Trials of the Angel’s Gaze

Shirone pulled out one gold coin. He had only asked in a hurry, not intending to use any tricks.

"Ah, here's one gold coin. Sorry for asking first."

The archer stared at the gold coin with an expression of self-reproach.

Of course, one gold was a large sum, but for a seasoned mercenary, it wasn't an amount that should make him tremble.

"Tch! Forget it. I made a mistake."

"It's not a mistake. A contract is a contract."

"I know! This is about my pride. Making a blunder like this in front of the others… I still have a long way to go."

Shirone had no particular reaction.

"Then I'll consider the last question as a free service."

"Tch, whatever."

Seeing him pocket the gold so naturally irritated the archer. At some point, he had started being swayed by this young boy.

"Then let me ask you one thing. How did you figure it out? The Indigenous Autonomous Zone is a top secret."

"Loops are sacred ritual tools of the natives. They are probably classified as special trade items. If they are profitable enough to generate huge margins, then permission must have been granted by someone with authority among the natives. And such a person would naturally be from the autonomous region."

"..."

The archer was speechless.

The Kergow ruins had seemed like an easy way to make money. He had spent sleepless nights tracking the flow of Loops and searching through information markets, only for Shirone to deduce everything in just a few words.

"Tch! You've got a sharp mind. Any more questions?"

"No. Now we need to go down and confirm."

The archer let out a bitter smile.

Shirone wasn't asking any more questions because he already knew there was nothing more to gain from this conversation.

For the next twenty minutes, they descended the staircase. Even considering the spiral structure, the depth was immense.

At the bottom, a narrow corridor extended forward, ending in an iron gate about ten meters ahead.

Two indigenous guards stood before it. Unlike those at tourist spots, they were bare-chested and didn't wear shoes.

'Those tattoos…'

The tattoos started at their navels, branching upward until they covered their faces, giving them a terrifying appearance.

Shirone didn't believe that beyond this door lay the actual autonomous district. They would likely have to walk several kilometers to reach the jungle of Toa Mountain.

The mercenaries were visibly tense.

The archer, serving as their interpreter, exchanged a few coded words in the Kergow language. The natives then pulled a switch, and the heavy steel gears groaned as the doors slid open.

"Wow…"

Shirone's eyes sparkled at the sight of an unfamiliar world.

They entered an octagonal chamber, its walls intricately crafted from stone. Another iron door stood on the opposite end, guarded by three men.

At the center of the room lay a flattened octagonal platform identical to the chamber's outer walls. Floating above each of its eight corners were spherical orbs, each about thirty centimeters in diameter.

Shirone racked his brain. He was certain he had seen these orbs somewhere before.

"Huh? Those are…"

The archer turned back in confusion.

"What? You recognize them?"

"That's from the Labyrinth…"

Before he could finish, the mercenary leader cut in.

"Hah! Why ask someone who didn't even know where we were? What's wrong? Did it remind you of something dangling between your legs?"

The leader had disliked Shirone from the moment they met at the tavern. However, the native guards reacted immediately.

"Labyrinth? Did you say Labyrinth?"

Even without knowing their language, Shirone clearly understood the word 'Labyrinth.' Curious about the reaction, the archer quickly translated.

"They're asking if you know about the Labyrinth."

"Yes. I've encountered it before."

When the archer relayed this, the native's expression twisted.

The way his tattoo contorted made him look like a demon from legend.

"You met the Labyrinth? That is impossible."

Shirone, now more determined, responded firmly.

"No, I really did."

The native fell silent, deep in thought, before his expression suddenly lightened.

"I do not pass judgment. Only the eyes of the angel shall watch over you."

Leaving behind those cryptic words, the native stepped outside and sealed the door shut.

Shirone turned away, feeling a tinge of regret, but it didn't matter. This was just the beginning.

As the mercenaries approached the central platform, one of the three native guards from the opposite door stepped forward.

Unlike the other two, his tattoos were white instead of red.

"This is the Chamber of Trials and Sacrifice. The eight eyes of the angel shall judge you. To enter Kergow, you must pass through the Labyrinth's dimensional space."

"Huh?"

At the mention of the Labyrinth, Shirone turned to the archer, but he kept his mouth shut.

"What did he say?"

"Hey, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not your personal interpreter. Why should I explain everything to you?"

"You're going to explain it to your teammates anyway. Just say it already."

"Tch. I refuse. From now on, let's not interfere with each other. We're here for our own reasons."

The white-tattooed man silently watched their argument, arms crossed. Then, realizing they needed translation, he addressed them again.

"Do any of you understand the ancient tongue?"

The archer stepped forward.

"I know a little."

"Then translate. The opportunity is equal for all. The angel's eyes are watching within the Labyrinth's dimension."

Though he still didn't fully grasp the meaning, Shirone instinctively knew this was critical information.

"Why should I? They're not part of our group. Whatever this 'opportunity' is, we were here first. Separate them from us."

"No. The moment you entered the Chamber of Trials and Sacrifice, you became one. You must choose—achieve or sacrifice. Those are your only options."

The archer clicked his tongue.

"Damn it! What rotten luck. What are we supposed to do with these brats?"

The conversation dragged on, and the mercenary mage grew impatient.

"What's going on? Just tell us already."

Left with no choice, the archer reluctantly explained the situation to the group, including Shirone.

The mercenaries were equally frustrated. Had they known this would happen, they would have ditched the kids earlier.

The mage rested her chin on her hand.

"Hmm. Trials and proof of worth are common when making first contact with other civilizations. If the angel's eyes are judging us, it likely means an assessment of skill. Kergow is a warrior tribe, after all. But lumping us together with these kids… Isn't that unfair to us?"

Amy retorted.

"You keep calling us kids, but how do you know whether we're strong or not?"

"Hoho! Is that so? Not only are you hitching a free ride, but you're actually planning to leech off us? Let me make this clear—if you mess up our mission, you'll regret it."

"Suit yourself. We weren't planning on working with you anyway."

The mage smirked coldly.

'Fine, let's see what you're really made of.'

Their petty squabbles would have to wait. First, they needed to get through this trial.

The white-tattooed man began his explanation.

"To pass through this gate, you have two options: prove your worth, or sacrifice one life to send another forward."