murmured in admiration.

“...Now that’s improvisation.”

Gunther didn’t make a show of it. He simply nodded to Parco. The man immediately turned the wheel again and drove the car straight toward the mansion’s main doors.

Creak!

The body stopped gracefully before the stone steps.

“Out.”

At Gunther’s command, the Fourth Platoon exited the vehicle with disciplined precision. Parco looked anxiously at the smoking chassis.

“Well... it’s a rich house. I doubt anyone will steal it, right...?”

“Parco.”

“Alright, alright.”

Everyone except Parco scanned the surroundings tensely, but there were no ambushes and no traps. Gunther noticed that the mansion door was slightly ajar. From the narrow gap came the muted sound of instruments. Dance music, where strings and metallic percussion blended together.

“...Games, huh.”

Kate Bellamor. This was the overture to the cruel ball she had prepared. Without hesitation, Gunther pushed the grand door open.

“Let’s go.”

.

.

.

[The “Hunger Gauge” is being created]

***

In front of a vanity mirror. Kate Bellamor, pausing in the middle of applying her heavy makeup, raised her crimson-gleaming eyes. The surface of the mirror wavered strangely, and soon the image of the entrance hall appeared on the glass.

Gunther and the Fourth Platoon. Slowly walking down the corridor in dim light.

“They really did come.”

Kate sighed, as though releasing a long breath of despair.

“Just five country bumpkins. On a pile of scrap metal. How adorable.”

“......”

“Just look at them. They don’t even realize what a valuable place they’ve been invited to. Isn’t that right?”

Receiving no answer, Kate turned her head slightly. Then she remembered that her conversation partner was not in any condition to reply.

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

As soon as the gag was removed, the blood that had pooled there dripped onto the floor. A bruised face, disheveled hair. Yet even in that state Kate’s nails dug cruelly into the girl’s still striking beauty.

“So what shall we do? Instead of a fairy-tale prince, courtyard rats have arrived. Watch closely. Watch how your little rats fall, bleeding their filthy blood.”

“......”

“...Hm?”

Kate sensed something strange.

“You’re laughing?”

Dimona was smiling. The shoulders that had been trembling violently until now. What escaped her was neither forced mockery nor ridicule. It was laughter—somehow broken, yet utterly sincere.

“Have you lost your mind? Huh? You’re laughing?”

The faint smile quickly turned into full laughter, and Dimona realized she could not stop herself. She didn’t even know why she was laughing.

Probably...

Because the man who had thrown himself into the jaws of death for her—a person with whom he had only exchanged help a few times—was so absurd it was almost comical. Because she herself was pitiful for feeling relief beside such a man. And despite all of that... she felt so grateful, and she hoped so much. Perhaps that was why.

“...Well, this is something.”

Kate’s eyes slowly twisted.

“Truly, these beast-eared creatures. Don’t you even pity your companions?”

“I don’t.”

“...What?”

“That man.”

Dimona moved her dried tongue.

“That man... even in the worst conditions always gets what he wants.”

Over the past few months, watching him from nearby, that was the phrase Dimona could use to describe Gunther. And the moment she said it, she realized a firm trust had taken root inside her. Dimona was certain. They would leave this place alive.

“Ha, nonsense... The only one who could ever get ‘what she wanted’ and leave this mansion was me.”

Kate snorted and raised her voice.

“Giles!”

The middle-aged man waiting outside the door quietly entered. Deep wrinkles around the eyes, a neat black suit, silent steps. His eyes had the same shape as Kate’s, yet entirely different emotions flowed within them.

Emptiness. Fear. And... suppressed anger lingering like a smoldering ember.

It was only natural. After all, he was the father of “Kate.”

“My dear grandson.”

Kate whispered this while looking through the mirror at the Fourth Platoon.

“Take this cursed girl to the ritual chamber. I need to receive guests. No matter how pathetic they are, as the head of the house I must observe proper etiquette.”

Her voice sounded gentle, as though whispering words of love, yet twisted authority seeped through it—the authority of someone who, while part of the family, had destroyed it from within.

“...Yes, Head of House.”

“Thank you, Daddy!”

Kate suddenly spoke in an innocent voice, as if she had become a different person. Giles silently lowered his head. Then he lifted Dimona, who looked at the two of them as though they were monsters. The girl groaned in pain, but soon fell silent.

Soon Giles left quietly, and Kate, left alone, slowly turned before the mirror. The hem of her dress swirled, her eyes shining like glass.

“Hmm, perfect.”

Kate walked away.

***

Guided by the music growing louder and louder, Gunther and the Fourth Platoon slowly advanced through the wide, luxurious corridor.

“Damn, everything here shines.”

Across the antique marble floor stretched a long red carpet all the way to the end of the corridor. The walls were lined with exquisite statues and ornaments, and between them hung portraits of the Bellamor family. The soldiers’ eyes were involuntarily drawn to the spectacle. Tarsha tilted her head.

“...Can descendants really look this similar? And why are there so many of them anyway? Are they that in love with their own faces?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“What do you mean forget it?!!”

“Ugh, damn it.”

By now the music had grown so loud that it drowned out their voices. The frightening part was that the orchestra itself was nowhere to be seen. Gunther discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.

“It’s about time at least one pattern showed up.”

As already mentioned, this wasn’t a guide run. Anything appearing at any moment would not be surprising. And given Kate Bellamor’s personality, she would never allow guests to enter the banquet without trials.

“...The boss character hasn’t changed, right?”

Even among players, Kate had been called the greatest villain. As Gunther remembered her, he scanned the space with tense eyes—and suddenly...

“?”

He stopped abruptly. He felt something faint but completely alien. The rest of the platoon halted as well. The entire Fourth Platoon froze in the middle of the corridor. To overpower the music, Gunther gave an order in a loud voice.

“Everyone listen! On my signal—break through the corridor at maximum speed!”

“Understood!”

“Don’t lose sight of the person next to you while running. If anything’s wrong, report immediately.”

...Who would have thought she would start with this pattern.

Gunther moved forward again slowly, staring intently at the path. Now that he understood the nature of it, everything became obvious.

The length of the corridor. The distance between the portraits. The path to the hall visible at the end.

Everything was gradually, yet relentlessly, moving farther away. As if the corridor were quietly inhaling air and swelling. A distorted perception of space.

“The power of Gluttony.”

“Devouring” was a concept that did not work only between people. Inside a mansion that had “eaten” and filled itself with space, strange things began to happen.

Yes. Like this “lengthening corridor.” Gunther exhaled through clenched teeth.

[The one hundred eighty-seventh eye of “Jean Daet” is watching you]

[Hunger Gauge is rising]

“Now!!”

At first the expansion would be slow. But that was the trap. The speed would increase without warning, in a single instant. Gunther had barely taken a few steps.

Bang-bang-bang!

With an ear-splitting crash, space cracked. The frames of the portraits along the walls stretched outward with a groan. The people depicted in them began swelling and distorting grotesquely.

The ceiling screeched upward as if pulled by an invisible hand, while the floor—like a treadmill running in reverse—slid endlessly away beneath their feet, devouring any sense of balance.

Space itself screamed, twisted, and stretched.

Gunther shouted again.

“Run!!!”

Stop for even a second and you would be trapped forever in this endlessly lengthening corridor. Inside it the Hunger Gauge would soar to the heavens, and eventually a horrific massacre would begin as maddened companions tore each other apart.

Among the random traps that appeared once Bellamor Mansion shifted into “dungeon mode,” this lengthening corridor was considered especially vicious. The ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) slightest delay in control or the lack of movement bonuses in the party meant certain death. But fortunately...

“Leave this to me!”

The experienced soldiers of the platoon reacted before Gunther even finished giving the order.

Levain was the first to move. He instantly leapt forward, twisting his wrist and swinging a thin steel wire.

Whizz!

Every time the slicing wire touched the wall, the corridor shuddered as if struck by an explosion. Arrows rained from the walls, the floor split open revealing sharp spears. Heavy iron balls hanging from the ceiling fell down one after another with grinding crashes.

“Traps triggered!”

Because Levain had activated the triggers in advance, the traps fired prematurely. The soldiers easily jumped over the wreckage.

[“Spell Thief” smirks that such devices are mere trifles compared to those found in ancient ruins]

Blanc, carrying Tarsha on her back, ran with terrifying speed. The deity “Flying Ahead of the Wind,” who granted a powerful movement-speed bonus. She was already quick, and with Tarsha on her back she reached a speed that rivaled Levain’s. A tailwind pushed at the soldiers’ backs.

[“Flying Ahead of the Wind” pushes at your back, accelerating your steps]

Parco was not lagging behind either. Having taken on a share of the fatigue and wounds of his comrades, he had undergone harsher endurance training than anyone in the platoon. Despite his enormous build, he ran with astonishing ease, keeping perfect pace.

And then... Gunther remained last.

He slowed his run and glanced briefly back into the darkening corridor. Only moments ago it had been chaos, but now an unnatural silence hung there. The corridor was still expanding, yet their speed far exceeded it. A satisfied smile appeared on Gunther’s lips.

“Got through nicely.”

The “lengthening corridor” was usually a fatal trap. But this time, thanks to Gunther’s quick decision and the platoon’s perfect coordination, no one even got scratched. Moreover, they had drained Kate’s mana, which made the result even better for them.

“Now we break through to the banquet hall.”

The banquet hall. Gunther’s gaze sharpened again. This was the zone where the mansion’s true defense began. With their current strength, clearing it cleanly was impossible. They would probably have to die several times. But he was already prepared for that. He took another step. Or rather, he was about to.

“...?”

A message window that appeared in an instant made him freeze.

[“Vision of the Heavenly Mechanism” Lv. 1 activated]

For a moment it felt as if something inside his body had shifted. Instinctively, Gunther turned around, following that sensation.

“What is this...?”

The corridor lay silent. And there was movement there. From painting to painting, sliding along the wall, moved “one face.” Faded blond hair flickered in his vision like a shadow. A chilling sensation slowed Gunther’s steps.

“...What is that?”

This “anomalous phenomenon” could not be detected with mana. It could only be read through “Vision of the Heavenly Mechanism.” In other words, it was neither an illusion nor a monster, but something connected to the very structure of this space.

Before he could grasp its nature, another message flashed before his eyes.

Ding!

[Do you wish to “read” “Self-Portrait of Moretia Bellamor”?]

(※ This choice will unlock a hidden stage)

A phrase he had never once seen throughout the entire game.

...It was an Easter egg.