CHAPTER 195. If There’s No Path, Then Make One
If a human and a golem raced, which one would tire first?
It wasn’t hard to answer.
‘The human would tire first.’
If you’re wondering why I’m suddenly thinking that, it’s because I’m currently having a footrace with a golem.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Infernal was chasing behind me, its heavy footsteps pounding. Truly, it’s heavy. No—terrifying.
With the ferocity of a hungry ogre, it sprinted like mad down Baharmut’s vast corridors, and compared to it, I was a little rat.
And not just any rat, either.
‘No.’
On my left I had Demian tucked in, on my right I had Chenbi, and behind us, old Sunbae Mycelln was running while staring at my back.
Up ahead, a frightened spirit was hovering around, babbling things like “Danger! Scary!”—and with two lives in my hands, I was a brave captain-rat guarding the pack.
“Sunbae Mycelln, are you alright?”
“I’m… al…right.”
Mm, thank goodness.
After checking my pack members as a captain-rat, I looked forward again and hurried my legs.
To be honest, Sunbae Mycelln didn’t look alright at all.
His face was drained white, his head drooped down like fully ripened grain. And on top of that, he kept going “Huh, huh,” forcing out heavy, burdensome breaths—so pitiful it made even me feel sorry watching him.
Getting old is sad like that.
Anyway, I had to stop this chase, if only for Sunbae Mycelln’s sake—but there was one worry.
‘What should I do?’
The original plan was to move the three—starting with Demian—to the outer area, then have me go alone to break the barrier stones.
But Infernal recovered faster than expected, leaving everything in an awkward place.
Of course, someone might say this:
“Just carry the three, sprint like crazy, shake Infernal off, then do the plan as intended.”
And I would answer:
A brave captain-rat doesn’t abandon the pack—well, not that, obviously. It’s just not that easy.
Think about it.
I’m one hand short of carrying Demian, Chenbi, and Sunbae Mycelln all at once. Sure, if I used magic and forced it, maybe I could manage, but then what about the path?
‘Ah. There has to be a path leading to the outer edge.’
Because those damned spirits changed the outer paths into a circle, there was no route at all from the central area to the outer edge—meaning the corridors we initially wandered in.
And the path that originally existed—leading from the outer passage into the center—was already far behind after all this fleeing.
So I asked,
“Can’t you make a path? Like you twisted the paths at the start?”
But all I got back was—
[Ha- hard. Sorry.]
“Hard.”
I didn’t know why it was hard.
It added some explanation about how changing the structure wasn’t something you could just do any old way, but with the spirit’s words being two syllables if short, and three or four at most if long, it was impossible to understand.
So the conclusion was that if we wanted a path to the outer passage, I would have to carve it myself—and that wasn’t easy either.
First, based on what I’d tried yesterday, the walls in Baharmut’s central area were far harder than the bedrock between the outer passage and the center.
Alright, let’s assume I somehow carve through it.
Let’s say I carve that passage, then move Demian and the other two safely through it.
Then what?
I’d have to come back through that passage in the end—so what would happen then?
‘…I’d run into Infernal in the tunnel.’
Beating it down in a fight isn’t the issue.
The problem is the flames.
When Infernal enters recovery after being damaged, it spews intense flames to protect its body…
‘The perfect temperature to get roasted.’
If those flames roar down the passage—Kwaaaah!—then Demian, Chenbi, and Sunbae Mycelln, who would be nearby, would wrap up their happy lives.
Sure, if they were far enough, they might avoid it, but you never knew. How far would flames stretching through a passage reach?
Anyway, there were a bunch of other little problems, and as I was thinking through them, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
‘Being a captain-rat isn’t just all good things, huh.’
When I was a wandering rat—when I was a Troubleshooter—I didn’t know.
Back then, all I had to do was survive.
Even if you called them comrades, it was basically: if you live together, great; if you die, you die on your own. The virtue was everyone for themselves.
So even in the same situation, there was far less to consider.
But now?
‘Mm. I can’t do that.’
Unless I’m a demon wearing human skin, would I abandon the young rats who’d been willing to stake their lives just for my revenge?
No way.
Mm, no way.
So what do I do?
Honestly, a lot of methods came to mind. A lot. But finding a method where everyone ends up happy, without variables, made the 고민 sink deep.
Sunbae Mycelln couldn’t exert his strength because of the elemental mismatch.
Telling him to use spirit power like yesterday would be elder abuse.
Chenbi didn’t even need to be mentioned, and demanding something from the one relatively fine person—Demian—would be child abuse the other way around.
In the end, trapped in a dilemma where it’s abuse this way and abuse that way, the only thing I could do was abuse my own brain.
Still, running like this wasn’t bad.
I’d been slacking a bit on workouts lately, so I could treat this as cardio, right?
Why is cardio important? Because of lung capacity.
When your heart rate goes up, your lung capacity rises, and when your lung capacity rises, you can take in a lot of oxygen at once—so in the long run, your stamina improves.
…Of course, Sunbae Mycelln might be in a bit of danger, but anyway.
So my train of thought moved naturally from the hardships of being a captain-rat to the benefits of cardio, and that was when Demian’s voice came.
“Friend.”
“Yeah.”
“Can I feed the fish?”
He meant he was about to throw up.
“You can run, right? I’ll put you down.”
“Thanks.”
The moment I let go, Demian cleverly rolled—whirr—landing on the floor, lagging three or four steps behind, then quickly sticking to my back again.
That was when Demian spoke again.
“Friend, I’ll hold out.”
“…?”
“I can hold out.”
I didn’t slow down at all, keeping my eyes forward.
But in my head, what Demian had just said echoed clearly.
If I really were a captain-rat, hearing that would’ve made me secretly proud.
‘…I’ve got another worker.’
Yeah—another brave warrior with fast legs, ready to dash out and loot humans’ tables.
But why couldn’t I feel that way?
Probably because, unlike rats that follow the cold law of survival of the fittest, I’m a person with feelings.
Maybe he thought I didn’t hear him. Demian’s voice rang in my ear again.
“Friend, I’ll hold out. While I do, you break the barrier stones.”
“…….”
At this point, I couldn’t not look at him.
It was dangerous to glance aside while running, but I was careful—very careful—as I took Demian in.
And then, I realized it.
‘…Mm.’
I’d been mistaken.
It’s obvious, but I wasn’t a captain-rat, and Demian wasn’t a young mouse either.
Somewhere along the way, I’d assumed I had to protect these three, but the moment my eyes met Demian’s, I understood.
Clear, solid eyes.
Deep, and distinct.
His face still had baby fat—his youth was obvious—but that gaze was never childish.
After meeting his eyes, I glanced, in turn, at Sunbae Mycelln and Chenbi.
“It’d be shameless to remain baggage like this. You go do what you need to do. We can’t keep running forever, can we?”
“Aster, don’t worry.”
Among the three, there wasn’t a single one who needed protection. It wasn’t only Sunbae Mycelln.
In the end, I left Demian, Chenbi, and Sunbae Mycelln behind and moved.
We split in a space as wide as the cavern where Infernal had been, and as I moved, something struck me anew.
It was the same thought as earlier—no one needed my protection.
After leaving behind Demian and Chenbi, now proper mages, how long did I walk?
Now it was time to seriously think about “breaking the barrier stones.”
‘…How long can Demian hold out?’
I didn’t know.
They said yesterday Chenbi couldn’t even last five minutes.
But Demian would be better than that, so ten minutes? Or maybe more? In the worst case, maybe he wouldn’t even manage that.
In the end, thanks to Demian’s unexpected help, I was alone—but even so, the situation wasn’t smooth.
The key was time.
‘…They said the barrier stones are positioned in four directions around the central grand hall, right?’
If the paths were laid out well, I could handle it quickly. But Baharmut was huge.
And the paths were disgustingly complicated.
Meaning there was no way to resolve it within ten minutes…
But it wasn’t like there was no method.
Isn’t there an old saying like this?
A path is something you carve out.
I don’t know if that’s a real old saying or not, but anyway, it kept brushing my mind. And in any case, following that “old saying,” I reached a conclusion.
‘If there’s no path?’
Then make one.
‘The paths are too complicated?’
Then drill through them.
Zzzzz—
I immediately ignited Collision Style and placed my hand on the wall. The wall began to cave in with a “pasasak,” and faint beads of sweat started forming on my forehead—yet a smile drew itself on my lips.
‘It works.’
It’s just filthy exhausting.
Collision Style is originally a technique for an instantaneous strike, so it wasn’t suited to sustained contact like this.
So I added the persistence of forming a force field into it.
It would’ve been unthinkable to graft that in when I was at Transfer, but my perception—having surpassed even Transcendence—made this difficult thing possible.
And I didn’t stop there. I wrapped Collision Style around my entire body.
It took no small concentration, since I’d never tried it even once, but getting used to it didn’t take very long either.
And on top of that…
I cloaked myself in flames using the secret art of Scarlet Flame (Jeokhwa).
Once that was done, my body had become a bizarre figure wrapped in Collision Style and fire. I looked down at my hand once, then placed it on the wall again.
Then—
Zzzzz….
Tadak, tadadak!
The wall crumbled into dust and, at the same time, burned away, engulfed in flame.
I could tell.
‘This is… enough.’
Last, I brought up the map of Baharmut I had in my head, and estimated my location and the nearest barrier stone.
‘…This way?’
I chose the direction.
But maybe my behavior felt strange.
[Savior? What doing?]
Spirit 1 asked.
I glanced at the one who’d somehow followed without me noticing, then measured the direction again and spoke.
“About to run.”
[…? There, not path.]
Yeah. That’s right.
Agreeing, I sucked in a breath—huup—lowered my body, and set my stance. Then I stared at the completely blocked wall. Collision Style and flames surged, flaring stronger.
Before I ran, I spoke to the spirit.
“Listen carefully.”
[…?]
“If there’s no path, you make one.”
The spirit crackled, as if confused.
Yeah. It wouldn’t understand.
But that was fine. It’s always clearer to see than to hear.
Anyway, in my head I counted again—three, two, one… and right as I hit three—
Bang!
My body charged into the wall.
And then—
Kwagararararararak!
The wall ground away like pudding, opening a path.
[…!]
The spirit was shocked.
And I was shocked too.
‘It really works.’
It would’ve been a problem if it didn’t, so I guess you could call this fortunate.
Anyway.
…Time limit: ten minutes.
Remaining barrier stones: four.
The Spirit Rescue Project had begun in earnest.
