Chapter 32: Esmeray
"Well, what a surprise."
The woman's voice was warm. Too warm.
Like someone who had been alone for an eternity and had just found their first conversation partner.
"It's been so long since I've seen a living human! Where are you from?"
She sounded genuinely excited.
Ethan, on the other hand?
He was suffocating.
Her presence wasn't just overwhelming—it felt wrong. Profane.
Like standing in front of death itself.
His instincts screamed at him to run.
He took a sharp step back, adjusting Anita on his back, making sure she was still safe.
The woman's eyes flickered.
Then—her expression shifted.
Her brow arched, her amusement fading into something else.
"Wait… what?"
Her gaze sharpened.
"You're… only E-rank?"
Her voice carried genuine disbelief.
As she said that, she immediately withdrew her aura, realizing she might be crushing him with it.
Ethan blinked. "…Yeah?"
Her jaw tightened.
Even SS-rank beings struggled to exist here.
But this kid?
An E-rank human standing here like it was a casual stroll?
Impossible.
Her mind raced. How?
"How did you get here? What are you doing here?"
She fired off questions, but Ethan barely reacted.
His only comfort?
The barrier.
She couldn't reach him.
That was all he needed to stay calm.
Finally, he spoke.
"What are you?"
Because there was no way she was just another lost soul.
Every other soul he had seen was wandering, suffering, breaking.
But her?
Too normal. Too collected.
She raised a brow.
"I should be the one asking you that, boy."
Ethan ignored the jab.
"I'm Ethan. I'm here for my second trial. The Tower put me here. And it's protecting me during my trial."
Straight to the point. No nonsense.
Esmeray's face went blank.
"…Your second-floor trial brought you here?"
For a moment, she looked at him like he had just declared himself the ruler of the universe.
This place wasn't meant for the weak. Even less for a second-floor trial.
Even with protection, the mere existence of an E-rank here was unheard of.
But then… she remembered.
The Tower tested people differently.
There were those—the irregulars—whose trials were far beyond normal logic.
She had heard stories, but…
She never thought she would meet one.
Her gaze lingered on Ethan, her eyes narrowing slightly.
'The irregulars are known to be dangerous. Their power mysterious and powerful. But this Ethan look too gentle, too soft.'
Never mind. A second trial floor at this labyrinth, he is certainly not ordinary and that what I have to remember.
And then, like a slow-moving tide, an opportunity formed in her mind.
She had been here for millions of years.
No escape. No company.
Even for someone like her, it was becoming unbearable.
Maybe… just maybe…
Her posture shifted. Her smirk softened.
"I'm Esmeray Mendil."
She leaned against the barrier, watching him with interest.
"As for why I'm different from the others?" Her smirk widened. "That's simple. I'm not dead."
Ethan froze.
"…What?"
She nodded. "I'm alive. My body's still perfectly fine in the world of the living."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Then why the hell are you here?"
Her smirk turned sheepish.
"Well… I'm a necromancer."
"A necromancer?"
"A very good one, if I may add." She straightened, looking pleased with herself.
"I wanted to understand souls better, to improve my spells and abilities. So, naturally, I came here."
Ethan's expression went flat.
"Naturally?"
She ignored his tone.
"I figured, hey, what better place to study souls than the Labyrinth of Souls itself? This place is a paradise for soul research."
She gestured vaguely around her.
"So I entered with my soul body… and then, well—"
She tapped the barrier between them.
"This thing trapped me. I didn't even get to explore. The moment I stepped in… boom. Barrier. Millions of years gone just like that."
Silence.
A long, long silence.
Ethan stared at her.
Deadpan. Expressionless.
His brain processed her words one by one.
She came here on purpose.
Got herself trapped.
For millions of years.
'What an idiot.'
Who the hell walks into a death trap for "research"—
Wait.
Millions?
His gaze snapped back to her.
She looked… young. Mid-twenties at most.
Green eyes. Green hair. Pale skin. A deep green robe that clung to her body in all the right ways.
Ethan had seen beautiful women before. But Esmeray carried herself differently—like someone who knew exactly how dangerous she was.
Curves in the right places.
Legs long and smooth.
Her chest… unreasonably large.
Her hips… worse.
Ethan squinted.
"…Wait. How old are you again?"
Esmeray blinked.
Then—her lips curled into a smug, knowing grin.
She leaned in slightly, showing her breast more openly, her voice turning honey-sweet.
"I'm too beautiful to be an old hag, aren't I?"
Her tone was low, teasing, seductive.
Ethan's mind blanked for half a second at this sight.
Then, he forced himself to look away.
'Nope. Not doing this.'
His willpower had been tested enough today.
Esmeray chuckled.
A deep, sultry sound.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
'Ahh…I truly missed human presence.'
And she was enjoying every second of it.
—End of Chapter 32—