NOVEL NEXT Chapter 105: David Fangblade?
The goblin warlock's forehead pressed deeper into the dirt, its entire body shaking with submission. "I don't dare betray my lord," it croaked. "Please believe me."
Ethan didn't respond right away. His gaze lingered, searching the creature for even a flicker of deceit. But all he saw was desperation—and something else. Hope.
Even so, his guard remained high. He wasn't the type to walk blindly into traps, no matter how favorable the opportunity seemed.
Still… it'd be a waste to turn back now.
He exhaled softly and flicked his fingers. "Alright then. Lead the way. You and your group."
The goblin warlock looked up just enough to meet his eyes, then quickly bowed again. "As you command, Lord Human."
With that, the goblins slowly began rising, cautiously forming up into ranks, the warlock hobbling to the front of the group as they prepared to march.
Ethan didn't move immediately. His eyes stayed locked ahead, thoughtful.
'Let's see just what kind of sanctum these goblins have… and if it's really worth the gamble.'
He gave a silent nod to Kaeryx, who trailed closely behind him as they followed the goblin warlock deeper into the twisting terrain of the Great Labyrinth.
The real adventure had just begun.
Ethan walked in silence, Kaeryx padding behind him like a great shadow. The goblin warlock led the way with quick, nervous steps, occasionally glancing back to make sure Ethan was still following. The remaining goblins, though fewer in number now, moved in an organized formation around their new 'lord,'
The goblins whispered among themselves in their guttural tongue as they moved ahead, their sharp voices scraping against the dense mana in the air like rusted knives. It was a harsh, clacking language, filled with throat-sounds and sharp hisses, utterly incomprehensible to Ethan's ears.
He frowned. It was clear they didn't want him to understand.
And indeed, he couldn't—unless they spoke to him directly, like the goblin warlock had done. For some strange reason, when the warlock addressed him earlier, its words had come through clear in his mind, perfectly translated, as if the world itself wanted him to understand.
But when they spoke among themselves, that invisible translation was gone. The moment they shifted to their own language, it became alien—untouchable. Ethan mentally noted the inconsistency.
'So… only when they speak to me directly, I can understand?' he mused, eyes narrowing slightly. 'Another strange rule of this world…'
Because that's what this was.
The Great Labyrinth wasn't just a dungeon.
It was a world. One governed by rules. Systems. Secrets.
A game-like realm with mechanics that defied the laws of his own world.
Even now, Ethan could feel it—the subtle hum beneath the soil, the invisible threads in the air that wove everything together. Everything in the Great Labyrinth had a purpose, from the way monsters gathered in formations to how mana flowed unnaturally dense through the trees and stones.
And perhaps the strangest thing of all…
Leveling.
No one could level up in their original world, no matter how many Awakened beasts they killed. Even if they slaughtered dozens, hundreds—they'd remain the same. Rank progression might occur through effort and breakthrough, but the numerical levels, the stat gains, the "EXP" system that governed power… that only existed here.
In the Great Labyrinth.
It was a question scholars and adventurers across countless races had asked again and again: Why only here?
Why did this mysterious realm grant the ability to grow stronger by killing? Why did the essence of progression itself seem to be locked within its walls?
No one knew. Not truly.
The leading theories varied. Some said it was the work of an ancient god, others that the Labyrinth was a sentient being testing all races for a larger purpose. Some even whispered that the entire world outside was just a "surface layer"—a waiting room for the real world beneath.
And yet, despite the theories, the facts remained unchanged:
You could only level up here. Only gain skills here. Only access the true depths of your potential… here.
Ethan didn't yet understand it all. But he would. He would peel back the layers, one by one, until he uncovered the truth.
For now, he followed the goblin warlock in silence, eyes calm but mind racing.
Because the more he experienced, the clearer it became. This wasn't just an opportunity.
It was a test. And he had no intention of failing.
As they traveled deeper into the forest-like terrain of the Great Labyrinth, the environment began to shift. Thick trees gave way to towering grey rock formations, the kind shaped by ancient winds and coated in thin moss. The ground underfoot turned from loose dirt to firm, stone-packed pathways. Despite being deep within a wild and chaotic place, these roads were clearly man-made—or rather, goblin-made.
They walked for nearly half an hour before Ethan noticed the outline of tall wooden palisades in the distance, partially hidden behind a thick haze of mana fog. His eyes narrowed.
"A fortified position…?" he murmured.
The goblin warlock heard him and nodded proudly. "Sanctum, my lord. We call it Grosh'ka."
Ethan's brows lifted slightly. "Grosh'ka, huh?"
As they approached, a tall watchtower came into view at the edge of the palisade. Atop it stood a goblin clad in crude leather armor, holding a long bone-forged spear in one hand and a spyglass in the other. The moment the watchman saw the group approaching, it straightened in alarm—only to relax when the warlock raised a glowing sigil in the air.
A deep creak echoed as the heavy wooden gate slowly opened, groaning like a beast reluctantly stirred from slumber. Inside, Ethan stepped into the goblin sanctum—Grosh'ka.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
Grosh'ka was a crude but fully functional shelter built in layers. The perimeter was surrounded by wooden walls reinforced with slabs of scavenged metal and enchanted stone. Inside, it looked like a small village—smoke curling from cooking pits, makeshift smithies belching out heat, and rough cabins lining a dirt main path.
But what caught Ethan's attention wasn't the architecture—it was the people.
No, not just goblins.
Among them were several other races—Minotaurs, Orcs, and even a handful of humans. Most of them wore slave collars around their necks, their expressions dull, shoulders hunched, eyes sunken from exhaustion. They hauled materials, pounded on anvils, stirred huge pots of gruel, or simply stood at attention, awaiting orders.
It was a society—twisted, but functioning.
The goblins barked orders, often accompanied by the backhand of a whip or the shove of a spear butt. While most of the enslaved looked weak and broken, Ethan could tell—some of them were strong. Mana pulsed faintly from a few, especially one silver-haired human hauling lumber with surprising ease. But none dared to resist.
He understood instantly. They weren't here out of loyalty.
This was survival.
For them, serving in this sanctum, cruel as it was, was safer than wandering the wild labyrinth, where the Awakened Beasts roamed freely and death lurked in every shadow. Out there, they were nothing. Prey. Here, at least, they had shelter, food, and a bitter kind of peace.
Ethan's jaw tensed.
The goblin warlock turned toward him with an eager smile. "Impressed, Lord Human? This is Grosh'ka. I am Vurrk, its overseer. With your strength, this sanctum can rise further. You'll be respected. Feared. And—if you wish—it can serve as your base of operations."
Ethan didn't answer right away.
His eyes slowly swept across the settlement—the desperation, the twisted hierarchy, the strange order formed in this forgotten corner of the world. He could feel the attention of many already fixed on him, both from the goblins and the enslaved.
There was opportunity here.
And danger.
He looked to Kaeryx, who let out a low rumble and narrowed his reptilian eyes toward the sanctum's center tower, as if sensing something… darker.
Ethan returned his gaze to Vurrk, expression unreadable.
"I'll decide after I see more," he said simply.
The goblin bowed. "Of course, Lord Human. I will give you a full tour."
Ethan stepped further into Grosh'ka, the strange sanctum tucked deep within the folds of the Great Labyrinth. The gates closed behind him with a dull, metallic thud, sealing him inside what could only be described as a twisted mockery of a stronghold.
Everywhere he turned, eyes watched from the shadows—some wide and fearful, others narrowed and bitter. Hope flickered faintly in a few gazes… but dread drowned most of them. The air was heavy with resignation, the kind that came from being caged too long without a sliver of freedom.
Dilapidated structures formed a chaotic grid across the sanctum, crudely built with stone and reinforced with bones—beast and humanoid alike. The stench of sweat, blood, and stale breath clung to the air like a curse. Slaves toiled in the filth, dragging supplies, repairing huts, or feeding mangy beasts penned in makeshift cages.
Then—
Ethan's eyes twitched.
His gaze had landed on a familiar figure, hunched under the weight of a crude basket filled with firewood, sweat trailing down a lean but muscular back.
David Fangblade.
'What the hell is he doing here…?'