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Labyrinth of Fright (Underdog Book #5): LitRPG Series Page 2
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“What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one,” she shrugged. “We aren’t interested in forcing adepts to become one with Chaos. I am not my sister. Occasionally, our methods differed. I believe that it must be a conscious choice. A sincere desire. Not some chance warp.”
I glanced at the troll looking for support, but his countenance bore no expression.
“It was no slip-up that I called you an adept either. I’m beyond sure that you will pass the test.”
“But what’s in it for me?” I asked. “Why should I become dependent on your chaos?”
The magister gave a sincere belly laugh. A semblance of a smile even appeared on the troll’s lips.
“So that’s how you view unity with Chaos! What do you mean ‘dependent,’ you fool? Chaos will grant you freedom, alter your body, share its power. Your spells will improve! It will help you along on the path to perfection. You have made some very powerful enemies. You will need a powerful ally such as Chaos! With time, if you can prove yourself worthy, our mysteries will be revealed to you. You will be permitted access to our faction’s armory. Our alchemists will be happy to provide you with their potions. You will learn new spells. Obtain abilities that mere mortals can only dream of!”
As I listened to the magister’s speech, I was slowly coming to the realization that I had come to a place which was structured similarly to the order of monster hunters. When the foxman was singing the praises of the order, that was about what he said as well. But the chaos faction was still a living, breathing organization. The prospect of gaining access to functioning armories and alchemy laboratories instead of just mountains of dust and ash had me seriously animated. If chaos’ elixirs were even half as effective as those Blots or satiety potions it was worth sticking around.
Above all that, I must admit ― I don’t stand a chance against the Steel King. Especially in light of what I just learned. I must grow stronger. If chaos is what gets me there ― so be it.
I took another glance at the system message hovering before my eyes and, without a hint of pity, chose the word “No.”
“You have made the right choice, my future adept!” the magister came solemnly and left the room, throwing out to the troll as she went: “Take him to join the others and bring him up to speed.”
When the sound of the magister’s footsteps had disappeared down the maze of hallways, the troll turned to me and asked:
“Want some chow?”
My stomach responded unexpectedly with a deep belly grumble, which made the troll chuckle and nod understandingly:
“Let’s go to the kitchen. We can talk there.”
* * *
The fare at the Citadel of Chaos was basic but tasty and filling. To be honest though, after having grown accustomed to the varied delicacies Mink produced, I resented having to switch back to nulled grub. Today, there was a vegetable stew on the menu.
“The magister said to bring me to the others,” I started, licking my spoon. “Are there others like me?”
“Not like you, no,” the troll answered, greedily leaning into his stew. And he was already on his fifth or sixth bowl.
There was no one else in the kitchen. We were sitting at a long wide table close to a smoldering fireplace. On the middle of the table was a big huge cauldron of recently prepared stew. When I asked who cooked it, the Gatekeeper just waved me off like a mettlesome fly. But he did explain. As it turned out, everyone here was so terrified of him that he almost never saw them. Someone would cook the food and then scram.
“Then who are the ‘others?’“ I asked.
“Those who have received the mark of Chaos,” the troll responded tight-lipped, letting me know not to expect more information on that account. But still he gave me hope: “You’ll see for yourself tomorrow.”
“What exactly is this test?” I got straight to the point.
“Finally asking the right questions. You must gather chaos particles, then be inducted at an altar.”
Hm… Familiar procedure.
“You don’t look too surprised.” The troll looked at me from beneath his bushy brows. “Have you been inducted into another faction before?”
“Is that a problem?”
“If it’s fire or forest magic ― then yes.”
I shook my head “no.”
“Then it’s fine,” the troll nodded and carried on eating.
“Where can I find these chaos particles?”
“The Labyrinth of Fright. You get them for killing the creatures that live there.”
“What kind of place is that?”
“An ancient one. A place that lives by its own rules. I could go on for hours and you still wouldn’t really learn anything. It’s something you have to see for yourself.”
“But…”
“You should always be prepared for a fight — that’s all you need to know,” the troll cut me off. “Just hold out for the allotted time, and you’re done.”
A-hem… Pretty middling instructions. Either he doesn’t want to tell me the whole truth, or isn’t allowed.
“And how long is that?” I asked.
“It’s different every time: could be an hour, a day, a week,” the Gatekeeper answered. “The record is twenty-eight days. As for me, the labyrinth held out for sixteen days.”
I scratched the back of my head, disconcerted.
“Don’t worry,” the troll waved it off. “Out there, they’ll hardly notice you’re gone. Time works differently in the labyrinth than it does in our world.”
“Will I be going in alone?”
“You’ll all go in together. But whether you’ll take the test alone or in a group is something you’ll have to work out with the others.”
Setting down his spoon, he raised a pointer finger and said gravely:
“And let me give you one last piece of advice ― don’t trust anyone in there. Rely only on your own strength. Based on the look on your face, I don’t think you’ll heed my advice but, sorry, that’s all I can tell you. Alright. Time for you to go. You need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day. For me and for you. In fact, it’ll be the most important day of your life.”
Getting up from the table, I caught myself thinking that I was not afraid. The Woodwose was right ― I had to get stronger.
Chapter 2
THE TROLL again led me down a series of dimly lit corridors and stone tunnels. We walked in silence. Neither me nor my guide made any attempts to converse. Swallowed up in my thoughts, there was a little quirk I had initially overlooked ― the farther we went, the more I became convinced that the troll could have brought me to our destination long ago but, for some reason known only to him, he was just taking us in circles.
At some intersections, he would stop and take a closer look at the wall for some reason, as if searching for guide marks of some kind. From an outside perspective, one might think he was lost. But I could tell something else was going on.
When the Gatekeeper stopped yet again and started closely studying some utterly unremarkable stretch of stone wall, it finally hit me, and I activated Scolopendra’s Sixth Sense.
As soon as the spell took effect, a totally different picture revealed itself. The walls, floor and ceiling were riddled with bright lilac magic symbols. Having grown accustomed to the dim light, the brightness of the unknown magic more or less blinded me. I even covered my eyes with a hand. And that move did not escape my guide’s attention. The troll nodded curtly at the ceiling and placed a pointer figure to his lips, as if to say, “not a word.” Then he beckoned with his palm. I pretended to understand and came forward.
“Look,” he whispered and pointed at a barely visible magic probe stretching from his supply all the way to the writing on the walls.
I nodded as if to say, “got it.” I had seen such a thing before. There was a similar system of magic channels at Stonetown and Fort Stout. Like the golem that helped us fend off the otherworldly fiends in the Stone Forest, the troll was conne
cted to the Citadel of Chaos. So that was where he drew his powers from. And at that, the size of his personal mana supply was difficult to determine.
The troll gestured for me to follow him and took a few steps down a dark corridor then stopped, again pointing his finger at the ceiling. Intrigued, I looked up. So that’s what he was looking for…
Right where the troll was pointing, there was a small gap in the magical ornamentation. The Gatekeeper took a step forward and stopped right beneath it. The magic probe stretching out of his supply grew thinner then disappeared.
“We don’t have much time,” the troll quickly started. “The rupture will close soon. Ask your questions. Just don’t waste time asking why I didn’t say anything before.”
“Is it true?” I quickly found my place. “Will I really get everything your master said?”
“And more,” the troll affirmed, nodding. “It’s all up to you.”
“The labyrinth…”
“The most ancient location in our world and, I suppose, all worlds,” the troll hastily cut me off. “No one knows who made it or when. It has its own set of laws. No one holds any sway over the Labyrinth of Fright.”
“What’s it like inside?”
“Every faction has its own portal leading to the labyrinth.”
“Do they also need chaos particles?” I asked.
“No,” the troll answered and glanced anxiously at the slowly closing breach in the magical script. “The labyrinth has different resources for every faction.”
“You’re talking like it’s alive,” I snorted.
The troll turned his gaze on me. There wasn’t even a hint of humor in his black eyes.
“Go ahead and laugh,” he grumbled. “But I really do believe the labyrinth has a soul of some kind. And everything that happens inside it are its dreams. Sometimes they’re short, sometimes long.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are many anomalies in the labyrinth of fright,” the troll began explaining patiently. “And they consist of snippets of time, events from the distant past. And they can last for a matter of hours, or a matter of months. While wandering the labyrinth’s tunnels, you can suddenly find yourself in the midst of an ancient battle raging between two enemy armies. Or you might discover that you’re in the middle of a long-vanished city. The anomalies can be large or small, and all participants in the anomaly disappear like ghosts along with it when the time is up. Beyond that, there are also times when actors in the labyrinth can themselves become anomalies without a change of scenery. Some call them ghosts, but that is a fundamental misrepresentation. After all, they are made of flesh and blood. And others like me just come up with their own ways of making sense of it all.”
I rubbed the back of my head in perplexity.
“I know it’s hard to grasp,” the troll said understandingly. “But after you’ve been there a few times, you get the hang of it.”
“What do you mean a few times?” I asked in surprise.
“Well why not?” the troll snorted. “Here in the citadel, chaos particles are the most valuable resource. For example, there will be many going into the labyrinth with you tomorrow, but only two of them have yet to be inducted. All the rest are nowhere near first timers.”
“Should I be afraid of them?”
“Of course,” the Gatekeeper nodded eagerly. “Once in the labyrinth, you become part of it, so they will get chaos particles for killing you as well.”
“Are there many of them?”
“Two groups and a few loners.”
I nodded to let him know I was listening closely.
“The first group is a pack of shapeshifters,” the troll started. “Or as you might call them ― werewolves. Chaos adores their kind. They are all born with the mark of chaos. The second group is a few snakefolk from Nure-onna’s personal guard.”
“Who?!” I asked, thunderstruck.
“Nure-onna,” the troll repeated calmly. “That’s our magister’s name.”
So that was who the Black Widow’s sister was! Yet another bedtime story used to scare children. A snake woman who sucks the blood out of her victims. An ancient monster, who transforms into a beautiful woman and lures lowly mortals with her doleful melodies.
“I see you recognize that name,” the troll chuckled.
“You might say that,” I responded with a sunken voice.
“No doubt you’ve heard your fill of the old wives’ tales,” he remarked skeptically, then added pensively: “Many of them are true, though.”
Then he shuddered and glanced up at the ceiling.
“Make haste, the breach has started to close faster.”
“Why are you helping me?”
My question caught the troll by surprise.
“Is that all you want to know?” he asked, frowning. “Is that really so important right now?”
“Of course,” I answered confidently. “I need to be sure I have an ally here or at least someone who won’t harm me. So then, why are you taking the risk of helping me?”
“The laws of my people are all I have left!” the troll responded, raising his hefty chin proudly. “And the amulet you showed me isn’t something they just hand out to any old person. You must have earned the right to carry it, haven’t you?”
I understood what the troll was driving at. He wanted to know how I got the amulet.
“It was in the Stone Forest,” I answered, and saw the Gatekeeper’s eyes light up. “We fought side by side with a tribe of trolls against throngs of dark creatures that came flooding out of an otherworldly portal. We turned back the tide and closed the portal. Not for good, but it stayed shut long enough for the shaman to lead the women and children deeper into the forest. I sincerely hope they made it to safety.”
“You said ‘we…’“
“I had friends with me,” I nodded. “One of them a healer. He saved many that day.” Recalling Mee, I smiled and added: “Believe me, he has many more of these amulets than I got.”
“I’m assuming he’s the one the Steel King is holding prisoner,” the troll guessed.
“Indeed,” I nodded.
“Then you did the right thing staying,” the Gatekeeper nodded and added with a dispassionate tone, glancing at the closing gap in the ceiling: “Let’s go, I’ll take you to join the others.”
The wide round room lined with tall stone columns greeted us with silence. But before too long, I heard rustling from a few places in the shadows, then muffled conversations.
Thanks to my Sixth Sense, I could see who I was dealing with perfectly well. Off to the right there’s a magic shield pulsating with a thousand points of protection. Around it, I can see a few bodies twitching around. That must be the first group the troll mentioned. The werewolves. I counted five of the ruffians. The one with a magic supply must be the alpha of the pack.
Opposite them, I can see three smaller magic supplies. They’re keeping to themselves. They greeted the Gatekeeper’s coming with overlong whispers that sounded more like hissing. No questions there either. Snakefolk. The magister’s personal guard.
But I could see one more small grouping of supplies, so the situation must have changed recently and there was another group the troll knew nothing about. In fact, they seemed to be the strongest and most numerous with seven in their ranks, two of them mages.
There are also loners. I see three. One of them is a mage with a two-thousand-mana-point supply. He was the only one not to react when we came in, just snoring away peacefully.
And speaking of reactions, they were clearly all afraid of the Gatekeeper. Some more and some less, but I had learned to smell fear. As a matter of fact, Gorgie had taught me to use my new abilities that way. And so now I knew that fear came with a smell all its own.
The way everyone reacted was entirely expected. A mixture of scorn and mockery. Seemingly, they took me for some kind of servant until the troll left me there. Only when the last of his heavy footsteps came echoing down the corridor did the ot
hers finally realize that I was going to visit the labyrinth with them.
I heard scornful snickering from the werewolves. The snakefolk blatantly ignored me. And the third group meanwhile, figuring that a nulled kid like me wouldn’t be much use, quickly started ignoring me as well. Thanks to my powerful hearing though, I was fully aware of everything they were saying about me.
“They’re wrong to underestimate you, right?” a mocking and creaking voice addressed me from the darkness.
He hadn’t snuck up on me. No one had been able to do that in a long time. I noticed him coming from the right almost as soon as I got settled. But still I didn’t make a move. The troll had cautioned me that fighting inside the citadel was forbidden.