Chapter 112: Walking Into the Trap With Your Own Feet

Haidian tilted his head.

“If they still haven’t shown themselves… maybe the cultists already left the field?”

“Escaping a System Level-3 field is impossible without a specific skill or artifact…”

Come to think of it, even if they used another artifact, would they be sent back to the Divine Domain?

Teacher had warned that the Divine Domain was where the Apostle’s gaze reached, so be careful.

But part of Ion also wanted to speak with those voices again. If he trained to project his voice properly, he could communicate. They seemed like the Apostle’s servants; he might get useful information.

“They could’ve obtained an artifact, right?”

“…There’s a sure way to check.”

Ion pulled out Moshi. Only one use left, but once he rejoined Earth, he could get more.

[Current Entrants: 25]

Exactly seven fewer than before. The exact number of Age cultists their party had killed on the first day.

Since both Idea and Earth used Arabic numerals, even Haidian understood.

“So they’re definitely still somewhere in here… Are they tailing us? Creepy…”

Sensing presences required mana. Ion glanced at Bran. Bran closed his eyes, scanned the surroundings, then opened them.

“Relax. No one around.”

“A mongrel might not be able to sense someone hiding well enough.”

“Then can you sense anything?”

“…No.”

Ion tucked the now-depleted prototype Moshi into its leather pouch. Opening and closing his compressed spatial pocket drained yet more mana. Truly nothing he did didn’t cost mana. He sighed.

“Noisy…”

Baba rubbed its eyes and woke up. The little bat flew into Ion’s arms.

“Dam Ion needs sleep. Stop talking. Everyone be quiet.”

It wasn’t a “command,” but Bran shut his mouth anyway.

“Ah, so that’s what it was.”

Haidian smiled softly and leaned back against the chair-back, clearly planning to drink under the night sky. Baba burrowed deeper into Ion’s embrace.

Ion gently stroked the warm ball of fluff and whispered,

“You… made us rest on purpose so I could sleep, didn’t you?”

“Yep. Dam Ion tired. Worried about mana. Overdoing it…”

“I’m not tired and I’m not worried.”

“When people get tired they get mean. Angry. Sad. Depressed. I worry about Dam Ion. Sleep now. Lullaby~”

“…”

“Lullaby lullaby~”

“…”

“Lulla…”

“…”

“…”

It fell asleep to its own lullaby.

Now I can’t even get mad when Baba forces a rest next time.

Ion smiled and tickled the bat.

“You’re a full-grown adult making a tiny bat worry like this?”

Bran whispered with a grin.

“Anyway, don’t worry. Unless you voluntarily walk into a mana-drain circle, you won’t run out of mana. As your loyal bro, I’ll protect you!”

…

But Bran’s promise did not hold.

The next day.

They started moving again at dawn. When the sun was high, they sensed Age cultists and stopped.

On top of a scorching sand dune, they saw a polygonal mana-drain magic circle.

In its center: a tempting Shift pistol, and…

“Let it go! I—I have to save that child right now…!”

“Are you insane?! No! Hold it! Hey, fairy-pipi, grab Ion!”

“Ion-ssi, calm down! It’s fake! That’s not your Sanse!”

…a Sansevieria in a pot.

They had never once put the plant away since entering the field.

Unlike the Moniti dungeon where they traveled in a military truck across the same desert environment, they had only used flight magic this time—Ion’s mana was already past critical and into dangerous territory.

He might literally have to be carried by Bran soon.

“Using a Sansevieria as a hostage, those bastards!”

Ion ground his teeth.

Bran firmly gripped Ion’s arm.

“Hey, anyone would think that was your Sanse. It just looks similar—it’s a completely different plant. No need to get worked up. Calm down.”

He was right.

Ion’s Sanse was safely cradled in his arms.

The Sansevieria inside the mana-drain circle was one Ion had never seen before.

But that didn’t make it any less precious. Every plant was precious in its own right.

“Bran, if a fellow hybrid were trapped in there, would you stay calm?”

“Are you seriously asking that? Any hybrid stupid enough to get caught there deserves to die.”

“…Haidian-ssi, if an elder were trapped there, would you not go rescue them?”

Haidian jumped.

“Eek… then… I’d have to go in right away… But the analogy is a bit different… That’s not your plant, it’s a stranger… If it were another tribe’s elder, I’d ignore it and walk past. It’s obviously a trap…”

He was right.

A Sansevieria and a Shift pistol placed dead center in a mana-drain circle.

And standing beside them: the same small-statured Age cultist from the first day they entered the field.

Only the heterochromatic eyes were visible beneath the mask and long bangs, making his expression unreadable.

He had set up the most blatantly obvious trap imaginable and was waiting like come on in.

“Just kill the bastard and destroy the mana-drain device. No need to step inside.”

Bran raised his hand. A dense, sticky mass of demonic energy formed in his palm. He grew it to soccer-ball size and hurled it into the circle.

BOOM!

The demonic energy passed through the mana-drain circle without issue but was blocked by a polygonal shield that appeared in front of the cultist.

“Oh?”

Bran attacked several more times, but the cultist blocked everything with some aura ability.

FSSSHHH—

Only sand and dust rose, obscuring vision. Bran spat, “f*ck!”

“Hey, fairy-pipi. You got any ranged attacks?”

“My only aura ability is Revelation.”

“Useless fairy-pipi. Fine. Ion, it’s yours. Only use as much mana as you can afford. Don’t get excited.”

“…”

Ion knelt and placed his hand on the dune, preparing vine magic.

But then—

“Huh? He’s moving. Ion-ssi, wait. The cultist is moving.”

For the first time, the cultist who had only been watching took action.

He slowly walked to the center, picked up the Shift pistol. They tensed, thinking he would attack, but instead he ejected the magazine and showed five silver-white bullets on his open palm.

“He’s insane… all five are loaded with Ult?”

He reloaded the magazine, set the pistol down, then rummaged in his pocket and pulled something out.

“What the hell is that?”

“First time I’ve seen it…”

Ideans had never seen it, but any Earthling would recognize it instantly.

‘A smartphone…?’

Why is a smartphone here?

Come to think of it, Sansevieria didn’t exist in Idea either. When delivering Teacher’s letter, even the fairies had said it was a plant they’d never seen.

The cultist held the phone so the screen faced them.

The bright white screen meant it was powered on.

He placed the phone between the Shift pistol and the Sansevieria.

It was unmistakably bait.

Then he buried a round, flat mana-drain device into the Sansevieria’s pot.

He stood, looked straight at Ion, drew another Shift pistol from his waist, and—just like last time—shot himself.

A teleportation circle appeared and whisked him away.

“Wow, what the hell is that guy doing?”

“No presence anymore… He really teleported! I don’t understand… What’s his goal?”

“…”

Ion had the same question.

What was the goal?

Use a Sansevieria as hostage to lure them into the mana-drain circle… and then what? The next logical step would be murder or kidnapping, right?

But the cultist just vanished.

As if the only purpose was to drain the mana of whoever stepped inside…

It made no sense.

“Ah, that Shift Ult pistol is tempting. Ion, what do we do?”

Rescuing the Sansevieria was emotional, but rationally, a pistol loaded with five half-power Ults was worth far more than one mana-drain episode.

And the cultist was gone.

There was no reason not to go in.

“We go in. I’ll destroy the mana-drain device first. You two guard the perimeter.”

“No! Absolutely not! I vehemently object! Dam Ion must not enter! Big pain! Great suffering! Despair!”

Baba flew in, shouting vehement objections.

Ion set Baba on the real Sanse pot. Baba had never seen Ion suffer mana depletion and go into “drunk” mode.

Yet it opposed this strongly…

Because Sanse told him.

Ion stroked a leaf. It felt rough—Sanse was worried and angry.

“Please take good care of our Sanse. When I go in, I’ll definitely faint and wake up days later. Keep Sanse by my bedside during that time.”

“Days later? The fairies woke up right away.”

“That was in Idea. There’s no natural mana in this field. And I have a special constitution…”

“Ah.”

“No need to water him. He’ll be very sensitive, so don’t accidentally touch the leaves… Sometimes stroke the pot. Sanse likes sunlight and wind. Let him get plenty…”

“Hey, are you going off to die…? Handing your current boyfriend your ex…?”

“And Baba… ten mana sulfur crystals per meal… If he yawns, tell him it’s cute… He likes having the base of his wings scratched…”

“Shut up! Enough!”

Bran yelled.

“How big a deal is mana depletion that you’re being this dramatic? Fine, I’ll go in.”

Bran strode toward the mana-drain circle.

But—

“ARRGH! It stings! Shit!”

The circle had been modified with Elida holy water or something; the moment Bran touched it he screamed and retreated.

Then shouted from 100 meters away:

“You got this!”

“…”

Fortunately, one more person remained.

“Useless mongrel. Don’t worry, Ion-ssi. I’ll get it.”

Haidian, having finished another bottle in the meantime, hiccuped his way to the circle—and the moment he touched it, he screamed and stumbled back.

A status window appeared.

[Entry Denied – Blood Alcohol Concentration 0.03%]

It was getting suspicious.

How did the Age cultists know to prepare countermeasures like this?

“Sorry, Ion-ssi.”

“It’s fine. I have some resistance… Please take care of Sanse.”

As Ion stood, Baba sniffled.

“Dam Ion… no. I said no. I said I object. Command.”

“Your commands don’t work on me.”

“I’ll command Bran to go in…”

“Baba. Don’t ruin this. I’m already exhausted…”

“I’ll go in and destroy the device. I’m not human. I’m animal.”

“No. There’s a magic circle engraved on your wings right now—if mana drain triggers, we don’t know what’ll happen.”

Kyuu…

Baba’s round eyes welled up. Ion petted it gently.

“Actually, there’s something only you can do.”

“What?”

“While I’m unconscious, you’ll probably meet Jin Seong-ha. Earth and Idea languages don’t translate. Baba, you have to interpret.”

“Interpret? I’m good at that. I’m confident. I know all languages. Special and amazing bat.”

“Yes. Special and amazing bat. I leave the rest to you.”

Ion handed Baba to Bran.

Bran accepted with a face that said is this really a tear-soaked farewell?

Hic, hic.

One person didn’t grasp the gravity, the other was drunk and hiccuping.

It was depressing that the only one he could truly rely on was a tiny bat… but it couldn’t be helped.

Ion stepped one foot into the mana-drain circle.

“Ugh…!”

The last scraps of mana were sucked out; his knees buckled on their own.

From now on, it would be life force keeping him standing.

BEEEEEEEE—

Vision blurred, tinnitus roared. Thirty steps to the center.

Thirty steps that felt infinitely long.