There was an unspoken rule among adventurers: never attack a fellow adventurer inside the Tower. That was why Royal Guards patrolled the area, ensuring order was maintained. Even stealing from another adventurer carried severe consequences.

  But right now, I was in a secluded place—far from prying eyes, far from the law.

  Five figures.

  That was the first thing I saw as my vision gradually returned.

  "Heh. Thought you were a monster for a second," sneered a hulking warrior, his massive warhammer resting casually on his shoulder.

  Those fuckers…

  I clenched my fists, forcing down my anger. There was no mistaking them. I had seen their faces before—just before entering the Tower. A gang of scum, nothing more.

  “Well, well, well... What luck!” The brute chuckled, bending down to pick up the Soul Fragment I had fought so hard for. "The thing I've been searching for was just lying on the ground, waiting for me."

  With a smug grin, he popped the fragment into his mouth.

  "Congratulations, boss! You finally got your first Soul Fragment!" one of his lackeys gushed, desperate to earn favor.

  "See ya, grass-fed weakling," another jeered, shoving me backward before they turned away, laughing as they left.

  I remained frozen in place, my rage simmering beneath the surface.

  I will get stronger. No matter what it takes.

  ***

  Thick, inky-black smoke billowed from the altar, curling into the air like writhing shadows. The dark stone surface pulsed faintly with an eerie, otherworldly glow, radiating an unsettling presence.

  For several tense moments, the ritual chamber was silent, save for the lingering hiss of dissipating smoke. Then—

  Thud!

  A small object dropped onto the altar’s surface with a dull, heavy sound.

  I stepped closer, my breath caught in my throat as I examined the item before me. It was a hexagonal relic, its surface etched with intricate, cryptic patterns that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles.

  I could hardly believe it—I had managed to obtain this on my very first Tower exploration.

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  The process to acquire such an artifact was far from simple. It required the sacrifice of several rare monster parts, along with an immense quantity of mana stones—resources that should have taken far longer to gather. And yet, here it was, resting in the palm of my hand.

  A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.

  Looks like I owe you one, Mad-Eye Mordok.

  With this in my possession, there was nothing left to prepare.

  I was ready to enter the labyrinth.

  ***

  The first thing that greeted me was the towering stone head of a monstrous bull, its lifelike features carved with eerie precision. The sheer brutality and terror etched into its expression perfectly captured the nature of the beast it represented—Minotaur.

  This was the Palace of Minos, a vast and imposing structure built in the style of ancient Minoan architecture. Its massive limestone walls, worn by time, were overgrown with creeping vines and patches of moss. Despite its age, the palace still exuded a sense of indomitable strength, as if it had withstood countless sieges and trials.

  The palace itself was an endless labyrinth, a sprawling maze of corridors and chambers designed to confuse and trap those who dared enter. It was from this place that the very word labyrinth had originated—its treacherous design meant to disorient even the most skilled adventurers.

  To reach the main entrance, I had to ascend hundreds of stone steps, climbing from the lower courtyards toward the heart of the maze. And now, as I stood before the entrance, the weight of history and legend pressed down on me.

  Inside lurked the creature that had haunted countless adventurers—Minos the Minotaur.

  A terrifying beast with the body of a man and the head of a bull, it towered over five meters tall, its immense frame packed with raw, unrelenting power. In its massive hands, it wielded a colossal iron club, capable of crushing stone and bone alike.

  But brute strength wasn’t its only advantage. Despite its size, the Minotaur was incredibly fast—so fast that even the most agile elves would struggle to outrun it. Against a creature like this, escape was almost impossible.

  Defeating one required at least three elite teams, each composed of five adventurers ranked Fifth Floor or higher. Even with those numbers, victory was never guaranteed. I still remembered my struggle against it in the game—it had taken me dozens of attempts before I finally prevailed. The mere memory of those battles sent a shiver down my spine.

  And yet…

  Here I was.

  A newborn druid, walking straight into the depths of this deadly labyrinth.

  The moment I crossed the threshold, an unnatural sensation washed over me.

  It was subtle at first, but within seconds, I could feel it spreading through my body. My skin tingled—hypersensitive to every shift in the air. My limbs felt weaker, as if my physical strength had been drained. But strangely, amidst the discomfort, my magic felt… amplified.

  So this is what it feels like.

  [Field Effect Activated – Daedalus’ Curse. Cooldowns reduced by 50%. Incoming damage increased to 300%.]

  I exhaled slowly, steadying myself.

  This was no ordinary dungeon. This was a death trap.

  And the real challenge had just begun.

  Real challenge?? So, all this life-and-death struggle Erynd’s been going through was just a joke to you?

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