[DEX: – 10%]
Stamina: 42% → 41%
It took us at least another ten minutes of cautious prodding before the maze began to feel less like a living trap and more like a living thing that wasn’t a trap. Each ti a vein quivered under the tip of my sword, Anabeth marked on the wall beside it with a number, etched with the point of a conjured stylus.
“So far, no numbered sections yet,” she murmured. Which ant we at least weren’t doubling back. Not yet, at any rate. That was a relief, though my brain refused to settle.
We’d kept right the entire way. By all logic, we should have crossed our own path at least once. How was it possible we hadn’t circled back on ourselves?
Anabeth glanced over her shoulder. As if reading my mind, she said with certainty, Ah, Sir Henry, it’s precisely the ingenuity of living labyrinths. They don’t adhere to your linear expectations. Circulation routes fold upon themselves, but only after several sequences of movent. One could walk for miles, always keeping right, without ever crossing the sa junction twice. Only the truly inattentive get lost.”
I almost expected the next corridor to yield a numbered junction like a cruel joke from the Saints above, but there was nothing. The sli had thinned, no longer pulsating like nauseating hearts, and my dexterity no longer bled away with every step. We had sohow erged from the living part of the maze.
Debuff: Gooey Terrain → Removed
Anabeth sheathed her stylus and let out a contented sigh. “A prudent pause, Sir Henry, I daresay. We should rest and allow your stamina to recover before venturing further.” She sat even before I had a“And if you’re still inclined toward experintal refreshnt,” she added, “I have several more vials of these cultured sli samples for your . . . cultured taste.”
I grimaced at the mory, but the truth was, the sli concoction had given excellent resistance against sli attacks. Disgusting as it was, it worked.
[Status Effect: Internal Sli Growth — Minor. Duration: 3 minutes. Side effect: Minor Stamina gain and Partial Paralysis.]
[Stamina Regenerated: 8%]
Stamina: 49%
[STATUS EFFECT: Sli Resonance — Active]
Effect: -50% Damage Taken
Duration: 30 minutes
So I took the vial she offered. “Thank you,” I said.
She stared at for a good second before lighting up like a festival lantern. “My first thank you from Sir Knight himself!” she squeaked. Her notebook snapped open instantly. She scribbled furiously: Received verbal gratitude. Month 04 of 12, Year 3956. Emotional quality: mild, sincere. Notable event. She even added a tiny star beside it.
Great. That killed my chance of ever having a proper conversation with her.
I truly wanted to talk to her like a normal person would. I could start by asking her where she ca from, and what she did when she wasn’t wandering through dungeons or collecting questionable substances in glass vials. Maybe even ask how she’d managed to visit the Tomb of Kervalen, a place at least a hundred miles north and decidedly not open to casual tourism. However, she had constructed so eccentric image of : so stoic, unfathomable knight with arcane instincts and inscrutable habits. If I spoke too honestly, would I shatter that? Would she be disappointed to discover I was just a mortal, with mortal needs?
I opened my visor just enough that my mouth was visible and consud my sli in a single gulp.
“You seem to love consuming sli! I shall have this noted down.” She proceeded to scribble fervently into her notebook.
I promptly clamped my visor shut so she couldn’t get another glimpse of my unfortunately mortal mouth. Then, without warning, she shut the notebook, lifted both hands to rest on my armored thighs, propping her chin atop her fingers as she peered up at with star-bright anticipation.
“Soooo . . . Sir Knight?” she sang, “Which realm do you co from? I read that so knights were preserved inside the Aetherrealm—on the far side of magic—after the collapse of the Holy Knighthood. Are you from the Holy Knighthood?”
I stared at her.
“Oh!” she added, “But you look far too unkempt to be one of those.” She nodded to herself, as if this were a complint. “Their armor was pristine for a thousand years! Not a speck of tarnish, not a dent, not even bloodstains unless ceremonial. Then you must be from the Obsidian March instead! The knight-order is said to have marched across the Nightfall Chasm without torches, guided only by their own indomitable will! So historians believe their souls turned half-feral from the pressures of darkness. It would explain your silence!”
Where did she even get her knight knowledge from? These knighthoods were not even real. They were myths. Exaggerations upon exaggerations, bedti stories for academics who didn’t actually want children. A knight from the Holy Knighthood capable of slaying ten thousand mages with a single swing? Ridiculous. Even our strongest siege engines couldn’t manage half that.
She leaned far too close now, and her huge eyes dewy with expectation. “Sir Knight . . . are there more like you?” she breathed. “Does your order still persist in secret? Do they all don armor forged from the purest silver like yours?” She tapped my breastplate. “Is this alloy ford from condensed moonlight? I promise, I’m only talkative with the right person! I shall not tell a soul.”
Saints save .
Her fascination with was unmistakably not because of . It was the armor, and the fact that I hadn’t yet corrected a single one of these absurd misconceptions. And I absolutely could not tell her the truth that I was just an orphan boy who stumbled into armor by accident and kept stumbling forward until people stopped questioning it.
I needed her around, at least until I could gain enough power to save the Knighthood of Saint rin.
“Sooo . . . will you tell ?” She asked in a honeyed voice.
Stamina: 50%
[Maximum Intimidation Re-Engaged]
I bood, “SECRETS ARE NOT GIVEN, ANABETH OF ARCHIVAL HOUSE. THEY ARE WRESTED FROM THE WORLD BY THOSE WHO DO NOT BREAK. IF YOU SEEK MINE, PREPARE TO BLEED FOR EVERY SYLLABLE.”
[Seduction Successful]
[Romantic Interest: 100%]
[Note: Get Romantic Interest OVER 100% to unlock Obsession Gauge]
Great. I maxxed out an attribute I didn’t need.
“Ohhhhh . . .” Anabeth’s breath hitched. “Say it again. I—I an—your voice modulation is profoundly motivating, Sir Knight.”
Great. No more truth. Now I was back to being the terrifying thing in the room.
Which lasted exactly three seconds.
The floor trembled. A wet groan echoed from the darkness ahead.
Anabeth turned toward the sound in haste. “Sir Knight . . . that was not .”
A shadow blotted out the bioluminescent glow as an imnse mass of writhing, translucent flesh heaved into view.
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