After a rough night, Finn wakes, ready to press forward.

  Days blur. Nights stretch. He stays on edge.

  Predators aren’t far behind, so he switches between masking spells and quiet, deliberate steps.

  Every path is weighed, every turn considered. There’s no room for mistakes. Not when he’s on his own.

  With most of the food supplies taken by his former comrades, Finn carefully rations the canned goods he has left. Instead, he relies on his knowledge from 'New Hunter Must Knows' to identify edible plants and hunts small animals along the way to sustain himself.

  After three days of relentless walking, he stumbles upon an entrance to a maze, also the very location his locator has been guiding him towards.

  The Labyrinth of the Unknown.

  Its reputation is well earned, with deadly predators waiting in the shadows below.

  Yet the promise of riches lures both fresh-faced adventurers and seasoned hunters into its winding corridors.

  He finds the entrance beneath layers of vines and rot.

  A rusted metal door lies before him, quiet and foreboding.

  He hesitates. Steps back. But the locator needle stays firm.

  He’s alone, low on supplies, and his magic is only at 'Disciple' level.

  If not now, then when? When he gathers his allies? But most of them are still rookies—would they even agree to venture into such perilous territory? Recruiting stronger hunters? That’s a luxury he can’t afford.

  Instead of waiting around for help, he figures—why not take the plunge and explore first? He can always return later.

  “Sigh… No escaping this, huh?” Finn mutters, lowering his head briefly before squaring his shoulders. There’s no turning back now. No risk, no reward.

  At least he still has his transportation stone if things go south.

  He sets his bag down and double-checks his gear. Finding Risa before his supplies run out is his priority. With one last deep breath, he pushes open the entrance to the Labyrinth of the Unknown.

  A steep, seemingly endless staircase greets him. Sunlight barely reaches the first few steps before being swallowed by darkness. As he descends, he casts a dim flash spell, not as intense as the one he used against the hyena pack, but steady enough to illuminate his path without straining his eyes.

  The stairs are covered in mud, twigs, and ominous dark stains. He treads carefully, pausing occasionally to ease the strain on his knees. By the time he reaches the bottom, his legs feel heavy, but still he presses on.

  With limited visibility, Finn surveys his surroundings. Before entering, he had already committed key routes to memory, allowing him to navigate with confidence. He only stops at a few intersections to check the map.

  Predators roam the labyrinth, but many are either too weak to descend further or have fallen in by accident. The maze operates on a strange law—predators are drawn to the deeper levels as if something is calling to them. Those too weak to advance remain on the same floor, endlessly battling their peers in a ruthless cycle of survival. Those who win enough fights and grow stronger ascend in rank and press forward, seeking the next opportune time to evolve.

  For hunters, this presents both an opportunity and a danger. Some exploit the warring predators, striking at the right moment to collect valuable carcasses. Others, however, become victims of the predators themselves.

  Finn ambushes solitary C-rank predators whenever possible, using a combination of flash spells, binding them with twigs, and finishing them with his hand sword. In mere hours, he gathers more predator carcasses than most hunters collect in a month. No wonder so many are willing to risk their lives here.

  But he is careful. He avoids direct confrontations with B-rank predators, whether alone or in packs. His goal is not trophies—it is Risa.

  Along the tunnels, he occasionally finds small, vacant rooms—safe havens used by previous hunters for rest. He always checks the area thoroughly before settling in. The remnants of those who came before him are scattered about: the charred remains of campfires, empty cans, discarded cloth scraps, even decomposing predator corpses with only their valuable parts harvested. Finn ignores these relics of past expeditions, focusing instead on the echoing footsteps in the distance.

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  The darkness is suffocating, and predators lurk in unseen corners. Finn keeps his eyes on the locator, ensuring he remains on the right path.

  On the first floor of the labyrinth, he sometimes discovers lost livestock that have wandered in by mistake, unexpected feasts in a world crawling with predators. These beasts ignore ordinary animals, letting them survive alongside monsters in this forsaken maze.

  It is common knowledge that predator meat is inedible, often causing severe illness, and predators hunt only other predators or feast on humans’ flesh.

  He captures them, brings them into a safe room, and sets up a fire. With practised efficiency, he skins and cleans the meat with a cleansing spell before seasoning it lightly. He always casts a masking spell before cooking to prevent the scent from attracting unwanted guests barging into the room from the tunnel.

  A warm meal and clean clothes: these are the only comforts preserving his sanity in this sunless dungeon.

  Finn encounters groups of hunters but keeps his presence hidden. In this place, meeting another human does not equate to safety. Alone, he is vulnerable.

  One more thing is, the locator remains silent as they pass—Risa is not among them.

  Before long, he reaches the entrance to the next level.

  “Let me see… This should lead down… Looks like it used to go even deeper, but the passage is blocked. I’ll need to find another way,” Finn mutters, studying the map.

  Unlike the basic maps provided in 'New Hunter Must Knows,' which cover only the surface of the Forest, Finn had paid extra for a more detailed map that includes the Labyrinth of the Unknown. He still recalls being impressed by the clever upselling tactics when he bought it.

  But even this map has its limits. It only records up to the fifth floor—drawn from the knowledge of returning hunters. No one who has gone deeper has ever come back.

  “It’s getting late,” he notes, glancing at the clock. Though the labyrinth is always shrouded in darkness, he maintains his internal clock to prevent exhaustion from disorienting him.

  He finds a small room to rest, casts a cleansing spell, and crafts a makeshift bed from twigs. Before lying down, he activates the masking stone to conceal his presence.

  Taking out his notebook, he studies it again. “When should I unlock the next seal for the next page?”

  He shakes his head. Now is not the time. He must conserve his magic for the dangers ahead.

  “It must be getting cold outside by now,” he murmurs before drifting into sleep.

  —

  Finn wakes early, takes a few bites of dried food, and carefully cracks open a gap in the door to scan the surroundings. Only when he’s certain it’s safe does he step out. After a few turns through the dim corridors, he reaches the staircase.

  "Now, let’s head one floor down to find Risa."

  As he descends, he notices fewer traces of hunters and predators. Not surprising—some fear venturing deeper, while others never made it past the first floor. The air grows heavier despite the floor being cleaner.

  The marks gouged into the walls and those embedded deep into the stone floor are not necessarily larger than the ones above, but they are deeper. A grim reminder: the fewer the predators, the fiercer they become. B-rank predators lurk here, though still outnumbered by C-rank ones. Some of the latter are on the verge of evolving, teetering on the edge of breaking through their limits.

  A predator’s rank can be determined in two ways—by extracting its magic core or observing the magic field it emits. Only by retrieving the core can one be certain, but seasoned magicians and swordsmen can judge by the strength and stability of the field. A shifting, unstable field signals a predator on the brink of evolvement.

  Finn keeps his magic masking spell active almost constantly now—being noticed would be a death sentence. But no matter how cautious he is, some situations are simply unavoidable.

  Navigating a one-way tunnel, he stumbles upon two predators locked in a brutal fight. The good news? They’re too focused on each other to notice him. The bad news? They’re blocking his only way forward.

  His locator needle still points downward—Risa is deeper below. He weighs his options. If he waits for the fight to end, the victor may notice him. If he attacks now, he isn’t confident about handling both at once: one is a B-rank, the other a C-rank on the cusp of advancing.

  The C-rank predator fights desperately, gambling its life to evolve. Both are wounded, yet their ferocity remains undiminished. The ideal scenario would be for them to kill each other, leaving Finn to swoop in. But timing is everything. If he strikes too soon, they might turn on him instead.

  With no place to hide, he lurks at the tunnel’s edge, masking his presence. Retreat is an option, but an idea takes root—this might be the perfect chance to test a new spell.

  He waits. When both combatants are bloodied, one slammed into the ground, the other poised to deliver the finishing blow, Finn seizes the moment.

  A flash spell erupts, dazzling them both.

  "Shriek!" A deafening roar fills the tunnel.

  Finn wastes no time. He casts a binding spell, snaring them with conjured roots. Rushing in, he drives his sword into the fallen C-rank predator. Just as he turns to finish the B-rank—

  It dodges. Faster than he anticipates, it gathers its remaining strength and rams him.

  Pain explodes through him as he’s hurled into the wall, his skull cracking against stone. His vision blurs, his limbs sluggish to respond. Through the haze, he sees the predator, now fully recovered, coiling to lunge.

  Finn forces himself to move, preparing to cast the spell—

  An invisible arrow whistles through the darkness. Stronger and faster than the water arrows that Caroline conjectured and shot.

  It strikes the predator square in the forehead. Blood gushes, splattering Finn’s face. He wipes his eyes, struggling to clear his vision.

  When he finally looks up, a group of hunters is approaching from the path ahead, which is also the very direction he intends to go.

  "Well, aren’t you lucky we happened to pass by?" A woman steps forward, a bow in her left hand.