Although Ronan spoke with confidence, as if finding the Minotaur’s treasure would be as easy as retrieving sothing from a pocket.
In reality, being in an endless labyrinth that changes from ti to ti, even with a maze map, finding sothing whose exact location is uncertain is still not an easy task.
Especially after losing the Space Key, the ability to "freely traverse" the maze.
This requires a massive amount of brainpower for analysis and deduction, enough patience, precise control... and so luck.
Moreover, although his "obstacle clearing" plan is going fairly smoothly, it doesn’t an there are no dangers left in this maze.
It’s like a piece of fresh at falling into a trap; he only dealt with that small group of the most troubleso, fierce predators who were the first to sll the blood.
There are certainly other "monsters" in the Minotaur’s labyrinth, but their level of danger is relatively smaller.
There is no absolutely perfect plan in this world. From the beginning of entering the maze, Ronan has been exploring, fleeing, and peeling away strands to deduce various clues, creating a situation relatively favorable to him, making the maximum effort possible.
After all, he has never been particularly good at planning and scheming.
Using the Abyss Bull Demon Babli’s room as the starting point, what he needs to do next is to explore each of those areas on the map that have not yet been ventured into.
This process of asuring the maze with one’s feet, compared to the previous experience of holding the Space Key and traversing at will, occasionally having "thrilling interactions" with Level 5 Wizard Monsters, seems dull and tedious, often requiring doubling back.
Again and again, sotis it feels like the road ahead is so winding and long that it has no end.
Even with the "map" of the maze in hand, Ronan feels like he’s being slowly consud by a sense of hopeless desolation.
Molli’er, however, upon leaving Babri’s room, beca unusually quiet and obedient after learning of Ronan’s entire plan, no longer chattering endlessly.
Occasionally, when Ronan glances at her, he even sees her displaying that slight sadness and disappointnt she once showed when sitting alone at the inn window in Hor Blue Town.
Ronan doesn’t know what Molli’er is thinking.
He forgot from which book he read it, but there was a saying—A woman’s heart is ten thousand tis more unpredictable than the most complex labyrinth in this world!
Ronan is already on the path to exploring the world’s most complex labyrinth and does not want to challenge a second one simultaneously.
Ti slipped by without him knowing, not sure how long had passed.
Ronan stopped at the end of a passage, facing a tall gray fog wall that blocked the way tightly.
He casually looked at the constantly shattering and reorganizing [Annihilation] rune in his hand, patiently waiting.
His gaze swept over Molli’er.
Molli’er was staring intently at the direction of a side wall, very quietly, as if sothing on the wall had caught her attention.
Only then did Ronan notice that Molli’er was wearing particularly beautiful earrings on both ears. Compared to the last ti they t, she had many other decorations on her body, showing signs of careful adornnt, making her look less like a wizard and more like a noble young lady about to go out on a date.
Putting aside the capricious "witch" character, a quiet Molli’er was quite pleasing to the eye.
Ronan was thinking, when suddenly Molli’er seed about to turn her head, and he quickly turned his gaze away.
At this mont, the tall wall before him silently dissolved into a cloud of thick fog and disappeared, revealing a new passageway behind the gray mist.
Ronan stepped inside quickly, habitually looking around on both sides. His eyes paused slightly as he noticed a small silver door standing at the end of the right passageway, as if it had been waiting for his arrival all this ti.
"Have I found it?!"
Ronan’s eyes flickered, feeling a few irrepressible urgencies inside.
He sped up his steps and reached the small silver door in a few strides, seeing it densely engraved with many texts in a language he didn’t recognize.
"Is there another hurdle?"
Ronan morized the contents, hesitated slightly, then gently pressed his hand on the small door.
Before he could apply force, the silver door automatically creaked open inward.
Just as he was about to step in, he rembered sothing and stopped, looking back.
Only to find that Molli’er hadn’t followed, standing coldly at the entrance of the passage they ca through, watching him.
"Are you very happy, thinking you’re especially smart?"
Molli’er’s cold voice echoed within the passage.
"What?"
Ronan frowned.
"Idiot!"
She suddenly shouted, and then complex and exquisite golden patterns erged all over her body, releasing a mysterious and powerful force.
It seed to trigger so sort of rule within the maze, causing a sudden wind to rise in the passage. The high walls on both sides actively collapsed, turning into thick gray fog that swept towards Molli’er.
"What are you doing?!"
Ronan was pushed by the massive energy released from Molli’er’s body, forcing him to raise his hands in defense. He squinted, seeing Molli’er enveloped in dense flas, while countless waves of gray fog charged forward, and the power of flas and fog seed to be in opposition.
Molli’er’s shriek suddenly ca from the flas, painfully high-pitched, the terrifying sound waves even able to penetrate the Spiritual Field. Ronan couldn’t help but cover his ears.
The screaming gradually turned into so kind of bird’s cry, and finally, with a "boom," the dense gray fog exploded, scattering countless fla sparkles. When everything settled, Molli’er’s figure was already gone, leaving only an empty passageway, as if nothing had happened.
Ronan hurriedly stepped forward, picking up a dim, slightly damaged red feather from the ground, representing the last trace of Molli’er’s existence.
"No wonder she said such things when entering, was never very interested in finding the exit... turns out there were ways to oppose the maze rules and forcefully leave the maze.."
Ronan looked at the broken feather in his hand, his brows furrowing.
He truly did not understand Molli’er’s actions; she brought him into the maze, though possessing the ans to leave, yet faced danger repeatedly without leaving.
One would think she was after the treasure, but they were already at the doorstep of the treasure, and yet she just left.
And then the last words she spoke...
"Really..."
Ronan lowered his hand and slowly exhaled: "Inexplicable!"
He turned towards the silver door, contemplating asking Alazan later if there was a way to completely eliminate the lingering soul connection with Molli’er.
He didn’t want to experience sothing like this a second ti.
With Molli’er gone, Ronan felt no more concerns and stepped directly into the silver door.
After a brief space traversal, Ronan opened his eyes.
Imdiately, he saw an empty little room.
In the center of the room was a small table made of vine wood, and placed upside down on it was a beautiful silver dressing mirror.
Besides that, there was nothing else.
This scene felt sowhat familiar to Ronan. After careful recollection, it resembled what he had seen when he first entered the Secret Mysterious Garden Realm through the Silver Magic Ring.
It wasn’t surprising, considering the key artifacts to solving the labyrinth—the Space Key and the Rune Map—were obtained from the Garden Secret Realm.
Perhaps they shared the sa owner.
Ronan thought as he slowly walked to the center of the room, approached the vine table, and picked up the silver dressing mirror on the table.
Upon clearly seeing the image in the mirror, Ronan’s pupils flickered intensely before he softly murmured.
"Void... Mirror?!"
......
A desolate and spacious wilderness.
Beneath the sowhat gloomy sky, a region of void suddenly showed intense fluctuations.
Before long, the shape of a door erged, and then a pair of hands forcefully pushed it open from the inside.
A tall and slender silhouette, draped in a wide, decayed Black Robe, slowly stepped out.
The figure hovered in mid-air, tilting his head slightly upwards, revealing a handso and mature face under the seaweed-like long, wet and sticky hair.
The man squinted, gazing at the direction of the sky above, and slowly spoke: "What a beautiful day..."
"Swish—swish—"
One figure after another stread out from the Light Gate behind the man, each exuding a strong aura of cold and sinister presence.
Upon their arrival, they imdiately fell into collective excitent and revelry.
"We’ve co out! I finally ca out..."
"This isn’t a dream, right? Tell it’s not a dream.."
"Ohh.. I’m still alive! Astrid, did you hear that?... I’m still in this world!"
Just like a group of people hiding in dark, damp caves, who hadn’t seen sunlight in ages, they greedily inhaled the outside air.
After a brief period of excitent, everyone’s emotions gradually cald down, and unknowingly, all their eyes converged on the handso man in the decayed Black Robe.
So displayed deep apprehension in their eyes and suddenly dashed in one direction, swiftly turning into a tiny black dot and disappearing.
So had flickering eyes and, after their expressions changed, ultimately did not move.
Soon, out of the dozen figures that erged from the Light Gate, a small number chose to leave, leaving only six standing still, all focused on the back of the decayed Black Robe man.
"Why don’t you leave?"
The man withdrew his gaze from admiring the sky and, restored to his initial calm and composure, spoke indifferently to the six who hadn’t left behind him.
Among the six, a scarecrow-like figure in a Grey Robe, body assembled haphazardly like withered yellow straw, emanating a scorching and ominous aura, stepped forward and knelt on one knee before the man’s feet, uttering in a dark, hoarse voice.
"We... are people who have stepped out from the stacks of old papers... Returning holds no aning for us.
It was Lord Narros who granted us rebirth!
From now on, we wish to remain loyal and follow Lord Narros..."
Having spoken, the Scarecrow Wizard bowed his head respectfully to the sa level as the man’s feet.
The remaining five also slowly knelt down.
The man turned around, gazing quietly at the six kneeling before him.
A faint, indescribable aura rose from under his decayed Black Robe, gradually veiling the sky.
After a long ti, the man finally spoke, in an unusually calm tone, saying:
"The world should rember those nas they once forgot..."
The six wizards all raised their heads, faces filled with excitent and near fanatical expression.
They roared the na "Narros," as if conducting so ancient and devout ritual.
The man’s expression was relatively composed.
"Misha..."
He softly whispered a na to himself.
It seed as if he was lanting, or perhaps contemplating sothing.
"What an outstanding young person."
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