They climbed for thirty minutes.

The staircase never widened into comfort. It stayed narrow and steep, carved from the same stone as the corridors below, with shallow steps worn down by time. The air changed as they went, less damp, less heavy. The mana pressure eased, too, like the labyrinth’s grip was loosening the farther they got from the drowned chamber.

Viola’s lungs burned by the end of it, not from lack of air but from the simple fact that her body had been running on adrenaline and excitement for too long. Luna climbed without a sound, but even she had that tight, controlled tension in her shoulders that meant she was counting every breath.

Ludger didn’t speak. He just kept moving, senses stretched outward, feeling for anything waiting above. Then the light ahead stopped being “faint.” It became real. Natural.

They reached a cracked archway half-swallowed by roots, and beyond it, open sky.

They stepped out.

The outside world hit them like a quiet slap. Not wind. Not salt. Not surf. Forest.

A canopy of dense green stretched overhead, sunlight stabbing through gaps in the leaves in bright, angled shafts. Vines draped across broken stonework, and moss carpeted everything that didn’t move. The ground was uneven, layered with old rubble and thick roots that had claimed the ruins piece by piece.

They weren’t standing in the wilderness.

They were standing in the remains of a civilization.

Half-collapsed walls rose between trees like ribs. Carved pillars lay snapped and scattered, their rune-like markings faded under lichen and time. A shattered plaza was visible through the brush, stone tiles cracked and lifted by roots, a circle pattern barely recognizable beneath decades of growth. Statues, worn down to featureless silhouettes, leaned at odd angles as if the forest had slowly pushed them into surrender.

The whole place felt old.

Old in a way that didn’t match the Empire’s history. Ludger stopped and inhaled. Then frowned. No ocean. Not even a hint of it.

Back at the labyrinth entrance, the air had always carried salt, seaweed, and that constant wet-metal smell of docks and tide. Here there was only earth, damp leaves, and the faint sweetness of sap.

They were nowhere near the coast.

Which meant the rumor wasn’t just true.

It was worse. The labyrinth hadn’t led them to another corridor on the same island. It had led them to an entirely different land.

Ludger’s eyes swept the treeline, then the ruins, then the direction of the sun.

Viola whispered, almost reverent, “Where… are we?”

Luna didn’t answer. She was already scanning for tracks.

Ludger’s expression stayed calm, but something sharpened behind his eyes. Then he stepped forward into the forest-covered ruins. Because the search wasn’t over. It had just moved to the other side.

Luna stopped abruptly and lifted her hand.

She pointed into the trees without a word.

Viola’s gaze followed the line of her finger, and at first she saw nothing but brush and shadow, until the light caught something unnatural on the ground. A circle of stones. Charred wood. Ash scattered across cracked tiles.

The remains of a campfire.

They moved toward it carefully, stepping over roots and broken masonry. The forest had tried to reclaim it, but not fast enough to erase the signs. Someone had cleared a small space, stacked stones with deliberate care, and burned wood that didn’t belong to this ruin.

Luna crouched first.

She brushed ash between her fingers, sniffed it once, then checked the blackened ends of half-burned branches.

“Few days,” she said. “Not older than a week.”

Viola exhaled, relief and tension mixing in her chest.

“So he’s here,” she murmured.

Her eyes moved over the scene again, how neat it was, how intentional. Then she frowned.

“It looks like Lucius didn’t waste time with the guardian,” she said. “He probably didn’t fight it at all.”

Ludger didn’t disagree.

If Lucius had found a way to cross without combat, it fit everything they’d knew about him, careful, strategic, obsessed with outcomes rather than glory. Ludger’s gaze lifted from the ash and swept the surrounding forest.

“Smell anything?” he asked.

Luna inhaled slowly, then closed her eyes for a brief moment, listening to the world the way an assassin did.

“I can’t sense danger,” she said. “Nothing immediate. No predators close. No people moving nearby.”

Viola tightened her grip on her sword anyway. Because “no danger” didn’t mean safe. It just meant whatever threat existed hadn’t revealed itself yet.

Ludger straightened, eyes narrowing toward the direction the campfire seemed to face, like whoever made it had been watching the same path they were about to take.

Ludger stood over the cold campfire for a moment longer, eyes drifting across the ruined plaza beyond the trees.

Should we split?

It was the obvious move if they wanted to cover ground quickly. Three sets of eyes. Three different skill sets. Three routes through the ruins.

But it was also the obvious way to get someone killed in a place they didn’t understand.

He let Seismic Sense brush outward again, light, shallow, careful. Just enough to map the immediate terrain without spending real mana. The ruins responded with familiar shapes: broken stone, buried corridors, hollow pockets where old chambers had collapsed and filled with soil.

No movement. No footsteps. No bodies.

No anomalies that suggested recent digging, dragged weight, or a living presence hiding behind the walls. Nothing. Which either meant Lucius wasn’t nearby… Or that whatever was nearby didn’t register like a normal person.

Ludger kept his breathing steady and retracted the sense. He wasn’t willing to pour mana into wide-range scans yet. Not on this side. Not when he still needed to recover and be ready for whatever lived beyond the labyrinth’s rules.

Viola watched him, reading his silence like she’d learned to. Luna remained half-turned, eyes still tracking the treeline.

“If he isn’t here,” Ludger said quietly, mostly to himself, “then he didn’t find what he was looking for in these ruins.”

Or he found it and moved on. He looked up at the overgrown stonework and the shattered statues swallowed by vines.

“Splitting covers ground,” he continued, voice calm. “But it also makes us blind.”

Viola frowned. “You’re thinking about it anyway.”

“Yes.”

Luna didn’t comment, but her posture tightened slightly, she’d heard the same thought and was already weighing the risk. Ludger’s eyes narrowed.

“We don’t split far,” he decided. “Not yet. We move together until we learn how this place behaves. Then we can widen our net.”

He glanced once more at the campfire, memorizing the angle of the stones, the direction the ash had been scattered, the way the ground had been cleared.

“Let’s follow the simplest trail first,” he said. “If Lucius left here a few days ago, he went somewhere with purpose.”

And if that purpose was still alive… It would leave more traces than a campfire.

They stayed together.

They moved through the ruins in a slow, widening loop, checking every angle that looked even remotely promising. Broken archways swallowed by vines. Collapsed halls half-filled with soil. Courtyards where moss had grown thick enough to hide footprints, if any had ever been there.

There were buildings, yes.

Old ones.

Stone shells with carved patterns that didn’t match any imperial style, their walls cracked and leaning, roofs caved in under centuries of rain and roots. Trees had grown through windows. Vines hung like curtains. Whole corridors were choked with vegetation so dense it looked like the forest had decided to build its own walls inside the ruins.

But there was nothing else.

No fresh ash beyond the campfire they’d already found. No discarded gear. No signs of a path. No blood. No cloth scraps caught on thorns. No recent disturbances in the soil that suggested someone had dug or dragged something heavy.

Even Ludger’s Seismic Sense, used sparingly, just enough to check for obvious underground movement, returned nothing but dead stone and empty pockets.

After another stretch of fruitless searching, Ludger exhaled and sighed.

He lifted his head and looked up through the canopy. The sun was setting.

Light slanted low between the trees, turning leaves gold at the edges and painting the broken pillars in long, dark stripes. The forest sound changed with it, birds settling, insects beginning their evening rhythm.

Ludger stared for a beat longer than necessary.

Then his brow furrowed.

He did the math automatically, distance, time, the pace of their exploration, how long they’d rested, how long they’d fought.

On the other side of the labyrinth, back at the coast… it should have been close to sunrise. Not sunset.

Viola noticed his expression. “What’s wrong?”

Ludger kept his gaze on the sky for another moment, as if he could force the answer out of it.

Then he shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said.

But his tone didn’t match the word. He turned away from the setting sun and started walking again, the weight of the realization settling quietly in the back of his mind.

Because if the time didn’t match… Then the labyrinth hadn’t just moved them through space. It had done something else, too.

Ludger slowed and finally stopped near the remains of a toppled wall that formed a natural shelter against the wind.

“We’ll rest,” he said. “For the night.”

Viola glanced around at the forest and the ruins, still tense. “Here?”

“Yes,” Ludger replied. “We’ve covered enough ground for today, and we’re not moving blind in the dark.”

He pointed toward the surrounding trees. “There are plenty of fruits around. Food won’t be a problem.”

Luna didn’t argue. She was already scanning the area for sightlines and choke points, mapping where an ambush would come from if someone tried.

“We’ll sleep in turns,” Ludger continued. “One awake at all times.”

Viola nodded reluctantly.

Ludger stepped away from the broken wall and lifted a hand. Wind gathered around his palm, tight and controlled. He swung it once, and a nearby dead branch snapped cleanly as if struck by an invisible blade. He repeated the motion, chopping several pieces into manageable lengths without needing an axe.

The wood dropped in neat piles. Then he crouched, gathered the driest pieces, and stacked them. A small, efficient fire structure.

He pointed his finger and used magic.

Tinder.

A spark bloomed, caught, and spread. In moments, flame flickered up between the sticks, the orange light pushing back the forest’s deepening shadows.

Viola watched the fire take and then looked at him.

“Are we keeping it through the night?” she asked.

Ludger stared into the flames for a moment before answering.

“It’s a bit dangerous,” he admitted. “Light attracts attention.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she stayed silent.

“But it’s better this way,” Ludger continued. “If we’re not alone here, I’d rather learn that tonight than tomorrow when we’re tired and moving.”

Viola exhaled slowly. “So it’s bait.”

“It’s information,” Ludger corrected.

He sat back, letting the warmth reach his hands.

“Either nothing comes,” Ludger said calmly, “and we learn we have space. Or something does… and we learn what kind of place this is.”

The fire crackled.

The ruins watched.

And the forest beyond the light remained dark and quiet, waiting to decide whether it would answer.

Thank you for reading!

Don’t forget to follow, favorite, and rate. If you want to read 400 chapters ahead, you can check my patreon: /Comedian0

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep