Chapter 99: The 98th Chapter: Adventure in the Maze
In the eastern suburbs of Shalin City lies a vast expanse of hills stretching to the horizon. From the highest hill, one can see the azure sea and the light golden beach.
Due to its proximity to the sea, the vegetation here is sparse and the area is rocky. It’s difficult to cultivate arable land, so not many people settle here; only some monsters, attracted by the complex terrain, have chosen to make their homes in this area. They go out at night to rob and kill, then return home to sleep and fight.
Now, this barren land has been cordoned off by the army of Shalin City, closing several entrances to the hills in the name of safety.
As night fell, the moonlight spilled over the camp tents. It seemed to awaken the dawn within people, breaking the silence of the camp, causing soldiers to pick up their weapons, and allowing the signal officer to ride out of the camp.
It is said that the entrance to the Demon King’s treasure vault only opens at night.
George, wearing an oversized hooded cloak that could completely cover his helmet, arrived alone at the top of a treeless hill. A few people were watching him from a distance. Those were the big shots’ men.
George opened a wooden box labeled “I am the Keybox” and looked at the Demon King’s handwriting for the tenth time.
“… On the night of the full moon…”
George looked up and saw the moon hanging in the sky, exactly a full moon.
“… at the top of the treeless hill in the eastern suburbs.”
He lowered his head, and through the darkness, he saw no fewer than three treeless hills.
The clue left by the Demon King didn’t specify which hill it was.
He could only try them one by one.
George silently read the contents again.
“… I am Ultraman, transform! Moon Warrior!”
Just reading it in his mind, George felt his grip on the wooden box strengthen. Though he couldn’t understand its meaning, he still felt a wave of shame wash over him.
It couldn’t have been written by Jima, could it? The mischievous style is very much like Jima’s.
George pictured Jima’s playful smile in his mind. He knew she must be full of mischievous ideas, occasionally glancing at him stealthily, thinking he hadn’t noticed while wearing a triumphant grin. Sometimes, she was so cheeky that it made one want to spank her hard.
However, reason told George that this was merely his unfounded speculation.
Jima had no motive to do this, and she certainly looked forward to regaining her freedom. Furthermore, she didn’t have the means to stuff a disguised key into the vault. Most importantly, although her writing in common script looked like a mess, it wasn’t the same kind of mess as the common script on the keybox.
A cool night breeze brushed against his cheek.
George reined in his thoughts and focused on the task at hand. He lifted his face towards the moon, the moonlight landing on the observation port of his helmet, making him look particularly serious.
George pronounced the spell clearly: “I am Ultraman, transform! Moon Warrior!”
The night breeze carried his voice across the hills under the darkness, rustling the branches.
A minute, two minutes passed.
George held up his arm, directing the key towards the moon, but nothing happened.
The big shots’ men approached and asked:
“Did it succeed?”
“No,” George said, lowering his hand holding the key.
The man’s mouth twitched as he stifled a laugh and said, “As expected, it’s not this hill.”
“Right, the clue left by the Demon King is very vague,” George said. “However, there aren’t many treeless hills.”
“Aren’t you going to the entrance prepared by the big shot? Chamberlain has taken fifty soldiers and is ready to enter.”
George glanced at the garbled text on the keybox, closed the box, and said:
“Time waits for no one; let’s get me into the maze first.”
“Be careful, it’s dangerous inside. No one has ever come back after going in.”
Half an hour later.
After bending down to pass through the thicket, George confirmed he had reached the Demon King’s maze.
Before him, white mist enveloped the area, and the trees beyond the fog seemed abnormal. Some strange force twisted them, the trees grew unusually dense, interlinked with each other, forming an impenetrable wall of trees.
His vision was limited. Even with controlling light, he could only see about twenty meters ahead.
George looked back and found the way he came had vanished, replaced instead by another wall of trees.
According to the big shot’s intelligence, all entrances could only be entered, not exited. Currently, among all those who had gone in, it was said that only one adventurer had returned alive. Unfortunately, that adventurer had been captured by Chamberlain, and the information he brought back naturally belonged to Chamberlain and the kind benefactor.
The big shots’ information about the maze had all been gathered bit by bit. No one knew how much of that was true and how much was false.
George remembered when this matter was discussed, a displeased expression appeared on the face of the big shot, Fulius.
George approached the tree wall. Upon inspection, he found the emerald branches intertwined like a knitted sweater, densely packed, with droplets of dew hanging from the tips of the leaves. Thorny brambles covered the tree wall.
George first stabbed the tree wall with his broadsword, easily penetrating it. Green sap flowed down his blade like blood. The entire wall of trees seemed to come alive, trembling, and suddenly the thorns lunged at him. George withdrew his sword, stepped back, and severed all the incoming thorns.
There was no follow-up attack; the wounds on the tree wall healed, and the severed branches sprouted tender buds, mending the cut thorns.
George tried a few more times and confirmed that relying on his sword alone could not open a path through the tree wall.
“Very strong vitality. I wonder if the Demon King hired a druid or if it’s the power of the forest god system? This tree wall looks a lot like the style of a green dragon…”
George analyzed many possibilities, leading to dozens of suspects. He shook his head, stopping the analysis and focusing on the most critical task at hand.
The top of a treeless hill in the eastern suburbs might be in the maze.
George studied the key closely. There was a magical aura about it, but he had previously had a wizard appraise it. The wizard deemed it an ordinary magic key.
Thinking about how no one would hear him uttering the spell in the maze, George felt a wave of relief.
In the distance, a roar echoed. The sound of an explosion reverberated through the tree wall.
George listened intently, guessing it might be Chamberlain using his flame ability to destroy the tree wall, heading straight for the exit.
He must find the Demon King’s treasure vault before Chamberlain. However, the keybox stated that the entrance was on a “treeless” hill. Chamberlain might be heading his men into a trap.
If this was a trick left by the Demon King Jima, then he would undoubtedly lose. It was better to follow Chamberlain and act according to the situation; if it wasn’t a trap, he could defeat him outright.
George tightened his grip on the sword handle, bent his knees, and leaped powerfully, launching himself at the tree wall. Dozens of thorny whips came at George; he swung his sword, severing them all and crashing into the tree wall, embedding his sword into it.
The intertwined branches came alive, wrapping around George. He used the force to push off the branches, leveraging his strength to leap up; after three jumps, he finally reached the top of the tree wall, his field of vision suddenly widening.
Beneath the white mist was a monotonous sea of green, hazy and indistinct. The distance was completely unclear.
George patiently waited while hacking at the thorns that came at him with his sword. The wooden thorns coated with poison could not penetrate his armor. Branches wrapped around George’s calves, but he calmly continued to chop at the thorns while scanning his surroundings.
His patience paid off.
Behind the white mist, a spark ignited, followed by a booming sound that echoed throughout the maze.
Using his sword as an axe, he carved an opening in the tree wall, freeing his legs. With brute strength, he leaped up and collided with the tree wall ahead, pressing against the thorns as he moved in the direction of Chamberlain’s team.
Ten minutes later.
George found traces left by Chamberlain, branches and leaves ripped apart by explosions lay scattered everywhere. The large hole in the tree hole was slowly healing, and a monster as big as three cows lay on the ground, emitting black smoke. It looked like a tangle of tree roots with several strong vines.
George approached and first stabbed the monster’s corpse vigorously with his sword to ensure it was dead. Then he kicked over its body.
It was a vine monster. A dangerous magical creature that often appears in magical forests, preferring to hide under plants.
It is adept at hiding and can transform, merging with green plants. It can dig holes and hide underground, with its deadly vines being inconspicuous amidst the grass. It can also hang from tree branches, appearing as some sort of symbiotic plant of a large tree.
Before it could lash out with its powerful vines to ensnare a person, even seasoned rangers might not notice it; the only thing to do is dodge quickly and hope it targets their teammates instead.
While George recalled the information from the “Monster Compendium,” he suddenly noticed, beneath the charred yellowed vines, there appeared to be a human figure. He became alert and used his sword to brush aside the vines.
It was a corpse, its eyes wide open, clad in ragged clothing. The explosion had torn apart its already worn garments, revealing burned skin underneath.
A guide?
George speculated and used his sword to prod the vines covering the corpse’s hands. He revealed bound wrists and an iron ring around the corpse’s neck connected to a hemp rope.
It was a slave.
The vine monster had a weakness; it was dumb and wouldn’t choose weaker targets, grabbing whoever was closest.
George could imagine a pitiful person, like a dog, being led ahead in the line under the threat of swords and crossbows, drawing the vine monster out with their own flesh.
He must have been very desperate, nervously looking around in the white mist. Several vines broke through the air and wrapped tightly around him, and then Chamberlain unhesitatingly launched a fireball, incinerating him along with the monster.
George knelt on one knee, one hand gripping the divine emblem, murmuring prayers while the other hand closed the dead man’s eyes. He then stood up and continued onward.
The next minute, he saw a second corpse.
The cause of death was a crossbow bolt through its back, thrown into the tree wall. Thorns wrapped around it, piercing its skin, bloodied, as if feeding on the corpse’s nutrients.
George turned his head and didn’t waste any more time praying for it.
Because he saw two more slave corpses.
Twenty minutes later.
George estimated he had reached the center of the maze.
It was a lowland, lush with water plants, with puddles that could reach knee-deep. Through the white mist, something resembling a small hill was vaguely visible, emitting a faint green light—perhaps a monster, or some sort of evil magic array.
A small army cautiously waded through the puddles. The white mist obscured their details, making it difficult to see more than vague silhouettes.
George was hiding behind a wall of trees; beside him, the wall was slowly healing. Burnt branches fell, and tender green shoots emerged. Three minutes ago, Chamberlain’s team had passed through here, leaving three of their companions’ corpses behind. They looked hurried, not even having time to bury their companions.
“Boom, boom, boom.”
The keybox emitted a sound. Hidden behind the tree wall, George readied his sword, opened the keybox, and the key sprang to life, jumping out from inside. George immediately grabbed the key, feeling an invisible force dragging it towards the faintly glowing object in the white mist.
At that moment, a sharp whistle sounded near George. He looked up to see a figure leaping out from behind the bushes along the path he had just traversed, running while blowing a piercing brass whistle.
Chamberlain had hidden someone along the path.
