Chapter 190: New Ideas!

The doors groaned open with a grinding weight that shook dust from the rafters, and a faint cold draft unfurled from the darkness beyond.

Albedo stepped forward first, pistols still hot with leftover mana flickering faintly along the barrels. Elara and Lilian followed close behind, both exhausted but alert enough that every sound made them tense.

The throne chamber closed behind them with a low, echoing tremor, sealing away the battlefield of shattered constructs.

The hallway ahead stretched impossibly long, lined with towering obsidian pillars etched with faint shimmering runes.

Strange shadows slid across the walls even with no visible light source. The group walked slowly, boots echoing against the smooth stone as the numbing silence of the palace swallowed them.

Lilian stretched her shoulders with a quiet grunt. “We’re burning through too much time.”

Elara nodded as she rubbed her sore wrists, “The longer we stay here, the higher chance the others have already left us if they’ve regrouped already,”

Albedo didn’t slow down, “Splitting up won’t increase anyone’s safety. This palace shifts. If we divide, we might never find each other again.” His voice was firm, unwavering. “We stay together. No exceptions.”

Lilian clicked her tongue, but she didn’t argue. She already knew he was right and was just letting out a frustrated statement, “Fine, but if the next room is a kitchen or something useless, I’m going to scream.”

Elara huffed a weak laugh, “Honestly? At this point I’d kill for a pantry with snacks.”

Albedo didn’t answer. His gaze drifted across the hallway, black marble, gold veins pulsing faintly, silver lines tracing patterns he didn’t recognize. The corridor seemed normal at first. Then he blinked.

“Palace shifted again, we need to move quickly,” He said, and they group quickly moved deeper within the palace.

The corridor forked five times, and each time they picked the path that felt least wrong. Wrong, because none of them felt right.

The entire palace seemed designed to corrode instinct, to make every direction feel like an illusion. The air grew thicker with each step, saturated with old magic so dense Elara could feel it crawling across her skin.

The first room they checked was an enormous garden hall. Glass arches extended to a painted ceiling of stormy skies, and colossal flower statues of silver and gold towered overhead. At first glance, it looked promising—until they stepped inside.

The petals of the metal flowers peeled open like eyes.

Each one was hollow and empty, dead with no mana signatures, no noise, nothing moving. They were all just sculptures.

Lilian kicked one lightly. Her boot rang off metal and she scoffed in annoyance, “This is useless. Let’s keep moving.”

They did. Another hallway twisted in a subtle spiral that made them dizzy if they looked too long. Then another room, this one filled with floating lanterns. The lanterns bobbed gently, illuminating a grand library of ancient tomes stacked so high the ceiling vanished into darkness.

Elara’s heartbeat spiked, “This looks like something.”

Albedo approached one of the tomes, resting on a pedestal crafted from a single, perfectly carved piece of amber. He flipped it open.

The pages were blank. Every book they checked was the same. No ink. No runes. Lilian groaned, throwing her hands up. “Who makes an entire library full of empty books?!”

“A palace built as a trial,” Albedo said, closing the tome, “would use illusions to waste our time. These empty halls are meant to trap us.”

They pressed on. The deeper they went, the more the hallways warped. Stairs that led downward suddenly looped back upward.

Balconies opened to courtyards that hadn’t been there moments before. Every twenty steps, the air trembled—and the palace subtly rearranged its pathways.

And each time it did, the pressure in the air grew heavier.

Elara hugged her arms around herself, “The configuration is changing faster.”

“Because we passed the first trial,” Albedo replied. “The palace is escalating.”

“Wonderful,” Lilian muttered. “As if this place wasn’t already a maze made by a sadist.”

They entered a corridor lined with murals depicting ancient battles. Warriors of light clashed against abyssal monstrosities. Kings raised flaming swords.

Queens levitated runic towers. But as they passed the murals, the painted figures slowly turned their heads toward the trio, their painted eyes flickering with awareness.

Elara froze. “Uhm… are they supposed to move?”

“No,” Albedo said, keeping his voice calm, “but don’t acknowledge them.”

The painted figures twisted more with each step, as if curious. Some reached hands toward the edge of the frame.

Lilian kept her gaze forward. “I swear, if they crawl out of the walls, I’m burning the whole palace down.”

Thankfully, they didn’t. The corridor opened into a wide chamber shaped like a crescent moon. A pedestal sat in the center, holding what looked like a stone orb carved with spiraling grooves.

The moment they stepped close, the grooves rearranged, shifting like a puzzle piece sliding in real time.

Lilian narrowed her eyes. “Another test?”

“No,” Albedo said quietly. “A dead end.”

Elara looked up sharply, “How do you know?”

“Because the grooves never repeat. A real puzzle has patterns.” He touched the orb with the back of his knuckle, “This one simply imitates activity to waste time.”

He turned away,

Elara sighed heavily, “Three rooms. Three failures. How big is this damn palace?”

“Big enough to hide something important,” Albedo said. “And big enough to mislead us until we panic.”

Lilian crossed her arms. “We’re not panicking.”

“You’re pacing.”

“I’m observing!”

Albedo hid a small exhale of amusement. Even exhausted, Lilian’s pride refused to bend.

They backtracked into the main hall, only to find that the main hall wasn’t the same anymore. Pillars had shifted positions. Doors had moved. The ceiling had lowered slightly. The palace reconfigured again with a long shudder that made the candles flicker.

Elara’s heartbeat quickened. “If the entire building keeps changing, what if the others, ”

“We’ll find them,” Albedo said. “But not by chasing illusions or wandering through random rooms.”

Lilian stepped closer. “Then what’s the plan?”

Albedo scanned the shifting architecture, eyes narrowing as he watched the walls ripple like drifting smoke.

“This entire palace,” he said slowly, “is built on ancient geometric principles. If the visible layout constantly changes, then the only stable structures are the hidden ones. Secret pathways, concealed doors, anchor points the magic doesn’t alter.”

“You’re saying the unchanging parts are the real map?” Elara asked.

“Exactly. The palace is rearranging its shell, not its bones.”

Lilian blinked. “…Wait. How the hell do you know that?”

“Because living things and structures built like living things follow patterns.” Albedo stepped to a nearby wall, placing his palm on the cold surface. “And this building breathes.”

Elara’s eyes widened as she realized it too. The faint pulse in the walls, she had thought it was just a trick of her blood rushing from exhaustion, but now she sensed the subtle throbbing. Like the palace had veins of mana running through it.

Lilian scowled. “I hate it. I absolutely hate walking inside something that feels alive.”

Albedo traced his hand across the wall’s surface until he felt the vibration dip, an interruption in the otherwise steady pulse.

“There,” he murmured. “This part doesn’t change.”

He pushed.

The wall sank inward with a deep, grinding groan. Stone dust cascaded down like falling ash. Then the panel slid sideways, revealing a narrow passage of spiraling blue light.

Elara gasped. “A hidden spine corridor…!”

Lilian looked between them and the glowing passage. “Well, if that isn’t ominous, I don’t know what is.”

Albedo stepped through first.

Elara followed.

Lilian lingered a second longer, staring back at the shifting palace halls behind them. For the first time since the battle with the constructs, her expression wavered.

“What if they’re in danger?” she whispered.

Albedo’s voice echoed faintly from the new passage. “Then the fastest way to help them is to reach the Hall and get out of here,”

Lilian tightened her fists and nodded. “Right.”

She stepped inside, and the wall sealed behind them, cutting off the maze-like halls and plunging them into a quiet, glowing tunnel. The spiraling blue lights hummed softly, like distant whispers echoing through water.

For the first time in what felt like hours, the path ahead didn’t shift.

Elara exhaled slowly. “Finally… something stable.”

“Don’t get comfortable,” Albedo said, eyes forward. “Stability in a place like this usually means we’re headed somewhere important.”

Lilian grinned, wiping blood off her lip. “Good. After that mess of constructs, I’m itching for something to punch.”

Elara gave her a tired smile. “Let’s hope it’s not another thirty opponents.”

“Please,” Lilian scoffed, brushing her hair back. “At least give me fifty.”

Albedo didn’t laugh, but the corner of his lip twitched.

They advanced deeper into the glowing passage, each step echoing with the faint promise of danger. And as the spirals of blue light tightened around them, the temperature dropped sharply, cold enough that frost began to gather on the stone.

Lilian rubbed her arms. “Anyone else suddenly freezing?”

“It’s mana insulation,” Elara murmured. “We’re getting close to a sealed space.”

Albedo nodded. “The Hall is near.”

A final pulse rolled down the corridor, the blue lights flaring bright, then fading into darkness as the passage widened into an enormous circular chamber.

What awaited them in the center was not a door.

It was something far, far worse.

And all three of them felt their hearts clench at the same time.

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