Chapter Eight: The Labyrinth

A fierce suction force drew the blood from Zhang Xiao’s body incessantly; his face grew paler by the moment. He desperately wanted to open his attribute panel to initiate the second stage of the Founding Quest, hoping it would free him from this cursed door. Yet the relentless pull not only drained his blood but also sapped his strength; now, he could not even muster the energy to move a finger, let alone tap the attribute panel. “Damn it, is this damned door going to suck me dry and leave nothing but a husk?” Just as Zhang Xiao cursed furiously in his heart, the suction force abruptly ceased and flung him aside.

Before the vermilion door, a key formed from gathered blood hovered in midair. Beneath the door, a stone platform rose, and the blood-red key slowly inserted itself into the stone. With a sharp click, mechanisms shifted, and the tightly sealed vermilion door thundered open. Aside from Zhang Xiao, Carosius and the other two ancient monsters fixed their greedy gazes upon the opening door. As it swung wide, the three figures rushed inside, fearing anyone might seize the lead. Zhang Xiao, utterly depleted, his spiritual energy drained, barely clung to consciousness—fortunately, the Buddhist power within him began to circulate, restoring some clarity to his mind.

Upon regaining his senses, Zhang Xiao looked inward and discovered, to his shock and fury, that his golden core had shattered. “How could this happen? Damn it.” Just as he prepared to trigger the second stage of the quest to escape, Carosius and the other two emerged from the door, cursing loudly. Not only Carosius, but Hanmon and Minel’s faces were also clouded with darkness. Zhang Xiao’s heart sank—if there was no treasure within, he was in grave danger. Should these three monsters vent their anger upon him, he would be neither able to live nor die. With this grim thought, Zhang Xiao reached for his attribute panel, but at that moment, a hand seized his wrist faster than he could move. It was Hanmon, his expression cold. “What are you trying to do?” Hanmon demanded.

Zhang Xiao hadn’t expected Hanmon to pay him any mind at such a moment. A flicker of murderous intent passed through his heart but was quickly concealed. His face remained calm as he replied, “I’m gravely wounded and wanted to check my attributes.” Hanmon snorted and threw Zhang Xiao before the vermilion door. “Tell me, is this how you Easterners hide your treasures?” Zhang Xiao endured the pain within and raised his head. Instead of treasures, he saw an endless labyrinth. No wonder Hanmon and the others were furious—after all their efforts and sacrifices, they had only managed to open a doorway. How could they not be enraged?

Zhang Xiao lay on the ground, silent, unable to predict such an outcome. Seeing his silence, Hanmon kicked Zhang Xiao’s head and cursed, “Speak! Tell me, do all you Easterners love playing hide and seek?” Rage boiled within Zhang Xiao, but reason prevailed, warning him not to act rashly. As he pondered how to respond, he noticed faint characters etched on the floor beneath the door: “Any who is not of Chinese blood and enters my cave shall die!”

His eyes lit up, and he began to plot. “Senior, only the most supreme treasures in the East are guarded this way. There must be something unparalleled within,” he said. Hanmon snorted but finally turned his attention away, looking to Carosius. “Old man, can you use spatial magic to cross directly?”

Carosius shook his head. “Impossible. You went in just now—you should have felt the suppression. Inside, I can’t use spatial magic at all.” Hanmon’s eyes flashed with grim resolve. He strode to a stone wall, searching it for a moment. Suddenly, his aura surged, and a long blade appeared in his hand. Without flourish, he struck the stone wall. A thunderous crash erupted, and Hanmon was flung back by the recoil. Had Minel not steadied him, he would have fallen headlong. Even so, Hanmon’s hands were torn, blood dripping from his grip on the blade. Minel pressed a finger to Hanmon’s wound, mending it swiftly.

“Save your strength. This is the residence of an ancient Eastern master—far beyond our ability to destroy,” Minel said, his face ashen as he gazed at the maze. Though they feared not the labyrinth itself, the traps within worried them. Eastern formations had once given them much grief, and entering the maze meant their power would be forcibly suppressed to seventy percent—an unsettling prospect.

As Minel despaired, he noticed Zhang Xiao struggling to rise nearby. His eyes brightened with inspiration, and he rushed forward, gently helping Zhang Xiao up and wiping the dust from his face with a silk cloth. He scolded Hanmon, “Hanmon, for shame! How can a warrior treat a child like this?” Indeed, by age alone, the three ancient monsters could have been Zhang Xiao’s grandfather’s grandfather.

Hanmon, bewildered by Minel’s rebuke, wanted to retort but was cowed by Minel’s strength. Carosius, seeing the ploy, stepped up to pat the dust from Zhang Xiao and said, “It’s Hanmon’s fault—too crude.” Zhang Xiao recognized their intent immediately: they wanted him to lead the way through the maze. Hmph! If he found an opportunity within, he would surely make his escape.

Recalling the warning inscribed beneath his feet, Zhang Xiao’s heart brimmed with murderous resolve, though he feigned a surprised and grateful expression. Minel and Carosius, sensing the moment was ripe, smiled. “Young friend, we aren’t familiar with the maze within. Would you be so kind as to scout ahead for us?”

Zhang Xiao cursed inwardly, “If you’re unfamiliar, do you think I am?” But with Hanmon glaring coldly from the side, his words changed as they left his lips: “It is my honor to serve you, seniors.” Carosius laughed in satisfaction. “Excellent, excellent! Rest assured, young friend, once the treasure is found, you shall have a share.” With that, Zhang Xiao’s face lit up with excitement, and he replied promptly, “Thank you, senior!” Carosius patted his shoulder, chuckling, “Go on ahead. We’ll follow behind.” Zhang Xiao rejoiced inwardly—at last, he had shaken off these three monsters. Without another word, he strode forward and entered the maze in the blink of an eye.

As soon as he entered, Zhang Xiao’s expression darkened, his heart cold: “Hmph, just let me find my chance.”

“Old man, I think we should just kill that brat,” Hanmon growled, watching Zhang Xiao’s disappearing silhouette. From the beginning, Hanmon had harbored murderous intent toward Zhang Xiao, sensing his potential and cunning. Despite Hanmon’s humiliations, Zhang Xiao showed no sign of resentment—a foe who could feign weakness so thoroughly was the most dangerous kind.

“Kill him? Then you go scout the way yourself. Don’t worry, I left a mental mark on the kid—just follow him through the maze. Once we’re out, you can do whatever you like with him,” Carosius sneered. Indeed, when Carosius had patted Zhang Xiao moments ago, he had secretly planted a spiritual mark. Had Zhang Xiao been at his peak, he would have noticed, but now, nearly crippled, he could not possibly detect it. With this assurance, Carosius felt at ease.

After a while, the three ancient monsters entered the maze, following Zhang Xiao’s spiritual mark. Zhang Xiao, noticing they hadn’t followed immediately, breathed a sigh of relief. He took out a jade vial, gazing at it with reluctance. Inside was the Reincarnation Pill his master had given him upon leaving Mount Mao—a supreme elixir. If not for the dire circumstances, he would never use it so lightly. Yet Zhang Xiao was decisive; his hesitation flickered and vanished. Compared to his life, everything else was meaningless.

Opening the vial, he found a crystalline, snow-white pill inside. Its fragrance alone invigorated him; without delay, he swallowed it. Instantly, warmth blossomed in his dantian, and his shattered golden core slowly began to mend—though not quickly, it was steady. As his wounds began to heal, Zhang Xiao’s spirit revived.

Every stone and tile here exuded the atmosphere of ancient Chinese civilization. Clearly, this was the dwelling of a Chinese cultivator, though why it was built abroad remained a mystery. The stone walls were adorned with all manner of carvings, dazzling Zhang Xiao as he walked. Unwittingly, he wandered into a dead-end cave.

He shook his head, about to leave, when something caught his eye. On the stone wall was a peculiar design—neither flower nor pattern, its lines chaotic and interwoven, at first glance conveying nothing. But with careful attention, a smiling face could be discerned. Zhang Xiao stared, waves of shock surging in his heart. He pinched his arm fiercely, hands trembling as he took a jade pendant from his bone ring—the very pendant he had taken from Song Qing after defeating him at the Nine Sects Tournament.

Looking at the pendant, a sharp light flashed in Zhang Xiao’s eyes. “Could the world truly harbor such coincidence?” he wondered silently.