[ Weicheng's POV ]
The fourth level of the Night Pavilion was an absolute void of suffocating, narrow shadows. In the forbidden texts, this specific floor was simply referred to as the Crucible of the Mind—or more practically, the "Riddle or Die" threshold.
Ancient mountain legends dictated that this level was a brutal, uncompromising do-or-die scenario. Throughout centuries of desperate trespassers, no one had ever successfully parsed the answers entirely. The architecture's unseen Riddle Master was rumored to be as ruthless, strict, and unyielding as the most tyrannical monarch to ever claim a throne. He was so fiercely skillful that he didn't even need to draw a blade to execute a vanguard; he would simply let the ticking clock bleed his victims dry, or watch them self-destruct over a single misplaced syllable.
The mechanics were terrifyingly simple: a failure to provide the correct answer within a strict, thirty-second window would guarantee the challenger was violently thrown from the high tower windows by an invisible force. To pass, we had to answer five consecutive riddles without a single mistake. A solitary incorrect guess would instantly default all prior wins, reset the mechanisms, and ensure our total execution.
I cast a frantic glance at Lady Suan Ming's wrist, my stomach dropping into a cold knot. "We have precisely sixteen minutes left," I announced, my voice carrying a sharp, ragged edge. The sheer, immense pressure of the ticking clock was actively taking a heavy toll on our collective focus.
Taking a deep, stabilizing breath to clear the lingering fog of the previous hallucinations from my mind, I surveyed the darkened chamber. I raised my voice, letting it ring against the invisible walls. "Let us begin."
A heavy, incredibly deep voice materialized out of the absolute nothingness, the sound vibrating through the floorboards and sending an icy shiver straight down our spines. The unseen entity let out a low, sinister laugh that echoed mockingly from the corners of the ceiling.
"Ahem, ahem," the voice started, entirely unbothered by the collective rolling of eyes he received from the challengers below. "Welcome to the final round, imperial travelers. You may either enjoy the hospitality of my court... or die right where you stand."
Tae Hua smirked, his posture shifting into a defensive stance as he leaned heavily on his sarcastic instincts. "You will probably find yourself deeply embarrassed after this round, old ghost."
Eun Jo immediately stepped forward, his hand snapping onto Tae Hua's shoulder to arrest his momentum as a dry, sarcastic sneer echoed back through the shadows. "Stop provoking him," Eun Jo muttered under his breath. "We do not have the luxury of time."
"You all should answer my riddles with absolute perfection," the voice hissed, the temperature in the room dropping noticeably, "or I will kill you in a single snap, dragging all your lifeless bodies to be thrown into the wild forest before the full moon even sets tonight."
I couldn't hide my mounting, fierce annoyance a second longer. "Just give us the first riddle."
The illumination in the chamber violently shifted, cascading into a series of brilliant, multi-colored lights that swirled across the walls like a frantic light show. "First riddle," the voice boomed, followed by a nerve-wracking, concussive acoustic beat that halted abruptly within seconds.
"The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"
Without a single drop of hesitation, Eun Jo blurted out the answer nonchalantly. "Footsteps."
Tae Hua and I both turned our heads to look at him, completely surprised by his instantaneous calculation. Eun Jo simply shrugged his shoulders in return, his expression entirely flat. A crisp, metallic DING of a bell resonated through the rafters, indicating that our first answer had been formally accepted by the matrix.
"That was basically easy," the voice sneered proudly, letting out a dismissive laugh. "No one of any real intelligence has ever answered that specific query wrong previously. Let us see how you handle the depth."
"Next," I called out, my ears straining to catch every syllable as the deep voice resumed its rhythmic cadence.
"I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but come alive with the wind. What am I?"
The sudden silence in the room was deafening, the invisible timer beginning to pulse against our temples. From some distant, outside perimeter beyond the high windows, the faint, rhythmic chirping of mountain crickets filtered through the air. Crickets, I analyzed rapidly inside my own head, my thoughts racing to deconstruct the puzzle. Crickets are far away from this landlocked tower, yet without a physical body or soul present in this room, we can hear them... loud and clear.
I opened my mouth, about to voice my conclusion, when Lady Suan Ming suddenly answered on my behalf. It was as if she had cleanly read the exact trajectory of my mind the moment the clock ticked down to its final, desperate seconds.
"An echo," she stated firmly.
We stood perfectly frozen, holding our breaths as we waited for the corresponding ring to validate her claim. A heartbeat later, the sharp bell chimed again. I let out a long, shuddering breath, and we exchanged a quick, relieved smile, finding a momentary pocket of peace amidst the high stakes.
But our reprieve was brutally short. We had roughly ten minutes left before the final, fatal flower petal would manifest on her skin. I could see the agonizing, raw pain radiating through Lady Suan Ming's blind eyes; her spiritual core was actively being torn from her physical body by the terms of the contract. Through the slit windows, the cold light of the full moon illuminated the stone floor, a grim reminder of our boundary.
"What is the beginning of eternity," the voice dropped into a slow, deliberate drone, "and the end of time, is in every race, but is always on the line?"
I tightly closed my eyes, manually separating each individual word to analyze the structure. This wasn't a philosophical riddle—it was a literal word puzzle. The beginning of the word eternity, the end of the word time, the central focus of a race...
"The letter E," I answered clearly.
We spewed a deep, collective sigh of absolute relief when the bell chimed for the third time. The invisible entity let out a sharp gasp, his voice immediately stuttering as he rushed into his next question, his composure noticeably fracturing.
"Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show we always will meet. Try as you might to guess my name, I promise you'll know when I do claim. Who am I?"
"Death," Tae Hua answered flatly, his voice devoid of any fear.
We heard the voice hiss in pure, unadulterated anger from the ceiling. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to forcefully hide my sudden urge to laugh. This unseen riddle master undeniably possessed the absolute shortest temper of any magical entity I had ever encountered.
"Only one color, but not one size," the voice snarled, pushing the pace aggressively. "Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies; present in the sun, but not in the rain; doing no harm, and feeling no pain."
I could scarcely believe this was supposed to be a legendary barrier riddle. I had parsed this exact exact phrasing winters ago in the mountains. Before I could even formulate the breath, Tae Hua answered with smooth, arrogant precision.
"A shadow."
The bell rang out for the fifth time, its clear tone echoing through the chamber. The heavy stone blocks forming the far wall began to recede, exposing a narrow, spiral staircase that mounted toward the apex. We immediately shifted our weight to climb the steps, but the voice suddenly erupted into an enraged, hoarse roar that shook the very dust from the pillars.
"Who exactly told you I would let you all pass?!" he barked, his spectral presence violently constricting the air pressure around the landing.
We only had three minutes remaining on the master clock. Beside me, Lady Suan Ming was searing in absolute, blinding pain, her knees buckling against the strain.
"What exactly do you mean by this?!" I replied, my voice escalating into complete, exasperated fury as I rounded on the empty air. "We answered every single one of your conditions perfectly!"
The entity laughed maliciously, the sound dripping with deceit. "This is the final riddle round, mortal. The last question is entirely detrimental to your final results."
Tae Hua and Eun Jo, who were actively supporting Lady Suan Ming's fragile frame between their shoulders, simultaneously rolled their eyes. They ignored the voice entirely, continuing their steady ascension up the stone steps. They were clearly not here to play games with a petulant spirit; the sudden, arbitrary rule changes were triggering an intense inner conflict within our ranks.
"One more step," the voice threatened, a violent hum of killing intent charging the atmosphere, "and you shall all end up dead on these stones."
I watched as Tae Hua's knuckles turned white, his fingers aggressively drawing his jade sword from its scabbard, entirely ready to mount a lethal offensive strike against the empty space. Acting on pure instinct, I lunged forward, planting my body in the middle of the narrow staircase to physically stop his advance.
I looked directly into his eyes. For a split second, his gaze felt like an absolute abyss—cold, detached, and entirely consumed by royal wrath. I couldn't find the man I knew through that dark stare, so I closed my own eyes, taking a deep, stabilizing breath to anchor us both.
"Please," I whispered, the word causing his brow to crease in deep, startled confusion. "Let him finish the final riddle, and we will act immediately afterward. We have less than two minutes left."
The unseen voice let out a smug, wet cough, and Tae Hua slowly lowered his blade, the two of us separating our gazes and looking away. I could practically feel the entity smiling from whatever hidden alcove he was hiding in, completely convinced he had won.
I let out a quiet, internal smirk. I cannot let him win this using such dirty, underhanded methods. We have to completely over-smart him. I would never accept a tactical defeat from a broken contract.
"I look flat, but I am extraordinarily deep," the voice chanted, its tone dripping with satisfaction. "Hidden realms I shelter. Lives I take, but the food I offer. At times I am beautiful. I can be calm, angry, and turbulent. I have no heart, but offer pleasure as well as absolute death. No man can ever own me, yet I encompass what all men must have."
The entity stopped for a theatrical moment, allowing the silence to stretch before delivering the final strike.
"What am I?"
I breathed deeply, shutting out the physical world as I forced my mind to map the parameters of the words. In the background, the heavy, rhythmic ticking of the tower clock felt like a hammer against my skull, synchronized with the ragged, searing gasps of Lady Suan Ming's fading life. I felt entirely out of breath, the individual letters of the puzzle slowly mixing and swirling inside my head like a violent vortex. I kept my eyes closed.
Suddenly, a rush of raw, suffocating emotion flooded my chest. I imagined myself stuck beneath a freezing, crushing weight—unable to move, unable to claw my way to the surface, completely unable to draw a single breath of fresh air.
I finally realized the trick. The answer to the riddle was the exact physical manifestation of my own greatest, hidden fear.
My eyelids snapped open. I saw Tae Hua and Eun Jo still locked in deep, analytical thought, their minds searching through tactical military terms. I looked past them, a genuine grin spreading across my face as I uttered the single word.
"The ocean."
The timer had precisely fifteen seconds remaining.
The entity gasped, a sharp, choked sound echoing through the rafters as the magical pressure instantly evaporated from the staircase.
"No need for any congratulatory remarks," I barked toward the ceiling.
Without wasting a single microsecond of our remaining time, I didn't hesitate; I aggressively seized Lady Suan Ming's uninjured arm, slinging her weight against my frame as we ran up the final flight of steps until our boots cleared the threshold of the top floor. Far below us, the crisp, resonant ring of the bell chimed one last time, confirming the absolute accuracy of my guess.
Behind us, the hurried, heavy footsteps of Tae Hua and Eun Jo followed in a dead sprint. The moment the four of us completely cleared the landing, we all dropped heavily to the ground, our breath catching in our throats as our eyes took in the most surreal, impossible sight.
When I forced my eyes open, the stone walls of the Night Pavilion were completely gone.
We were standing in the middle of a vast, infinite galaxy. There was no floor, no ceiling—only the deep, breathtaking expanse of whatever celestial astronomy called the stars' natural habitat. We were completely surrounded by millions of swirling, brilliant nebulae and glowing constellations that pulsed with cosmic life.
"Are you truly enjoying the beauty of the universe?" a new, smooth voice resonated from the starlight.
Suddenly, with a single wave of invisible energy, the brilliant stars violently turned to grey ashes, collapsing into the void.
An illusion?
"Yes... it is nothing but a grand illusion," the voice confirmed softly.
From the shadows of the fading starlight, a tall, enigmatic figure materialized. "Suan Ming... you have brought such remarkably distinguished guests to my domain."
I didn't even bother to look up at the speaker. My hands immediately flew to Lady Suan Ming's right forearm, aggressively peeling back the torn crimson silk of her sleeve to inspect the damage.
Our collective gaze locked onto her flesh. The fierce, burning red light of the third fire flower petal was slowly, steadily beginning to fade, the blistered skin cooling down until the mark turned into a harmless, dark grey scar. The fourth leaf had never formed.
We had made it. We had officially conquered the Night Pavilion, and we were standing at the absolute top.