Kongsha’s assault was even more terrifying than Saul had imagined.
Now, Saul realized he hadn’t underestimated Kongsha, but he had underestimated the severed head of the Elf King that she had acquired.
It seed she was drawing upon the power of that head, forcibly commanding the ancient Soul-Devouring Mire to attack a palace it had no business setting foot in.
The pieces of furniture that had “co alive” inside the palace rushed forward to fend off the oncoming tentacles.
But how could they possibly contend with tentacles several ters thick?
In just a few monts, many of the animated furniture pieces had been smashed to pieces, scattered in bits across the floor.
The palace doors were no longer wide enough to contain the mass of black tentacles—one tendril forced its way through the wall beside the entrance.
The sturdy wall collapsed under the impact with a thunderous crash, crushing several of the defensive furniture pieces beneath the rubble.
Very soon, the entire wall around the palace doors had been destroyed, and Kongsha, who had been standing outside the entrance all along, finally stepped forward and re-entered the palace.
No matter how chaotic the battle between the tentacles and furniture beca around her, Kongsha’s eyes never left Saul.
Not even for an instant.
Seeing her step into the palace, Saul imdiately retreated, taking off into the air and flying straight toward the next grand hall.
Behind him, more pieces of furniture erged to intercept the incoming tentacles. But with their limited strength, they could only buy him a few seconds.
“Luckily, she has the Soul-Devouring Mire… and I’ve found allies of my own.”
Using the resistance put up by the palace’s furniture, Saul finally reached the last hall.
But the mont he arrived, he froze.
Both staircases in this final hall—had vanished!
“No stairs? And yet you still want to bring the treasure over?” Saul couldn’t help but find it laughable. “Good thing I never pinned all my hopes on others.”
He landed, then turned to face the way he’d co.
By now, Kongsha had strolled casually into the eighth hall.
The two of them stared at each other across the archway.
Kongsha looked at Saul’s calm expression and found it amusing.
In her eyes, Saul was completely cornered—yet still trying to put on a show of composure.
She wanted to see that look of panic from him again—the sa one he had worn the day he knocked on her bedroom door all those years ago.
“You know why I was able to survive here for over half a year, even after stealing the Elf King’s treasure?”
Saul silently stirred his soul body, Magic surging throughout his body. “So, I underestimated the treasure you stole.”
With the ancient Soul-Devouring Mire backing her, there was no way he could face Kongsha head-on.
He fixed his eyes on her and the ancient mire lurking behind her, clearly itching to strike but restrained by her will. Magic flowed to his hands.
If he wanted to defeat Kongsha now, he’d have to find a new battlefield.
But just as he was about to cast a spell, the air pressure around him suddenly spiked. It felt as if he’d been dropped hundreds of ters underwater—his muscles and bones all groaned under the sudden strain.
At the sa ti, the walls of the hall collapsed outward with a deafening roar, kicking up a storm of dust.
The ceiling above his head stretched upward rapidly, soaring into the far distance until it vanished.
Kongsha, who had just been facing him in the eighth hall—along with all the black tentacles—had vanished when the dust cleared.
In the span of a single breath, Saul found his surroundings consud by utter darkness—front, back, left, right, and above.
And yet, despite the absence of light, he could still see everything clearly.
Beneath his feet was still the stone floor of the ninth hall, its patterns and cracks unchanged.
From within the surrounding darkness, it felt like distant gazes were watching him.
“This place is…” Saul flinched. The ninth hall had transford into sowhere hauntingly familiar—the ntal realm!
If his hands weren’t still apart, if the platform underfoot didn’t look slightly different, and if there weren’t a lack of stars above, he might have truly believed he had entered the ntal realm ahead of ti.
But he knew this wasn’t it!
While he stayed on high alert, countless overlapping voices rang out in his mind.
The mont he heard them, Saul felt as if his skull were about to explode. The pain forced him to one knee, barely holding himself up.
The voices kept pouring into his head, as if soone were trying to inflate an already bursting balloon. Saul felt like his brain was about to be squeezed into mush.
Thankfully, the chaotic voices began to stabilize. The disordered rhythm slowly fell into sync, and Saul could finally understand the aning behind the words.
They were speaking High Elven.
He had never studied this language, but the owners of the voices forced it into his mind through sheer repetition and ntal compulsion.
“Take the King… leave the valley… find… the half-elf…”
“Take the King… leave the valley… find… the half-elf…”
Though Saul had been forced to learn an incredibly complex arcane language within re seconds, the minds of the speakers were clearly not entirely sane.
While he could now understand each word, their intent remained unclear.
Were they asking him to take the Elf King’s head out of the valley—or Kongsha?
If the goal had always been to get the head or Kongsha out, then why seal the valley and trap all the apprentices for half a year?
And who was the half-elf? Where would he be?
Most importantly: what would they do if Saul refused?
“Brother Saul!” Suddenly, Penny’s voice echoed in his mind.
She was also speaking High Elven.
Her voice sounded very distant, like a call cutting out on a phone with terrible reception—Saul even felt like he had earbuds blocking his ears.
“Penny!” he called back, straining to respond.
“Brother Saul… you mustn’t… take it out!”
“Absolutely not!”
Penny’s voice, fuzzy and warped, sounded frantic.
“You an I can’t take the Elf King’s head outside?”
But there was no further response from Penny.
“Take the King… leave the valley… find… the half-elf…”
“Take the King… leave the valley… find… the half-elf…”
Only the jumbled, persistent commands remained, repeating over and over.
Saul opened the diary in his mind, enduring the crushing pressure around him, and asked Agu—who had reverted to a black page.
“Is this the sa black room you were taken to before?”
Sharing Saul’s vision, Agu imdiately scratched out a response, excited:
[The room I went to was pitch black—I couldn’t see anything. But Master, I recognize those voices! This is definitely the sa room I was taken to for mission orders!]
“This room vanished after I chose the warped staircase. It was clearly hiding from . But now it’s appeared again and it’s issuing orders completely opposed to those from the Pure White Throne?”
Saul recalled the mont Kongsha led the black tentacles into the palace.
It was clear both sides were in conflict.
“Could it be that the elves of the Forest of Seasons are split into two factions, and now that the Pure White Throne is suppressed by Kongsha’s invasion, the black room has erged to issue a forceful mission?”
The thought made Saul’s head throb.
“So even after I lured Kongsha here, the Pure White Throne still can’t take back its treasure?”
“You placed the order, I cooked the dish, and now you want to spoon-feed it to you?” Saul couldn’t help but scoff. “If that’s how it is, I might as well just accept the black room’s mission!”
Of course, he was just venting. His instincts scread at him—the Elf King’s head must never be brought outside.
Just then, the darkness around him was suddenly overtaken by white. Black and white began to consu each other before his eyes. The entire space trembled, growing wildly unstable.
CRACK!
A sound like shattering glass.
The interwoven black-and-white world fractured into shards and disappeared.
Saul was back in the ninth circular hall of the palace.
But in the very next second—a spike of ice shot through his left arm.
Still disoriented from the illusory realm, Saul was imdiately knocked down.
The ice spike didn’t stop—it pierced through the stone floor, nailing him hard to the ground.
(End of Chapter)
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