This time, it took them five minutes to get back to where they were because of Narisva's teleportation.
Apparently, Narisva's teleportation works in two ways. She can teleport to any place within her field of vision and she can mark a place and teleport exactly where she was before. In this case, she teleported herself right in front of the black spire.
And... the frozen statues were still there.
"How can this be? It even froze Farrynelle. Just how powerful is that thing?"
Xander faced her, who was also a frozen statue. The fact that not even her survived the eye was already shocking enough. However, what shocked them was that her eyes were closed.
"She was still affected by the curse even when she closed her eyes," Narisva revealed with a sigh. "Which means that whatever is inside that spire is what is making this place frozen. What's the plan, Vastarael?"
"Wait. You're asking me?"
"Well obviously we are. You don't seem shocked by this at all."
In fact, Vastarael was shocked by this. The only thing that made him maintain his calm was the fact that their souls were still burning bright. In fact, it was as if their bodies were in suspended animation but as froze statues. Their souls were still the same as before and they never dimmed.
When a soul leaned a body after death, they become dimmer. Vastarael saw this when Indulis died since he watched him die. And this was proof enough that this was actually a curse.
He tried drawing a rune but to his shock, it didn't work.
"Wha..."
He then tried drawing a Heat Rune but it didn't work at all. Then, he tried to write it on the ground using a sapphire spike. Before he could carve a rune in the icy ground...
The spire groaned.
"Vastarael, stop. Whatever you're trying to do will kill us."
Hearing Xander's warning, he immediately stopped. The man's instincts were never wrong. He sighed as he faced the two of them with a smirk.
"Seems that we have no choice but to get inside the spire. But unfortunately, it seems that my runes don't work here. We'll have to kill the Winter Labor—"
"Alright then, let's go."
Vastarael didn't finish his statement when Narisva began walking through the ice and into the entrance of the spire, which was a gigantic wooden door almost twenty meters tall.
Xander patted him on the head and nodded.
"To be honest, as much as I hate you for bringing us here, I can't argue with the fact that we're supposed to kill a Winter Labor. Let's kill that freak."
As the memory unfolded, present Vastarael and Adelasta stood in the corner of the frozen wasteland. Adelasta's gaze followed Narisva, Xander and the memory version of Vastarael as they cautiously approached the colossal wooden gates of the spire.
"So this was the infamous Winter Labyrinth incident," Adelasta murmured. "I've heard rumors, but seeing it... this place feels alive."
Vastarael didn't respond immediately. His eyes were fixed on the memory. The sound of the spire groaning as memory-Vastarael attempted his rune still echoed faintly in his mind, a sound that had unsettled him then and still lingered with him now. Finally, he spoke.
"Alive? Try malevolent. That spire was no innocent bystander. It knew exactly what it was doing. The doors weren't 'slightly open' by accident."
Adelasta raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a small, cold smirk. Seeing this memory still made her feel... weird, like it was happening to her.
"And yet you still went in. Tell me, was it bravery or recklessness? Or was it Narisva dragging you in without a second thought?"
"Why not both? We were out of options. Besides, when Narisva decides something, there's no stopping her. You know how she is."
Adelasta snorted softly, "That woman has no concept of hesitation. I'm surprised she didn't just kick the door down."
His gaze flicked back to the memory, where the younger trio had reached the wooden gates. Narisva, as bold as ever, pushed the door further open with a single shove as a low, echoing creak reverberated through the icy landscape.
Xander, meanwhile, kept one hand on the hilt of his sword, his eyes darting around warily.
The trio was stepping through the massive wooden gates now, their figures swallowed by the ominous darkness beyond. For a moment, neither Vastarael nor Adelasta spoke.
The trio disappeared into the spire's shadowy depths, the door groaning shut behind them with an almost deliberate finality.
"And just like that, the game began."
"Game? It was more like a death sentence."
"Semantics," she replied with a shrug. "But here's the real question. What happened next? Because I'm guessing this wasn't just a stroll through a creepy spire."
He let out a low, bitter laugh. "Oh, you have no idea."
She crossed her arms as she fixed him with a pointed look.
"Well," she said, "then you'd better show me."
"You really want to see it all?"
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Alright, Adelasta. Let's see if you can handle what comes next."
The memory shifted like water ripples.
°°°°°°°
Vastarael was alone.
Ever since he entered the cathedral in the Frozen Ruins, he came to understand that mystical buildings were not easy to bypass so easily.
He summoned a bioluminescent sapphire spike into his palm. Its soft, glowing blue light bloomed into the surrounding void, but it barely pushed back the overwhelming darkness.
Vastarael scanned the room with his eyes, which usually allowed him to see in even the dimmest light. But this place was different. The darkness here was unnatural, something deeper than mere absence of light.
As he moved forward, the sapphire's pale light began to reveal fragments of the room. It was vast—no, massive. The size of the hall left him speechless. He hadn't even realized he was holding his breath as the details slowly came into focus.
The hall resembled a grand ballroom, but it was unlike any he had seen before. The walls stretched endlessly, disappearing into the distant blackness. The ceiling was impossibly high, its arches vanishing into shadows, supported by sleek, reflective pillars that gleamed faintly under the sapphire's glow. Rows of long, elegant tables were arranged throughout the hall, covered in untouched cutlery and dinnerware that looked as pristine as if they had been set just moments ago. Crystal obsidian glasses glinted in the faint light, their delicate shapes perfectly aligned with plates that bore intricate designs Vastarael couldn't make out in the dimness.
A faint, bitter chill hung in the air, making the entire room feel lifeless and eerie. It was as though the place had been waiting, abandoned for eons, and yet nothing was out of place. The perfection of it all was unsettling. He moved closer to one of the tables and noticed the faint layer of frost clinging to the polished silverware.
"This place…"
He turned back, looking toward the massive wooden doors of the spire that still hung open. Beyond them, the frozen wasteland stretched out, but there was no sign of Xander or Narisva. The icy winds from outside didn't seem to dare breach the threshold, leaving the hall untouched by the frost.
"How is this even possible?"
He hadn't seen anything like this on the outside of the spire. It didn't seem physically possible for a room this large to exist inside a structure that, while enormous, still had its spatial limits.
He moved deeper into the hall, the sapphire spike casting faint circles of light around him as he walked. His steps echoed faintly, though they seemed to get lost in the vastness of the space, swallowed up before they could travel far. The eerie stillness of the place made his skin prickle, a faint warning in the back of his mind that he couldn't ignore. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, though no eyes followed him.
The sheer magnitude of the hall was disorienting. Even though he could see the edges of the tables nearest to him, the farthest parts of the room seemed to stretch endlessly, almost like the spire itself had expanded beyond its physical boundaries to accommodate this impossible space. It felt like the hall was deliberately trying to unnerve him, testing his resolve.
Vastarael stopped in his tracks, tightening his grip on the sapphire spike as his golden eyes scanned the darkness.
"Alright. What's your game?"
He took a deep breath and turned to look behind him again, making sure the doors were still open. They were two massive wooden slabs that seemed so out of place compared to the ballroom's grandeur. Yet, beyond them, the frozen wasteland outside remained unchanged.
He sighed, dragging a hand through his damp white curls.
"Alone, huh? Great. Just what I needed."
With that, he started moving again, his eyes darting between the tables and the vast emptiness beyond. His steps were cautious, careful not to disturb the frozen silence that seemed to envelop everything. He couldn't help but wonder:
'Is this hall just an illusion? A trick to disorient me?'
But if it was, it was the most convincing one he'd ever seen.
Finally, after ten minutes of walking, be finally got to the side of the wall in front of him. He walked forward until he got to a wall.
And once again, he saw something he never thought he would ever see again.
Moving murals.
Only this time, they were even massive than the ones in the cathedral in the Frozen Ruins. He had to step back for a few seconds for him to get a full glimpse of it.
Vastarael slowed his steps as his sapphire spike illuminated the wall before him, and his breath hitched when he saw it.
A mural. But not just any mural. This was unlike anything he had ever encountered, even among the strange wonders of the Frozen Ruins.
The mural moved.
"Time for creepy horror stuff..."