Prologue
“—No——?! Volka, Volka?! No, don’t die!! Don’t die——!!”
“Eh, ah…? Wh-why… me——”
“Senpai?! Senpai, stay with us—ugh?!”
Voices.
So noisy. My vision is blurry; I can’t tell up from down. I slightly shift my body.
—It seems I lost consciousness for a moment.
My master is shouting loudly. Honestly, she’s overreacting. Usually, she plays the role of a textbook “loli granny,” always putting on the airs of a mature elder, but when unexpected situations arise, she reverts to her true self. I just got a little hurt protecting my companions, right? I don’t even feel any pain.
An inexplicable, slippery liquid is flowing down my face.
“Ah… is this potion? Thanks…”
“Eh? Vo-Volka… w-what are you saying?! Volka?! No, please, don’t—you have to stay with me!!”
Master is getting even more bothersome. Huh? This isn’t potion? Then what is this liquid? I casually wipe my face with the back of my hand, and my vision becomes somewhat clearer. I look ahead.
Deep within the labyrinth, the boss room ominously appears amid rows of flaming skulls. This bizarre space is filled with bone-chilling cold, with stagnant green miasma floating everywhere. And right before me is my master, frantically calling my name, her face tear-streaked and crying excessively.
—Behind her stands a ‘Grim Reaper’ raising its scythe.
I almost praise myself for reacting in time. I sprang up like lightning, grabbed my master’s arm, and together we leaped back with all our might—or at least, that was supposed to happen.
But as I used all my strength to pull my master’s arm, my body despairingly lost balance. As a result, I was powerless against the enemy’s swiftly swung deadly blade.
“——!!”
Fortunately, it wasn’t a direct hit. The tip of the scythe just lightly grazed me; you could say it barely touched me. Let alone a fatal wound, it shouldn’t even be an injury that would knock me down from pain.
—If only the scythe weren’t taller than me, that is.
The right side of my face is completely slashed open, from forehead to cheek, including my right eye in a straight line. A splitting pain runs through my entire body as if my head were being torn apart. I helplessly collapse to the ground.
Master lets out a scream as if she herself had been cut.
—Life-Taker, the Grim Reaper.
The true master lurking in the deepest depths of the already conquered labyrinth Goth. A shadowy figure formed from a tattered cloak mixed with undead spirits, wielding a vicious scythe embodying the very concept of death. Just like its name, it’s the Grim Reaper harvesting adventurers’ lives—a super-class terrifying monster that even S-rank parties must be prepared for total annihilation when encountering.
Memories gush out in my mind like spurting blood; I suddenly understand, and this realization takes the shape of despair.
Why.
Because I remembered.
Because I realized.
(Ah, damn it——)
—I know this guy.
—I know what’s going to happen next.
We’re going to be annihilated here.
Because that’s how the story goes.
(Why—only now)
If only I had realized before entering the labyrinth—or rather, before being teleported to the deepest level by that transfer trap—I would have turned back without hesitation.
An incurable, dark fantasy manga with detailed illustrations and merciless storytelling that once disturbed me emotionally.
A supporting party that dies worthlessly early in the story, as if they existed only to die.
That party is us, now in the very scene of annihilation.
I thought I was in a typical isekai reincarnation. Having finally arrived in a fantasy world of swords and magic, I devoted myself to the way of the sword that I had secretly longed for since my chūnibyō days in my previous life. I endured outrageous training that could only exist in a fantasy world, stood on my own, met companions, and lived as an adventurer with considerable strength for seventeen years. I believed that as long as I was with this party, with everyone, we could go anywhere.
What a huge misunderstanding. We’re about to die here. Soon, we’ll be devoured by hordes of monsters summoned by the Life-Taker. I’ll be torn limb from limb while still alive, and my young female companions will be violated multiple times before being eaten. A merciless, tragic ending awaits us.
…Ah, it seems this world holds no mercy for reincarnators from another world.
Just when I remembered, I’m about to die—isn’t this a dead end?
“No, no… no… no…”
Muttering as if in a dream, my master clumsily holds me with trembling arms. She doesn’t pull me away to escape, nor does she try to distance herself from the enemy as much as possible. She just desperately clings to the thing that’s about to disappear before her eyes—a defensive reaction that’s too meaningless and futile.
I don’t even need to see her expression to know. She’s completely broken down. After all, she’s always been pretending to be mature, but in reality, she can’t handle stress well. I’m sorry for being such a disappointing disciple.
The other companions.
“L-Lies… No, I, I… ah, uwaaah…!!”
Our party’s strongest close-combat heavy warrior—a tanned maid—is collapsed in a corner of my vision, her pupils unfocused, lost in a daze. Her expression looks like it’s about to shatter at any moment. She’s usually very calm, an almost expressionless ice queen… But suddenly being protected by someone weaker than herself, it’s natural she’d be confused and in chaos. Sorry, my body just moved on its own before I realized it. Please forgive me.
“Se-Senpai…! Senpai, run!! No, it’s no good, run… run…!!”
Our last hope, the youngest genius swordswoman, is blown against the wall and can’t even stand up, desperately shouting at the top of her lungs. It’s too dark to see clearly, but there seems to be blood flowing from her head. Hey, she’s the youngest girl in our party, you know. Knocking a kid like her flying—is there any humanity in you?! Like a monster would have humanity, damn it…!
As for myself—I’m literally “covered in blood”; it’s harder to find a spot that’s not bleeding. The liquid I thought was potion earlier turns out to be my gushing blood. The back of my hand is dyed bright red, clearly visible even on the black glove. …Hey, isn’t my left leg cut to pieces with even the bone showing?! This is too gory! No wonder I suddenly lost my balance; don’t joke with me!
Life-Taker’s counterattack without any wind-up, the piercing attack that renders the heavy warrior’s defensive magic useless—I wish these only appeared in manga or games. …Well, there’s no doubt this is exactly the world of that manga.
No one can move.
Moreover, this space is a crappy trap where we can’t transfer or escape before the battle ends—a sudden-death floor where either we annihilate the monsters, or we’re annihilated by them; only these two options.
The enemy before us is the embodiment of unfairness. It’s said that any adventurer who thinks of fighting it seriously is utterly foolish. Upon encountering it, you shouldn’t think about defeating it but should do everything possible to escape.
—There’s really no way. Even if our party were in perfect condition, we’d hardly stand a chance against it.
No matter how we struggle, it’ll be just like in the original, completely hopeless—
(—No, actually, maybe not?)
Perhaps because the hot blood in my head is being forced out of my body, my thoughts become strangely calm.
That’s right, not everything is the same as the original.
There’s someone here who knows the “original.” I vaguely remember the method to defeat this guy. Because this guy will be easily beaten by the original protagonist who arrives here later using that method.
It’s indeed an overpowered monster, worlds apart from ordinary foes, possessing overwhelming attack power and a broken immortality. A single hit from its scythe means certain death. Whether you’re equipped with mythical-level gear or have divine blessings from the Holy Maiden, it’s meaningless.
This guy exists to bring adventurers a death filled with despair. So it won’t easily kill its opponents until they are in utter despair. It will unreservedly display its powerful instant-death skills and immortal body, toying with others through an overwhelming power gap before taking their lives.
It has no intention of delivering a fatal blow to me lying on the ground; it’s joyfully overlooking my crying master to savor our profound despair as much as possible.
But actually, there’s a simple and straightforward “method” to break its immortality.
As long as you use that method, even one person can easily take it down single-handedly. Despite its grand name Grim Reaper, it’s no big deal—that was the monologue of the original protagonist, Berserker, who defeated this monster in just three double-page spreads.
And as long as we defeat this true boss monster, the horde of creatures that cruelly slaughter us in the original won’t be summoned, and we can transfer back to the labyrinth’s entrance.
I can overturn the original.
Since we’re going to die anyway, let’s struggle as much as we can before that.
I recall the scene where the original protagonist forcibly injected magic power into his injured leg to move. Although I don’t remember the principle, I’ve lived as an adventurer in this world for seventeen years; at this moment, there’s no reason I can’t do it.
An indescribable feeling washes over me. My mind is clear, without any haze or noise, extremely calm, and slightly—annoyed.
Are you kidding me? This delayed “first-encounter instant kill” has its limits. Being toyed with by a predestined death ending from the start is utterly infuriating.
Moreover,
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Volka, if only I—”
—Seeing my master, tears dropping onto my cheek, crying her heart out, I too want to burn my life a bit longer.
You’re scared, aren’t you? You never thought it would end here, right? There are still many things you want to do, dreams you want to achieve. You don’t want to die; you want to continue, to keep on living, don’t you?
I’ve already died once; reincarnating into this world feels like living in an incredible dream beyond human understanding. I don’t want to die either, but if I can accomplish certain things before passing on, I feel like I was reincarnated to do just that.
Before me is an invincible enemy, and my body is already on the verge of death, but there are companions here that I must protect. What’s there to hesitate about? To protect my comrades, there’s nothing to lose by struggling desperately, no matter how futile it may seem.
This is just perfect.
I happen to be utterly unwilling to accept that annihilation ending.
Let me completely eliminate the bad ending of the original before dying.
I summon power back into my body on the brink of collapse. Releasing my master’s arm, I apologize in my heart, push her backward, and imagine threads of magic stitching up my left leg.
“Eh—Volka? W-wait… No, you can’t, you can’t do this…! No, no, don’t go!! Volka——!!”
Master is shouting something, but I ignore her. Formed in a second, executed in a second, I stand up. If I can stand, then I move forward. As long as I can defeat that Grim Reaper, I don’t care what happens afterward. Whether my legs are sliced into pieces or my life reaches its end, I no longer think about anything beyond this moment.
In a flash, I draw my sword and deflect the approaching scythe.
Life-Taker seems to widen its eyes slightly. Under the deep hood of its cloak, it’s pitch black; I can’t see its expression, but if it’s shocked with eyes wide open, serves it right.
I grip my partner in my right hand—a black, slender, single-edged curved blade resembling a Japanese katana—with all my strength. I’m going to push you hard now; you might break, but save your complaints for the next world.
Swinging, sheathing, adjusting my breath, hand on the hilt, sinking deeply into my left waist—the stance of Iaido.
Since I’ve reincarnated into a fantasy world, I spent over ten years persistently pursuing the stylish “sword-drawing technique” that can only be perfected in fiction.
…Ah, this feels good. I can’t feel any pain at all. Is it because I’m now standing at the edge of the cliff, just one step away from death? My consciousness seems to be sinking into the depths of the sword through the feeling of the hilt. Sword and soul combining, as if becoming one.
I feel like I can freely cut down all the unreasonable obstacles before me.
I’ve decided how to use my life; there’s no need to be afraid now. Excluding everything except Life-Taker from my thoughts, I pour all my remaining strength into this moment. That guy raises its weapon again, unleashing magic power, and seems to finally recognize me as an “enemy.” In the torrent of intense magic, I grin. It forms nearly a hundred black magical blades in the air, shooting them at me at astonishing speed. I intercept them all with a single sword; a few blades I couldn’t block graze my body. I click my tongue—my body’s movements differ from my imagination. I need to go further, delve deeper into the sword. I can do it; if I can’t, I’ll just die. I step into the embrace of this fool full of openings.
Draw.
—But you know, life really is unpredictable.
Ten days later, having desperately avoided the annihilation ending, I find myself lying in bed for some reason, not in the other world.
“—No!! No—!! No matter what happens, I will never leave…!! We’ll always, always, always, always be together…!!”
“…Master, about that,”
“Alright, Senpai, you don’t have to do anything, okay? You don’t need to push yourself anymore. Leave everything to us from now on.”
“No, that’s why I’m saying,”
“Nope, just stay still; you’ll definitely feel comfortable. It’s okay, leave it all to me.”
“Wait! Let’s talk this through first, wai—”
Then, my companions’ expressions become inexplicably strange.
I can handle something as trivial as wiping my own body by myself!
