This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

“Saint! Please take me with you! I’m very skilled with weapons! Rifles, shotguns, sniper rifles—I can handle anything! I’ll follow you all the way to the 7th floor of the Labyrinth. If you just give me something to do, anything, I’ll—!”

A man nearby—looked like a Hunter—approached the old man and said something in the northern tongue.

The old man flared up at those words and shot back, also in northern. His grandson, unable to just stand by, seemed to scold the old man too—but the old man’s will was unshakable.

“For 300 years, no one believed in our family’s words! And now—now, it’s finally proven that our ancestors were right! Please let me fulfill our final mission! I’m begging you!!”

The old man kicked and flailed as he pleaded, but was eventually dragged away by his grandson and a few other Hunters, disappearing from sight.

I stood frozen for a moment, staring at where he had vanished, then turned to Lu—my interpreter.

The dwarf woman, small and sharp-eared, was looking toward where the old man had been taken with a strange expression. She seemed to sense my gaze and began to explain.

“He’s from the family that’s been claiming for 300 years that the God of Courage is still trapped on the 7th floor of the Labyrinth. And that they’re descendants of the last hero, Karim.”

“Three hundred years?”

“Yes. The claim was so outlandish no one believed them. But they’ve been making it consistently for generations. They come from a great Hunter family—so great that those two are the only ones left now. That’s the real tragedy.”

As Lu said that—

The old man, who had been dragged off, suddenly broke free from those restraining him and came walking right back toward me.

The Golden Company soldiers guarding me blocked him, but he began shouting again.

“Saint! Please let ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) me join the expedition! I’ve been down to the 7th floor of the Labyrinth before! I swear I won’t be a burden! Please, I’m begging you!!”

His voice was disruptive enough to be considered a nuisance.

And yet, strangely, none of the gathered patients or their families complained.

In fact, there was a quiet sense of shared guilt that settled over the hall.

“Saint, please! I have to go to the 7th floor! I must uphold my ancestor’s final will! Please include me in the expedition! Please! Saint, your expedition is my last chance!”

The old man kept desperately pleading beside me the entire time I continued treating patients.

Some Hunters approached and tried saying something to him in the northern tongue again, but the old man was resolute.

No one could persuade him.

His grandson—John, I recalled—eventually shouted in anger and stormed off, and the Hunters looked on with pained and regretful expressions before giving up on trying to stop him.

In the end, the old man stood at my side throughout the remainder of the treatment session.

Had the Golden Company not held him back, I was sure he would’ve clung to my feet.

Finally, after the last of the treatments were finished and I had a brief moment of rest late that evening, I had no choice but to call the old man over.

It had been a long time since I’d seen someone cling to something this desperately.

“Elder, may I ask your name?”

“Ban! My name is Ban! That one you saw earlier was my grandson, John. Saint, please—I beg you. Let me come with you. I swear I won’t cause any trouble.”

The old man stared at me with desperately pleading eyes that sparkled with unusual energy for someone of his age.

“You’re not young anymore... Why would you insist on going somewhere so dangerous?”

“Because it is our mission. Please, Saint. Give me your permission. Without your approval, I won’t be allowed to enter the Labyrinth again. Lagot and the other guildmasters won’t grant me permission otherwise.”

“I need an explanation. Please tell me what circumstances brought you to this—”

“I will explain, Saint.”

Another old man approached, his voice calm and clear.

Wearing the crest of the Hero Order over his shoulder, the priest grasped Ban’s shoulder gently.

“John’s shut the shop down. After twenty years, you finally got your limbs back and your voice restored. You should go home now and look after the last family you’ve got. That’s what’s right.”

“But Mathieu!—”

“I’ll explain your circumstances. Just go.”

At that, Ban hesitated for a moment, then turned away and left. Mathieu watched him go, then walked over to me and bowed his head quietly.

“Chosen of Lilia. I am called Mathieu, a servant of the Hero Order. May I have a moment of your time?”

It seemed I needed to hear Ban’s story.

I followed Mathieu into a nearby building, where we sat down.

“So in the end, the day came when Ban’s family was proven right. I suppose living long enough does have its rewards, after all.”

“Is Ban really a descendant of the last hero, Karim? If so, why didn’t the Hero Order make it public? We’ve spent 300 years searching for Ponemkin.”

Priest Mathieu gave a sorrowful smile.

“We did. For 300 years, we reported it to the Hero Order. But save for a small handful, no one believed it. They said it was impossible that a divine being could be sealed in the deepest part of the Great Labyrinth, a place where not even the simplest spell could be sustained. So they chose to scour the southern continent instead.”

“In the end, after 300 years, the Hero Order finally admitted their search had been misdirected.”

“Yes. And in those 300 years, Ban’s family dedicated themselves to studying ways to reach the 7th floor of the Labyrinth. Until they finally secured proof that their claim was valid.”

No one believed them.

Not the Hero Order. Not the northern Hunters.

No one accepted their claim that they were the descendants of the hero—or that the God of Courage remained sealed on the 7th floor.

And yet Ban’s family never gave up.

If no one believed them, then they’d make them believe. That was their resolve.

They began developing ways to descend to the 7th floor.

They mapped the Labyrinth, developed firearms specifically to hunt the high-risk magical beasts that appeared below the 3rd floor,

manufactured and distributed guns among the Hunters,

created hunting strategies for numerous beasts, and drafted maps of the unexplored lower levels—

For 300 years.

Ban’s family ceaselessly pushed into the Great Labyrinth.

And at last—

They brought the flag of Hero Karim back into the light of day.

They hadn’t retrieved it themselves—but it had surfaced because of their work.

“What happened?”

“Twenty years ago, Ban took his son and daughter-in-law into the Labyrinth on an expedition to find the passage to the 7th floor. After nearly a year, Ban succeeded in finding the way down. But the price... was losing both his son and daughter-in-law. And Ban himself returned missing his arms, his legs, and his voice. For twenty years, he lived like a cocoon.”

“......”

“The expedition that recovered Karim’s banner wasn’t related to Ban’s family at all. But they were only able to reach that far because of the legacy Ban’s family built over 300 years. Saint.”

When the old man shouted to be included in the expedition—

I finally understood the look on the other Hunters’ faces, that mix of guilt and pity.

I finally understood why John had stormed off in rage.

“Saint, I’ve been at Ban’s side all my life. Even when the Order insisted the God of Courage couldn’t possibly be in the Labyrinth, I believed in him. I volunteered to stay in Labyrinth City, waiting every day for the proof that would finally come.”

“When Karim’s banner was found—that was you, wasn’t it?”

Priest Mathieu nodded.

He gently took my hand.

“He is the last heir of a family that has endured and persevered for three hundred years. If he is to die, let it be on the 7th floor of the Labyrinth—before the God of Courage. He would consider that a happiness.”

I couldn’t answer right away.

“Doesn’t Elder Ban have a grandson?”

He had family.

And even so, I couldn’t simply take him on a mission to the 7th floor of the Great Labyrinth, where no one knew what might happen.

Ban’s family had already done enough.

Wasn’t it time they got some rest? That thought hovered in the back of my mind.

“If the Saint decides as such, you don’t have to take him.”

At Priest Mathieu’s words, a headache crept in.

This was...

I didn’t know what the right thing to do was.

****

“John. You awake?”

Gun shop.

Ban’s family had run a gun shop for generations.

Below the 3rd floor of the Labyrinth, magical beasts could no longer be killed with spears, swords, or bows.

Stronger weapons were needed—so Ban’s family chose the path of firearms development.

Into a home reeking of gunpowder, oil, and iron, Ban stepped carefully, approaching his grandson’s room.

The door suddenly slammed open.

“You’re going to the 7th floor? You’re asking to join the expedition?”

John’s voice burst out in coarse northern dialect.

“Why do you have to go that far... why!!”

“John. How many times has Grandpa told you. We must raise the God of Courage back to the heavens. It’s what will bring peace to humanity. It’s how we save the world.”

“What’s the point of saving the world?! If you can’t even protect your own family, then what the hell does saving the world even mean?! You’re all I’ve got left. You’re the only family I have now. And you still want to go die?”

“Why do you have to see it like that? All the greatest Hunters in Labyrinth are joining this mission. And the Saint is going with us. I’ll come back alive. I will come back alive.”

“They saw over two thousand demon worshipers! You think they’ll just sit around and watch? Of course not! Please, Grandpa. Just stay home. We’ve already done enough. Our family’s done more than enough in the past 300 years. Why are you trying to walk into death?!”

“I’m not walking into death, John. I’m going to fulfill the mission we’ve yet to complete. I’m going to see the fruit of 300 years of effort. I want to prove that my family—my ancestors—and I didn’t live in vain.”

The grandfather looked at his grandson.

“So that even after I’m gone, you can live with pride. That’s the only way. You’ll live as the descendant of a true Hero’s bloodline, carrying the legacy of those 300 years.”

Even in jest, John couldn’t bring himself to smile.

“I’m so sick of hearing about ‘saving the world.’ It’s stupid. It’s bullshit. It took my parents, and now it might take the last family I’ve got left. I hate it. I really...”

John turned away from Ban and retreated into his room.

Then, after a moment, he returned carrying a gun.

“A 10-gauge shotgun. Gas-operated. You don’t have to manually pump it like those damn wolf-action ones.”

“It’s not recoil-based but gas-operated? Is this the one you said you were experimenting with?”

“Yeah. With your skill, you should be able to handle it just fine. So...”

John watched Ban expertly handle and inspect the shotgun he had made.

“Come back alive. No matter what. I want to live and enjoy the fruits of our ancestors’ 300 years of struggle—with you.”

Ban smiled faintly at those words.

“I’ll return with proof, grandson. I’ll show the world that your father, your grandfather, and all your ancestors didn’t live in vain.”

Ban grabbed the gun his grandson had made and dashed out the door.

John, left alone, stood in silence for a long, long time.