Chapter 82: The Labyrinth of Shadows
A Rodent Monarch's Hollow Crown
Gurgu, the self-proclaimed "Prime Minister" of this absurd rodent kingdom, led the group forward with all the dignity of a condemned prisoner. Though he claimed absolute authority during the Medusa Queen's slumber, his subjects—swarms of panicked mice—scurried away at the sight of their captured leader. Their cowardice was so profound it bordered on parody.
"So much for loyalty," Dadaniel muttered, watching a mouse abandon its crumb of cheese to dive headfirst into a crack in the wall.
Bennett smirked. "They've perfected the art of survival. Let's call it… strategic retreat."
Above them, crows circled, their croaks warped into crude mimicry of human speech: "Outsiders! Outsiders!" Hussein's blade flashed, silencing the flock with bursts of golden energy. Feathers rained down like ash.
Gurgu whimpered. "Do you know how long it took to train those birds? To tweak their vocal cords with magic?"
"They weren't speaking," Hussein countered coldly. "You altered their cries to sound like words. A parlor trick. Ask your rats to recite poetry, and I'll spare your head."
The rat's whiskers drooped.
Bennett, ever the mediator, softened. "You wanted companions who wouldn't see you as a monster. Creatures that could… understand."
Gurgu met his gaze, silent gratitude in his beady eyes.
Walls of the Damned
The path to the palace was guarded by towering walls of jagged stone—crude but imposing. Gurgu gestured bitterly. "Built by enslaved treants. Medusa's petrified victims. Even in death, they serve."
Bennett ran a hand over the cold rock, imagining the agony of sentient beings trapped in stone. "A fate worse than death."
"She could turn the entire forest into her army," Gurgu whispered. "Yet she stays hidden here. Why?"
The question hung unanswered as they rounded a bend.
The Palace of Living Wood
The Medusa's lair loomed before them—a grotesque monument of twisted timber. Bennett recalled Old Wood's grief: this structure was carved from the bodies of ancient treants, their souls extinguished to fuel the queen's vanity.
Gurgu hesitated at the threshold, paws trembling. "Must I… go in? She'll flay me alive for betraying her!"
Hussein seized the rat by the scruff. "You'll die here if you refuse."
The group donned darkened lenses—precaution against the Medusa's lethal gaze. Even Hussein, prideful as he was, conceded to practicality.
Chamber of Illusions
The grand hall was dominated by a chilling statue: a serpentine woman of breathtaking beauty, her stone eyes icy and predatory. Snakes coiled around her naked form, fangs bared.
"Your handiwork?" Bennett asked Gurgu, masking unease with levity.
"Twenty years of solitude teaches many skills," the rat muttered.
Beyond the statue lay a corridor warped by magic—a tunnel stretching into infinite darkness.
"A sensory illusion," Bennett deduced. "Walk blindly, or wander forever."
Dadaniel frowned. "Why force intruders to close their eyes? It neuters her greatest weapon!"
"Unless…" Bennett's voice trailed off, suspicion kindling.
The Queen's Paradox
The second door opened to absolute blackness. No torches. No light. Only void.
Gurgu shivered. "She prefers the dark."
Bennett's mind raced. "First, a path that demands blindness. Now, a realm of shadows. It's as if she's helping us avoid her gaze. Why?"
Hussein ignited a pale glow from his blade, revealing walls etched with serpentine runes. "Perhaps her eyes aren't what we fear."
The light flickered, catching something in the distance—a faint, rhythmic hiss.
Gurgu froze. "She's awake."
Chapter 83: The Serpent's Gambit
The Mage's Shadow
In the suffocating darkness of the Medusa's labyrinth, Bennett stood motionless, his senses sharpened to a razor's edge. Though his magical repertoire remained limited, his raw power—honed through relentless discipline—thrummed beneath his skin like a caged storm. Closing his eyes, he cast his consciousness outward, threads of psychic energy unfurling like silken webs. The blackened chamber dissolved in his mind's eye, replaced by a crystalline map: three doors, each pulsing with faint, malevolent energy.
Hussein, ever the warrior, bristled at the unseen threats. "What now?" he growled, hand tightening on his sword.
"Three paths," Bennett murmured. "Left, right, center. A test… or a trap."
Dadaniel's voice cut through the gloom. "Too convenient. Three doors for three of us. She wants us divided."
"Or delighted," Bennett countered, a wry edge to his tone. "Our hostess enjoys games."
Hussein's blade hissed as he drew it, the golden aura of his斗气 (douqi) casting jagged shadows. "Let's burn the walls. Flush her out."
Bennett raised a hand, a flickering orb of flame blooming in his palm. The light revealed Gurgu cowering at his feet. "Our esteemed Prime Minister knows more than he admits."
The rat squeaked as Hussein seized him by the throat. "Speak. Now."
Gurgu's whiskers trembled. "The doors… shift with her will! She toys with you! Only one leads to her throne!"
"Then why three?" Dadaniel pressed.
"Because she wants you to choose," Bennett interjected, his flame dancing in his eyes. "To savor your fear. To watch you unravel."
The Fractured Fellowship
Against all logic, Bennett insisted they split.
Hussein scoffed. "You'd walk alone into a death trap?"
"Not alone." Bennett's gaze slid to Gurgu. "Our rodent diplomat will take the left. You and Dadaniel the right. I'll face the center."
"Madness!" Dadaniel hissed. "You're no match for her!"
Bennett's smile was glacial. "The Medusa is a woman, isn't she? Let's see whose gaze holds more… persuasion."
The unspoken threat hung heavy: his cursed "Charm Gaze," a demonic gift that turned desire into weapon.
Hussein relented, but not without a final jab. "Die if you must. But don't expect tears."
The Illusionist's Web
Bennett's door vanished the moment he crossed its threshold. The chamber beyond defied reason—a void where even his psychic tendrils frayed. Shadows coiled like serpents, dissolving logic, warping space.
"Show yourself!" he called, voice steady.
The reply came not from a single direction but from the air itself—a sibilant whisper that clawed at his sanity.
You heard my call…
Bennett smirked. "Only I sensed your little invitation in the dark. Flattering, really. Do you lure all guests with riddles?"
A pause. Then: You are a mage. Gurgu's crude tricks bore me. Teach me… and survive.
Light exploded. The room contorted—walls melting, floor undulating. Bennett staggered as the world reshaped itself into a nightmare tableau: a mirrored hall reflecting infinite versions of himself, each trapped in a looping agony.
"A psychic maze?" He laughed, loud and reckless. "Amateur hour. Let's dance, Your Majesty."
The Knight's Crucible
Hussein and Dadaniel fared no better. Their path twisted into a cavernous arena, its ceiling studded with petrified faces—warriors, mages, even children, frozen in eternal terror.
"Coward!" Hussein roared,斗气 flaring like a sun. "Face me!"
The Medusa's voice dripped mockery. Break my toys, little knight. Prove your strength.
Stone cracked. The statues shuddered to life, eyes glowing crimson. Dadaniel nocked an arrow, face pale. "She's reanimating her victims!"
Hussein charged, blade carving arcs of golden fire. "Then we'll grant them peace—permanently."
The Rat's Betrayal
Gurgu's door led to a claustrophobic burrow reeking of decay. The walls oozed black sludge, and the air hummed with trapped screams.
"M-Majesty?" he squeaked. "I had no choice! They forced me!"
A serpentine figure coalesced from the shadows—a woman with scales glinting like oil, her face obscured by a veil of living smoke.
Liar.
Gurgu collapsed, writhing as his limbs petrified inch by inch. "Mercy! I'll serve! I'll—"
You've served enough.
The last thing he saw was her smile—a crescent of fangs.
Chapter 84: The Labyrinth of Longing
The Mirage of Memory
Bennett stood frozen on a bustling city street. Neon lights flickered in the humid night air, casting rainbow reflections on rain-slicked asphalt. The scent of fried chicken wafted from a 24-hour KFC, its glowing red sign a beacon of familiarity. He glanced down: a Nike sneaker peeked from beneath jeans he hadn't worn in years.
"A memory prison," he muttered, voice tight. "How original."
The world hummed with uncanny precision—the rumble of traffic, the shriek of arcade games from a nearby shop, the sticky sweetness of a half-melted ice cream cone in his hand. He bit into the cone, the crunch of the wafer transporting him to a thousand midnight snacks in another life. For a heartbeat, his resolve wavered.
Why resist? The serpent's voice coiled through his mind, sly and probing. You've missed this, haven't you?
Bennett swallowed the nostalgia like ash. "Privacy's a virtue, Medusa. Ever heard of it?"
Ignoring the phantom crowds, he crossed the street with deliberate slowness, pausing at the crosswalk as if daring the illusion to falter. At the KFC counter, he pulled a wallet from his pocket—a relic from a dead man—and bought a cigarette pack. The first drag seared his lungs, bitter and glorious.
"Harmful?" He exhaled smoke toward the starless sky. "So's power. So's you. But humans crave what poisons them. That's our curse."
The street warped as he spoke. Flames erupted from his palms, devouring storefronts, melting traffic lights. A fire hydrant burst, water hissing against inferno. Screams echoed, but Bennett's smile never dimmed.
"Enough games." He crushed the cigarette underfoot. "You think trapping me in regret will break me? I buried this world. Let it rot."
The Knight's Crucible
Hussein's sword clanged against Kaelik's blade, the impact reverberating through the coliseum's bloodstained sand. Around them, spectral knights advanced—faces he'd once called brothers.
"Traitor!" Kaelik roared, his Ninth-Rank Knight Insignia gleaming like a brand. "Kneel before the gods!"
Dadaniel lay crumpled nearby, an arrow jutting from his shoulder. "They're illusions, Hussein! Cut them down!"
But the knight hesitated. Kaelik's eyes—wide with righteous fury—were the same ones that had once praised him at his knighting. The same ones he'd extinguished years ago.
Coward, the Medusa whispered. You fear your own shadow.
Hussein's Dou Qi flared, golden light clashing against the knights' silvered armor. Yet every parry grew weaker, every strike half-hearted. A blade sliced his ribs; he staggered, tasting copper.
"Why…?" Dadaniel choked. "Fight!"
"I can't!" The admission tore from Hussein's throat. "They were my family!"
Kaelik's phantom pressed closer. "And you slaughtered us. Does your new master reward loyalty?"
The words struck deeper than steel. Hussein's sword dipped—until Dadaniel's scream pierced the haze.
"Live, damn you! Expose the truth!"
Truth. The word ignited something primal. With a roar, Hussein's blade arced upward, shearing through Kaelik's spectral form. The knight dissolved into smoke, his final snarl echoing: You'll join us soon.
The Serpent's Confession
Bennett awoke on cold stone, the stench of burnt sugar lingering in his nostrils. The chamber stretched vast and hollow, its only furnishing a monolithic slab at the center.
"Cozy," he drawled. "Ever consider curtains?"
Medusa's laugh rasped like scales on stone. You mock what you cannot comprehend.
"Comprehension's overrated." Bennett rose, dusting off his jeans. "But let's trade truths. Why show me my past? Lonely?"
Silence. Then, softer: What is… loneliness?
He stilled. The question hung raw, vulnerable. When he replied, his voice gentled.
"It's screaming into the void and hearing your own echo. It's ruling a kingdom of statues—beautiful, silent, lifeless. It's forgetting warmth because no one's left to remind you."
The air thickened. For a heartbeat, the Medusa's presence trembled—a crack in the monster's armor.
You see too much, mage.
"Occupational hazard." Bennett approached the stone slab, tracing its jagged edges. "But here's a secret: loneliness isn't a cage. It's a mirror. And mirrors… can be shattered."
Chapter 85: The Crucible of Conviction
The Bloodied Epiphany
Hussein's knees buckled, his silver armor now a canvas of crimson. Blood pooled beneath him, each droplet striking the coliseum floor like a funeral drumbeat. A gash above his left eye painted his vision red, the world reduced to a haze of agony and fading light. His sword—shattered moments ago—lay in jagged fragments, reflecting the spectral glow of Kaelik's advancing blade.
"Yield, Hussein." Kaelik's voice boomed, a ghostly echo of the mentor who once clasped his shoulder in pride. "The gods' will is absolute."
The knight laughed, his breath rattling like rusted chains. "Absolute?" He dragged himself upright, palms grinding into gravel. "You taught me honor, Kaelik. Honor to protect the weak, to defy tyranny. Was that… also the gods' will?"
Kaelik's phantom towered over him, sword raised. "Blasphemer! The divine order—"
"—is a lie!" Hussein roared. Blood dripped from his chin as he met Kaelik's gaze, raw defiance blazing through the pain. "What is god? A tyrant demanding blind obedience? A shadow puppeteering this farce?" His voice cracked, not from weakness, but fury. "If god is all… then why does suffering persist? Why must we slaughter to uphold its silence?"
The coliseum trembled. Kaelik's blade descended—but Hussein's hand shot up, bare fingers closing around the ethereal steel.
Crack.
Golden light erupted from his palm, devouring the sword like wildfire. The phantom staggered as Hussein rose, wounds knitting beneath a mantle of radiant Dou Qi. His eyes—now molten gold—locked onto Kaelik.
"You are not my mentor," he whispered. "You are my doubt. My fear."
With a flick of his wrist, Kaelik's head rolled. The coliseum shattered.
The Phoenix Unbound
Hussein stared at his bloodied hand, the Dou Qi around him crystallizing into a corona of pure gold. Flesh mended, bones reforged—yet the true transformation lay deeper. The weight he'd carried for years—the guilt of betrayal, the shackles of dogma—dissolved like ash.
This is power, he realized, not borrowed from gods… but seized from truth.
Across the void, Bennett watched through a rippling stone portal, lips quirking. "Told you he'd figure it out."
Medusa's voice slithered through the air, tinged with rare unease. He surrendered. Then… refused to break. Why?
"Because humans are contradictions." Bennett plucked a pebble, tossing it into the vision. The image rippled—Hussein's golden aura flaring like a newborn star. "We crumble, we despair… but somewhere in the rubble, we always dig up one last 'no.'"