N. Francis
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Chapter 141: Labyrinth
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 14:00:16 +0000 UTC“Why! Why so many bugs?” Rory hollered, pumping his arms as he ran as fast as he could.
Now, why was one of the prestigious Founders, people who bordered on divine in the eyes of the average person, running for all he was worth?
That was probably because of the pack of over three hundred level seventy-four scarabs the size of a Prius chasing after him.
“Why!?”
There he had been, meandering his way through the labyrinth, occasionally battling a monster or two, feeling like he was on top of the world, a real sleuth, when he’d found a rather strange room.
It was carved with what looked like smooth stone bumps, covering the walls. Dominating the center of the room had been a statue of a beetle-headed man.
Now, in fairness, that should have raised alarm flags for Rory, who generally liked to think himself genre savvy enough to fall for such an obvious trap.
But, feeling like he was truly prepared for anything, Rory had made the rather foolish choice to walk directly up to the statue and give it a poke.
Then, like a scene out of one of his grandparents’ favorite movies, The Mummy, the stone bumps in the walls suddenly popped off, landing on the ground. Then they had sprouted legs and pincers and started scuttling after him.
Given that he was far beyond a normal human, that hadn’t been enough to faze him. So, he started blasting.
That was mistake number two.
Each scarab killed increased the strength of the rest. Starting as generic beetles, that was far from alarming.
Of course, when you wiped out hundreds in one go, seeing a mundane beetle jump from no level straight to level four was a cause of concern. Rory, for as much as he liked to pride himself on his cognition investment, hadn’t considered that killing a few more wasn’t likely to solve the problem.
The red flag finally went up as the scarabs ballooned in size, now matching the size of small cars. Putting two and two together, Rory initiated his secret family technique.
He ran away.
Not all challenges were meant to be overcome by pure show of force, something Rory had let himself get lazy with. Thus, his current status: running for dear life.
“Why!?” Rory shouted once more, as great stone doors began to slide down from the top of the halls he was traversing, a damn tomb all of a sudden.
Why me?
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Elsewhere
“Aren’t you just the cutest little turtle?” Zoey said as she scratched the small painted turtle under its chin, the small turtle flapping its legs happily.
Zoey had been exploring the labyrinth for some time now, finding it all expansive. During that time, she’d come to realize something.
The immortal turtle was really good with directions. It had started as a joke; Zoey encountered a fork in the path, and unable to decide which way to go, she’d asked the small turtle which way.
Following the direction its head snaked, something she had thought it had done at random, she’d found herself in a room of valuables, and while she hadn’t had a way to bring them along, it had continued like that, endlessly.
Even if she couldn’t bring the treasures with her, just finding them was enough to be inundated with ascension energy as her exploration skill rewarded her for her efforts.
Regarding the labyrinth, Zoey had a new running theory that the planet was the labyrinth and the black boxes atop the desert were merely a method to be directly transported inside the interior of the planet.
Did she have any proof? Nope, but if Rory could make shit up on the spot, Zoey saw no reason why she couldn’t as well.
Thus, with her theory that she was basing on nothing, she’d had the easiest time of her life exploring the labyrinth as the magic turtle led her from treasure to treasure. That said, the turtle wasn’t capable of anything else; it was just an immortal turtle with a fantastic sense of direction. Perhaps if she were someone else, she would have considered using the immortal turtle as a meat shield. Still, Zoey had enough durability that the thought never crossed her mind.
Truthfully, this planet was a blissful experience, and Zoey could only sigh in contentment at her luck.
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Elsewhere, quite some time later.
“Fuck you,” Rory spat, wiping the blood and grime from his face as he quite literally spat on the corpse, standing atop a small mountain of bodies.
Rats. Rats with tentacles. Rats with tentacles that walked on two legs. Rats with tentacles that walked on two legs and were the size of Mike Tyson. Rats with tentacles that walked on two legs and were the size of Mike Tyson, and also whispered children’s songs in a creepy rat voice.
Rory hated this planetoid.
The first time something had gone wrong, he had chalked it up to his stupidity. But when one bad incident bled into the next, constantly keeping him running on high alert, Rory had realized that something was definitely amiss.
Nothing went his way. Nothing. It was as if the universe itself was spitting in his face.
The most recent incident had been caused by the solid floor crumbling beneath him, dropping him into a literal pit of evil tentacle-demon-rats. The only way out? Pile up enough bodies to climb to the top.
Which, given the rats were all level seventy-four? Not exactly easy, especially without the luxury of the living wall that was Zoey.
Rory had been tempted to bust out his secret weapon, but had kept it in reserve, wanting it as undamaged as possible for the floor guardian.
Thus, Rory had been forced to scrap his way through with pure determination and spite for this horrendous planet.
Thankfully, the nearly autonomous boomerang projections had been a new addition to his arsenal that augmented his ability to fight as a frontline fighter as the boomerangs mulched through enemies and kept them from overrunning him.
Once Rory had finally climbed out of his own personal Tartarus, it was less than a day later when a flight of locusts descended from a ceiling far overhead, spewing eroding dust from their bodies as they flung themselves at him.
If there was one good thing about his endless misfortune, it was that he found himself with an endless deluge of monsters and situations to test out new attack methods.
Sure, lightning was great, but what about chain lightning?
Walking away from a lightning-scorched hill of locust bodies, Rory sighed, shaking his head.
Oh God, when will this shit end?
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Elsewhere, an even more extended period later
“This is nice,” Zoey sighed, reclining in the hot springs, the lucky painted turtle floating nearby.
What were the chances of finding a hot spring in a labyrinth inside a desert planetoid? Pretty low.
Which, when being led by the immortal turtle, was essentially a one-hundred percent chance.
“You know, I wonder what Rory is up to?”
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Elsewhere
“Who will I strangle first?” Rory pondered out loud, dragging a heavy maul behind him as a monster attempted to claw away from him, the last one alive of the most recent ambush. “Aelia? Or maybe Eon. Hell, maybe Zoey just for fun.”
The most recent assault had been by a group of level seventy-three ticks, each the size of a rottweiler but with a vaguely human head. Rory had spent so much time being abushed and traps triggering, that he’d been fully expecting an attack after nearly two days of nothing, the longest stretch he’d had since…. Well, since he’d entered the damn labyrinth world. So when the tick-people-monsters had flooded into a large cave from small tunnels jutting off the side, he had already been ready, a geyser of flame erupting from his War Staff.
Oh, that was a new thing he’d begun working on, fire magic. Many of the monsters inside the labyrinth had a small degree of heat resistance, which made them great targets for flexing his imaginative skills. He still wasn’t nearly as skilled with fire as he was with lightning; it was easier for him to imagine ionic pathways than overheated gases for reasons that he chalked up to a personal quirk.
Either way, Rory couldn’t deny that this single planetoid had done more for his skills as a combatant than almost anywhere else over the last few years. The constant pressure from monsters, traps, and general misfortune had been a trial by fire.
Sometimes literally.
Traveling between the planetoids had been far easier in comparison, able to use Earth Soul and the endless comets as ammunition. Here, where the ceilings, walls, and floor were damn near impossible to manipulate directly? Not so much.
Yeah, I should be happy for all this training… or how about no.
The worst part? Rory didn’t even feel like he was making any progress through the labyrinth, as if it did everything it could to turn him back around in endless loops, revisiting old traps which reformed or restocked ambushes with monsters like an endless sewage deluge.
“Not even the decency to give me a nice soundtrack for my training montage,” Rory muttered, feeling like a scene out of a corny boxing movie, constantly doing the dumbest things to grow stronger.
Except in his case, it wasn’t his choice.
It was tiring, but Rory would persevere.
If only so he could strangle somebody after.
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Several months later.
Zoey was beginning to feel like something was off.
Oh, not because she had a sinking feeling of danger or being watched or anything like that.
Nope, the problem was that things were far too easy. Everything fell into her lap way, way too easily, to the point that Zoey realized a problem.
She wasn’t growing. The last few months had been so easy that she hadn’t grown her skills or even gained ascension energy through facing down trials and tribulations. The only reason she hadn’t caught on sooner was that her passive skill, which boosted ascension energy from exploration, was benefiting from the constant treasure she and her immortal turtle companion kept finding.
Oh, Rory would have been so jealous.
With her limited storage capabilities compared to Rory, she’d only kept the most interesting pieces of treasure, natural treasures with interesting effects.
Ruby of Clotted Arteries
Grade: Uncommon
A strange gem with the ability to form blood clots when ingested.
It seemed bizarrely useless to Zoey, but Rory had a blood affinity. So she figured he might find an interesting use for it.
Spigot of Sweet Delights
Grade: Uncommon
A spigot that can be inserted into trees or tree-adjacent plant life to channel sap or other similar substances losslessly and infinitely. Any substances siphoned this way carry a vaguely sweet taste.
Warning: Toxic substances may still be toxic even when sweetened
Another odd item, it was one which Zoey would freely admit she’d kept for rather superficial reasons.
She was a fan of maple syrup, and the item sounded like the key to infinite pseudo maple syrup.
Finally, there was the last treasure she was able to carry, and the only one that she felt was objectively an incredible find.
Pocket-Sized Pocket Void
Grade: Rare
A pocket void that can be fit into the pocket. A concentrated fragment of void that has, against all odds, stabilized rather than being filled via nearby physical space.
It was like a black tennis ball; it even had ‘threading’ white lines that reminded Zoey of dried salt from the ocean. She couldn’t do anything with it, but she wasn’t the one who needed to.
That was for Rory to work his magic –the metaphorical kind– on. While Zoey wasn’t much of a crafter, which is to say she could craft a mean mac and cheese and that was about it, even she could see a perfect use case.
“Mama is finally going to get her own inventory.”
Her immortal turtle companion glanced up at her, looking annoyed at being disturbed from its nap.
“Sorry, little guy,” Zoey said, wincing.
Having as many treasures as she could realistically fit in her bag, which was already holding other important stuff, Zoey began to ponder.
If something is amiss, given I haven’t seen any monsters at all, and I’ve just gotten treasure, what if Mr. Turtle isn’t some amazing luck totem? Maybe I entered a treasure-only area of this labyrinth, and Mr. Turtle is just helping me get around?
If that was the case, then there wasn’t really much of a reason to waste time exploring any longer.
Nodding to herself, she glanced down at the immortal turtle.
“It’s about time we clear this labyrinth.”
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“I’m going to die… because of slugs. Slugs.”
Facing impending death wasn’t high up on Rory’s to-do list. Still, what was even lower than that was facing impending death because omega slugs were going to slurp his gooey insides out.
It wasn’t even a situation that could be overcome with the help of his secret weapon.
He was just fucked.
Because of slugs.
“Really. Slugs. Why slugs?”
Something like two years had passed since he’d first entered the labyrinth, and not one of those days had been good, an endless fight for survival. The early days and weeks had been exceptionally manageable, despite the constant attacks being annoying. But then, over time, the overall level of monsters kept climbing until it had reached the point where Rory was forced to slink around, hiding.
Unfortunately, his luck had run out. Over the last month, a pack of slugs had begun tracking him, slow and endlessly persistent.
Oh, and level seventy-eight. Even one of those would have been enough to kill Rory unless he brought out all the stops.
But fifteen car-sized slugs with trunk-like proboscis that they could shoot out, ending in undulating teeth that would latch down onto prey, the pack of slugs working together to eat prey in probably the most painful way imaginable. Rory had seen them consume a purple colored orangutan with three sets of arms.
Not that all those arms had mattered. Once cornered, their proboscis jaws had latched down onto each of the monkey’s appendages before slowly crawling their way up, the teeth moving and clawing over its arms like primal locomotion.
Completely immobilized, Rory had watched in horror as one of the remaining slugs had latched onto the top of its head with its proboscis.
Eight arms and legs pinned, head slowly being dissolved, until another member of the slug pack stabbed a thinner proboscis into the monkey monster, injecting white stones within its body, which began to bubble and acid as tiny slugs burnt their way out.
Unfortunately, that same fate was looking likely for Rory, who had done his best to escape the determined slugs. Still, eventually, he’d taken a wrong turn, and now he was trapped within the dead end of an empty cave.
A cyanide pill would be nice about now.
It was some dark humor in his situation, but there wasn’t much left to do. The slugs were coming; he could feel their auras closing in.
Really, what a shitty end.
The great Architect, dead to some slugs.
Not much of a story worth telling.
While Rory’s death was essentially guaranteed, he was planning on taking out at least one slug. Level seventy-eight was generally beyond what Rory considered realistic. That was, if one assumed they had a chance of escaping after. Once he had realized there was no shot of escape, he’d been setting up the mother of all booby traps.
Thirty gems.
Ten bound circles.
Eight sets of runic arrays per bound circle.
And one signature weapon on the verge of being sacrificed.
You served me well.
The spear was floating just overhead, as if ready to stab directly downward.
A paradox bomb would have also worked, but there was no way in hell he could stabilize a paradox bomb for long enough to be usable. Once they rounded the corner and saw him, he wouldn’t have long enough to pull it off either.
Therefore, one big hit, and then it was lights out for the tale of Rory the Architect.
Oh, and here come the guests of honor.
While Rory could suppress his aura, the same couldn’t be said for a pack of level seventy-eight slugs. Having caught wind of their prey, they were cruising toward him at a rapid pace, perhaps ten, fifteen seconds at the max before they arrived.
Here we go.
Making peace with what was about to happen, Rory flared his aura, grasping at every dredge of power. At the same time, he clapped his hands together, forming a hand sign almost like a pyramid.
A chant wouldn’t matter here, not with the power he was about to bring down. He had already done enough setup that it would be like adding a single spark to a great inferno.
Instead, Rory focused entirely on the spear floating overhead, waiting for the first unlucky slug that was about to eat an attack that would punch far above his pay grade, something Rory was estimating in the same sort of realm as the paradox bomb, just far more targeted.
Right. Goodbye everyone.
The first slug appeared, a horrible beast that deserved to stay in nightmares and the minds of gore-loving horror directors. Seeing it, Rory shouted in anger, defiance, and mostly, annoyance that he was about to die at the slimy hands of fucking slugs.
“Rhongomyniad!”
Was it a name ripped off from legends of King Arthur?
Sure.
Was it fitting?
The jury was out on that one.
But did it sound cool as hell?
Hell yeah.
As the magic activated, a bunch of things happened at once, first being that all the gathered power, gems, bound circles, and runes, exploded upward in a column of light nearly ten meters across. The light itself did nothing, but as it reached the spear, it seemed to be absorbed, the spear drinking it all in.
In the same instant, the spear changed, like one frame switching to the next; the physical object was gone, replaced by a spear of golden light, shockingly simple, not a single artistic flair anywhere upon it.
After all, why would the absolute concept of a spear need anything as unnecessary as decoration?
More than any single other projection Rory had ever managed in the past, the projection of a concept as the primal concept was something unheard of, like the difference between folding up a paper plane and building a rocket ship.
Like time was frozen, Rory witnessed the golden spear, in awe at the sheer presence. Then the moment of frozen time ended, and the spear vanished, moving with such speed that even Rory’s cognition couldn’t keep track.
In its place was the level seventy-eight slug, split in two and dead as a doorknob.
Hah. Got one.
His goal accomplished, Rory would go to his death knowing that-
Oh Zoey, you beautiful bitch.
Several proboscis tipped with vicious-looking teeth shot forward, only to find no purchase as the cornered man vanished, the only sign that he had ever been there a few sparks of blue energy that vanished a moment later.
Objective Cleared: Survive the Gomorrahian Labyrinth for as long as possible.
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If you're curious about that last attack from Rory, all I will say is that it is what happens when the process of creating a rune meets projection magic.
