The Shadow Of Fate

The first thing Lazarus did after emerging from the shadowy realm where he had been piecing together Jaba's fragmented diary was to make his way to the Minotaur's Labyrinth. The labyrinth loomed before him, its jagged walls rising like scars on the earth, whispering of countless deaths and treasures fiercely guarded by monsters.

But as he stepped into its depths, an unexpected feeling of disappointment settled over him. The labyrinth, once alive with life-threatening traps and fearsome beasts, was now eerily silent. Corpses of minotaurs lay sprawled across the stone floors, their hulking forms cleaved in two. The walls bore the charred remnants of powerful magic, a testament to a battle already fought.

His crimson eyes scanned the empty corridors, searching for any sign of the intruder who had claimed the labyrinth's rewards. At the heart of the maze, the treasure chamber stood desecrated—its magical barriers shattered, its riches gone.

Lazarus pressed his lips into a thin line, the realization dawning on him like a bitter truth. Someone had beaten him to it.

"This wasn't the work of amateurs," he muttered, his cold voice echoing off the empty walls. He crouched beside a minotaur's corpse, his fingers brushing the clean slice through its chest. The faint, lingering hum of holy energy clung to the wound. "Someone skilled."

Without hesitation, he turned on his heel and left the labyrinth behind. Answers would not be found among the dead, but the Adventurer Guild was another matter. If anyone knew who had cleared the dungeon, it would be there.

The Adventurer Guild was bustling with life, the air thick with the chatter of adventurers boasting about their conquests. That lively hum ground to a halt the moment Lazarus stepped through the door. His mere presence seemed to suck the warmth from the room, silencing even the rowdiest groups. All eyes turned toward him as he made his way to the receptionist's desk, each step ringing out in the tense quiet.

"Who cleared the Minotaur's Labyrinth?" Lazarus's tone was as cold as his gaze, his words cutting through the silence like a blade.

The receptionist barely glanced up, his irritation evident as he muttered, "Another pushy adventurer. Can't you people follow protocol?"

Lazarus's patience evaporated. Faster than the man could process, Lazarus moved, his hand clamping around the receptionist's throat. The man gasped, his feet kicking uselessly as papers scattered across the desk.

"Listen to me you fucking, blood bag," Lazarus whispered, his voice devoid of warmth but heavy with menace. "Tell me who cleared that labyrinth, or I'll turn this guild into rubble with you as its foundation."

The oppressive weight of his killing intent filled the room, pressing down on everyone like an invisible hand. Conversations died instantly. Even the strongest adventurers seated in the far corners felt a chill creep down their spines.

The receptionist's face turned ashen as he struggled for air. "I-I'm sorry! Only high-ranking nobles or adventurers of equivalent rank can access that information!" he choked out, panic lacing his words.

The answer wasn't good enough. Without a word, Lazarus released the man, disappearing in a blur of motion that left papers fluttering in his wake. The room remained silent, the air heavy with fear and uncertainty.

The royal castle stood as a monument to the kingdom's might, but its grandeur offered no defense against the force that tore through its gates. Lazarus appeared in the throne room with a speed that left cracks in the marble floor. The guards raised their weapons, but their confidence faltered beneath his unyielding gaze.

"Who are you?" one guard demanded, though his voice wavered.

Lazarus lifted a single finger pointing to the king, and the room froze. Guards and courtiers alike found themselves paralyzed, unable to move or speak. Only the king's panicked breathing broke the silence as Lazarus turned toward him.

"You will come with me," Lazarus said, his voice calm yet unrelenting. "Alive, by your own will—or as a lifeless puppet. Choose."

The king's resolve crumbled instantly. "I-I'll come! Please, just don't hurt me!" he stammered.

Without hesitation, Lazarus seized the trembling monarch by the collar and encased him in a shell of mana. The two vanished, leaving the court in stunned silence.

Back at the Adventurer Guild, the receptionist nearly jumped out of her skin as Lazarus reappeared, the king in tow. Though unharmed, the monarch looked as if he might collapse from fear.

"Now," Lazarus said, his tone unchanged, "tell me who cleared the labyrinth."

The receptionist glanced nervously at the king, who gave a weak, desperate nod.

"It was… Alucard's party," she stammered. "Alucard Andurai, Eleanor, Aldous, Amabel, and Iglis van Xenon."

Satisfied, Lazarus released the king, who crumpled to the floor in a heap. With a final glance at the monarch, he spoke once more.

"If you value your life, do not seek me out. Attempting to do so will bring the end of your kingdom, your family, and yourself."

And with that, he was gone, the sound of his departure ringing in the ears of everyone present. The king remained on the floor, trembling as those around him dared not move.

Far from the tense scene in the guild, Alucard and his party walked through a sunlit forest, their spirits high from their recent victory. Alucard led the group, his laughter contagious as he recounted their battle with the labyrinth's guardian's children.

"Did you see Aldous take that hit? I swear, it barely fazed him!" Alucard said, clapping the tank on the back.

Aldous grinned. "What can I say? I'm built for punishment."

Eleanor chuckled, though her thoughts lingered on the mysterious rune pages they had recovered. Amabel walked ahead, her sharp eyes scanning the path for danger, while Iglis brought up the rear, his lighthearted banter keeping the group at ease.

"Here's to more victories," Aldous said, raising an imaginary toast.

"And to the bonds we've forged," Iglis added. "Together, there's nothing we can't handle."

Unbeknownst to them, a storm was brewing. Lazarus moved with relentless purpose, his sights set firmly on Alucard and his companions. The echoes of his encounters faded as he closed in on his target, his calculating mind sharpening with every step.

The forest seemed quieter than usual, as though the world itself held its breath, awaiting the clash that was destined to come.