Forbidden Region

by Michael Sisa

  It’d had been several days since the Scylla destroyed the elven oaks surrounding the statue, but the human still hadn’t come out regardless. If not for the trace of mana coming from inside the statue, the Scylla would have believed the human dead by now.

  The Scylla could feel it.

  The faint amount of mana that had started growing as days went by.

  The Scylla didn’t know what kind of method the human was using inside the treasure room, but one thing was for sure: the human’s mana pool was growing exponentially by each passing day. The intruder’s growth was so absurd that, for a moment, the Scylla questioned whether that man was really human.

  Was it really possible for a human to grow this much in mere days? As a creature proficient in magic, the Scylla could clearly see the flow of mana coming from inside the treasure room. From an almost dried-up well, the man’s mana pool had now become a small river.

  After ten days, the statue’s mouth finally opened and the human came out.

  He stood right in front of the statue’s entrance and said, “Hey, lizard. I have several questions for you.”

  The human seemed like an entirely different person than before. When the human first appeared on this floor, the Scylla was absolutely certain that he did not have the power to kill it. But now, the Scylla felt the human threatening, as though it was currently facing a dragon.

  All thoughts of immediately attacking the human vanished in an instant. The Scylla looked at the human standing on the statue’s mouth warily.

  “Get off the statue first,” snarled the Scylla’s first head. “You’ve tainted this sacred ground enough. Have some shame, human.”

  All seven heads snorted in agreement.

  Lark shrugged. “Alright.”

  Lark cast flight magic and slowly hovered closer to the Scylla. Even when some of the heads gave signs of trying to bite his head off his body, he didn’t stop until he was only a few meters away from the seven-headed monster.

  “I’ve left the statue,” Lark said leisurely. “Now, let me ask my questions.”

  The seven heads looked at each other. The third head, who wanted to initiate conversation with the human before, answered, “We always keep our promises. Ask, human.”

  “Three questions,” said Lark. “First, how did Kubarkava convince a monster as strong as you to guard this statue for several generations?”

  All of the Scylla’s heads were bewildered upon hearing the first question. After a thousand years, this was the first time they’d heard the name of their master come out of a human’s mouth.

  The flesh-eating poison and the poisonous monsters guarding the ruins were dead giveaways that this place was created by the God of Poison—Qeurvanu himself. But people weren’t aware that creating this labyrinth wouldn’t have been possible without the help of the Dragon Devourer. They wouldn’t know this, unless they could perfectly decipher the murals drawn on the first floor of the labyrinth.

  Now that they thought of it, this human could speak draconian language too. It wouldn’t be far-fetched if he was also proficient in the Magic Empire’s language.

  But their astonishment didn’t stop there. The human’s next questions also stunned the Scylla.

  “Second, what happened to those kids—Kubarkava and Qeurvanu? This labyrinth feels like a perfect place to conduct the Ritual of the Underworld. Did those two brats perform it here? Tell me what happened,” said Lark. “And lastly, do you know what kind of treasure is being stored in that statue?”

  Lark snapped his fingers and the bracer he was wearing immediately transformed into a beautiful, translucent sword. Lark grabbed its hilt. “Are you familiar with this sword?”

  There was momentary silence as the Scylla stared at the sword.

  “T-The Sword of Morpheus!”

  “But how did the human activate it?”

  “A strong spell should have been protecting it from thieves!”

  As a creature proficient in magic, the Scylla held no doubt that the sword Lark was holding was the real thing.

  The Scylla couldn’t understand how the human managed to obtain it, moreover activate the sword. It’s master—the Dragon Devourer—had told the Scylla that in order to activate the sword, you needed to apply mana in an extremely complex, predetermined direction. Even their master wasn’t able to activate that sword.

  But the human did it. In mere days too.

  “G-Give it back!” snarled the fifth head, clearly flustered. “You dare steal the treasured sword of our master?”

  Lark chuckled. “Give it back? Why should I? It was mine to begin with. Your master simply stored it in that giant statue for safekeeping.”

  As though proving that his words were true, Lark activated the mana stored inside the sword’s blade and made a slash to his left. A colossal wind blade shot out of the sword and cleaved the ground, creating a hundred-meter long ravine.

  After hearing Lark’s words and after seeing how he easily wielded the legendary sword, the Scylla shuddered. It remembered the words spoken by its master before his death.

  Blackie, listen. I don’t believe that Master Evander is truly dead. He’ll come back to us once again, someday, definitely.

  Although more than a thousand years had passed, the Scylla could still vividly remember the mischievous grin of the Dragon Devourer as he told the Scylla stories about his master.

  And when that day finally comes, please tell my master this—‘Welcome back. I believed you would come back to us eventually, Master Evander.’

  The first head, who’d wanted to kill Lark the most before, softly muttered, “Only one person should be able to wield that sword.”

  The predetermined flow of mana carved in the sword was so complex and easily encompassed several dozens of layers of magic formation. Only the sword’s creator should know how to activate it.

  The ability to exponentially expand his mana pool in mere days. The ability to wield the legendary sword. There was no longer any room for doubt.

  The Scylla curled its tail, bent its knees, and bowed all of its seven heads.

  All seven heads said in unison, “You’ve finally come back to us, God Evander!”

  It was a surreal sight.

  A fifty-meter long, seven-headed monster bowing down to a mere human.

  VOLUME 6: CHAPTER 9

  After realizing Lark’s real identity, all malice and hatred within the Scylla vanished entirely. It did not even dare look the human in the eye anymore and simply bowed all of its heads subserviently.

  After a few minutes of silence, Lark realized that the seven-headed monster wouldn’t move or speak unless he stated otherwise. For a moment, it felt as though he was dealing with another Anandra.

  “Lizard,” said Lark.

  “Yes, my God.”

  Lark furrowed his brows. “I’m just a human. Just call me Lark—or human—anything is fine.”

  “As you wish, God Evander.”

  A groan almost escaped Lark’s mouth. He should have known from the way the Scylla refused to leave the statue—this creature was amazingly stubborn.

  Lark sighed. “The questions I asked you before. My two disciples. What happened to them? And why is a Scylla guarding this place?”

  The heads peeked at each other. The first head replied, “Masters Kubarkava and Qeurvanu are dead. God Evander is right in his previous assumptions. Indeed, this was the place where they conducted the Ritual of the Underworld. The two successfully opened a rift, but perished moments after opening it. The massive amounts of miasma from the rift devoured their physical bodies.”

  The Ritual of the Underworld.

  It was among the rituals Lark studied thoroughly in his previous life. If the Ritual of the Immortal was capable of prolonging a mortal’s life, the Ritual of the Underworld was said to be capable of bringing the dead back to life.

  It was ironic, Lark thought, that both he and his two disciples died from these forbidden rituals.

  “They successfully op
ened a rift?” said Lark. It was an amazing feat.

  “Yes, my God.”

  Lark fell silent for a moment. If those two managed to open a rift to the underworld, then that thing should be present in this dungeon.

  “The place where they conducted the ritual,” said Lark. “Lead me to it.”

  “Gladly!”

  The Scylla raised its heads and opened its wings. Its expectant gaze was a dead giveaway that it wanted Lark to ride on top of it. And to think that the monster was cussing at him just moments ago. But now, it was even wagging its tail like an excited puppy.

  Lark jumped on top of its body. For a moment, the Scylla shuddered from euphoria. It flapped its wings, flew up near the ceiling, and shot toward the opposite direction of the lake. It did not even take a full minute before it landed on the ground.

  “This used to be where the shrine was located,” said the Scylla.

  In front of them was a gigantic hole on the ground. It was so deep that when Lark kicked a large stone into it, it took almost a minute before he heard the sound of the stone hitting something.

  This was definitely the hole Lady Ropianna had mentioned. The place where the expedition team had found the Scylla sleeping.

  “After the ritual failed, the rift swallowed everything in this place. The shrine, Master Kubarkava, the God of Poison.”

  There was a trace of longing within those words.

  “If only we had been beside the master back then,” said the Scylla. “Our body is far stronger than humans. We definitely could have absorbed the rift’s impact.”

  Judging by the size of the hole, Lark doubted if the Scylla would have made any difference. Miasma formed from the rift between this plane and the underworld was vastly different from magic. The Scylla would have probably perished along with his two disciples if it was near the shrine during the ritual.

  Lark looked at the Scylla and decided to keep those thoughts to himself.

  Lark said, “They built the shrine on top of a dragon vein.”

  “As expected of God Evander,” said the Scylla, “you are correct.”

  Deep within the hole, Lark could feel a familiar sensation. Massive amounts of mana were flowing underneath this floor of the labyrinth. Unlike ambient mana, the mana underneath felt ‘extremely solid’—clumps of dense mana flowing in a single direction. There was no doubt that this was part of the dragon vein below. The source of all mana in this world.

  The royal court magicians didn’t notice this before, since they’d been too preoccupied discovering the Scylla sleeping inside the hole.

  “I’ll be gone for a while,” said Lark.

  Without another word, he jumped into the hole and disappeared from sight.

  Lark used flight magic to land softly on the ground. He saw another hole, around the size of two carriages combined, in front of him. The familiar sensation was coming from within this smaller hole. If Lark jumped inside this one, he’d probably reach the dragon vein below.

  “What a treasure trove.” Lark grinned broadly.

  He raised the Sword of Morpheus, activated it, and stabbed it in the ground. In mere seconds, a dense river of mana gushed out of the small hole and was sucked in by the Sword of Morpheus.

  Lark was really pleased to find a dragon vein—and right after regaining his sword at that. He planned on filling the sword to its utmost mana capacity before he went back to Blackstone Town.

  For several minutes, the sword continued sucking in the mana from the dragon vein. The translucent sword was becoming opaque as time went by. Eventually, when it reached its full mana capacity, it became a white sword.

  Lark grabbed the sword and willed it to stop absorbing the mana from the dragon vein below. Like slime, the sword slowly changed its shape and latched on to Lark’s arm, before turning into a bracer.

  Using flight magic, Lark left the hole. He noticed the Scylla looking at him with eyes filled with admiration.

  Lark had made the Sword of Morpheus taking the limited mana capacity of humans into consideration. One could say that it was similar to the cores of demons and dragons in its ability to store mana. Although replenishing the sword’s mana was a simple task, the Scylla looked at Lark as though what he had done was no ordinary feat.

  Lark ignored the Scylla’s awe-filled gaze and asked, “Ah, you haven’t answered my other question: Why a creature like you is guarding the treasure on this floor?”

  The Scylla broke out of its trance.

  It answered, “The reason is simple, God Evander. It’s to repay a debt.”

  Lark hadn’t expected this answer. He thought that the monster was bound by a pact and was forced to guard this floor of the labyrinth.

  “To repay a debt?” said Lark.

  The first head nodded. “That’s right. Our tribe—the Earth Scyllas—were on the brink of extinction over a thousand years ago. You’re probably already aware of this… our kind had been in constant strife with the Gryphons of Marut.”

  It was a well-known fact that Gryphons frequently hunted Scyllas for their meat. The fact that the Scyllas resembled serpents probably contributed to this.

  Although Scyllas were considered mythical monsters, they were helpless against the Gryphons. The Gryphons were impervious to most spells and their claws could easily penetrate the scales of the Scyllas.

  The Scylla started recounting the story.

  It seemed that after Kubarkava slaughtered several dragons from the Frost Mountains of Yleonor, he went straight to the monster-infested region of Marut in search for more items and the ingredients needed for a certain ritual.

  To the Earth Scyllas’ luck, one of the ingredients he needed for the ritual was the corpse of a Gryphon.

  One event led to another. After killing one Gryphon, his stupid disciple ended up slaughtering an entire nest. Although Kubarkava did not really intend on saving the Earth Scyllas, it was an indisputable fact that, if not for him, their tribe would have gone extinct.

  “So basically, you’re the child of the leader of your tribe,” Lark summed up the story. “And you were offered to that idiotic disciple of mine as thanks for saving the tribe.”

  The Scylla nodded its heads.

  Lark furrowed his brow. This Scylla was already old. It had used up almost all of its life protecting this floor. It probably only had a few centuries left to live at most.

  “I don’t understand,” said Lark. “You keep calling him master, when in fact, you were just a sacrificial lamb given to him by your tribe.”

  The words of Lark were unforgiving, but it seemed that the Scylla did not mind.

  “We know,” said the third head. “But coincidence or not, it still doesn’t change the fact that he saved our tribe from extinction. Our master’s only request was for us to guard this floor. A simple task in exchange for saving so many of our kin.”

  This response left a bad aftertaste in Lark’s mouth. If Kubarkava was here, he would have smacked the kid’s head onto the ground.

  “And although the time we spent with the master was short, it was the most enjoyable of our lives. We frequently heard stories about you, God Evander. Stories of how you single-handedly repelled the demon lord’s army. Stories of how you suppressed a tribe of dragons on your own. Feats only a God could achieve,” said the first head.

  “Ever since then, we’ve been looking forward to meeting you someday,” said the fifth head. “The master and the poison brat were certain that you’d be back. Although they didn’t mention when.”

  “And they were right!” The seventh head laughed.

  Lark fell silent for a moment. He asked slowly, “What would you have done if the owner of the sword didn’t come? If I had never arrived in this floor during your lifespan?”

  Although Lark couldn’t fully comprehend the facial expressions of monsters, he was sure that all of the Scylla’s heads were smiling right now.

  “We’d use all of our remaining mana and lifeforce to create a barrier to protect this floor,” said
the Scylla. “Dying while protecting the treasures would have been the highest honor.”

  Dedicated to their task until the end.

  Lark was starting to like this monster.

  He sighed then smiled. “I live in a small town far from here. Want to come with me?”

  The Scylla wagged its tail. “Of course!” it said eagerly. “A town? Not a city, but a town?”

  It probably could not comprehend why its God was living in such a cramped place.

  “It’s called Blackstone Town.” Lark chuckled after seeing the Scylla’s tail wagging once again. “If you let me ride on your back, we could probably reach it in a single day.”

  The first head immediately spat, “Of course! You can ride us all you want!”

  “Great.” Lark grinned. He looked at the statue. “But first, we need a way to transport all of the treasure back with us. A way for all of us to leave this labyrinth.”

  The first head snorted. “Leave it to us! We know a way out!”

  The other heads nodded in agreement.

  Lark was expecting a hidden path or something similar, but it seemed that the Scylla’s ‘way out’ was far simpler than that.

  Without warning, all seven heads looked up, opened their mouths, and started gathering vast amounts of mana in their mouth. Lark was stupefied upon realizing that they planned on boring a hole through the labyrinth using a breath attack.

  Before Lark could utter a word to stop them, all seven heads fired their spells. Beams of light shot out of their mouths and struck the ceiling above. Several violent explosions and shockwaves shook the entire labyrinth. Large rocks and dust fell down as the ground continued rumbling.

  After the dust receded, there was a large hole in the ceiling.

  The Scylla started gathering energy in their mouths once again, ready to fire several more spells to bore a way out of the labyrinth.

  Lark pondered if he should stop the creature from destroying the place. In the end, he decided that this was probably the best method they had. The giant statue was made of gold, and Lark had no intention of leaving it here alone in the labyrinth.