Chapter 232: Souls Of The Limitless
Pyris, meanwhile, contemplated his next move. He turned to Alera. "Do you feel… different? Or is it just me?" Staring at her head.
Alera tilted her head. "Define 'different.'"
"Never mind,"
"Hmmph! How cares about you little secrets!"
Pyris just grinned
Alera blinked in confusion, unsure of what Pyris was trying to say.
He pointed to her head, gesturing impatiently. With a furrowed brow, she reached up and pulled a few strands of hair forward. It took a moment for the change to register, but when it did, her eyes widened.
Her hair had turned white.
"Perfect!" she muttered sarcastically, tossing the strands aside. "Of all colors!"
"Well," Pyris chuckled, leaning against a jagged wall of stone, "it's not bad. A necromancer with white hair—how iconic!"
Alera shot him a glare, her lips curling into a sour pout. "Yeah, iconic. Just what I need to look even scarier! What's next? Glowing red eyes?" She waved a hand dramatically, but the effect was undercut when she whipped out her phone to inspect her reflection.
"Nah, violet glowing eyes, only the glow is missing!" Pyris laughed as she inspected herself.
The image staring back at her was almost unrecognizable. Her previously smooth dark locks were gone, replaced by silken strands of perfect white that gleamed like untainted snow under the labyrinth's dim glow. But the real shock was her face—it had transformed entirely.
Gone were the traces of youthful softness and the slight chubbiness in her cheeks. Her features were sharp, refined, and carried an unnatural allure, one that practically screamed dark power.
"I look… fifteen," she muttered. Her fingers trailed along her cheekbones, almost as if she were checking to see if the image was real.
"You look beautiful, darling," Pyris teased, his grin widening when Alera shot him a sharp look.
"Yeah, on second thought," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, "I do like the new me. But why white?"
Pyris leaned closer, resting his chin on his hand. "What's the occasion? Some new power awakening? Or maybe…" His grin turned playful. "Some god out there thought you weren't getting enough of my attention."
"Don't jinx it!" she snapped, though the corners of her lips twitched in an almost-smile.
Their laughter echoed softly in the cavern, the sound strangely out of place amidst the oppressive silence of the labyrinth.
Around them, a dense, pulsating mist swirled, licking at the edges of the chamber but never daring to encroach. The strange phenomenon wasn't lost on either of them—it wasn't normal for a mist, especially one as hostile as this, to avoid prey so blatantly.
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"The essence of escaping the grip of the mist," Pyris began, his voice calm and measured, "lies in overcoming your desires. You have to detach yourself from the thing you crave most. That's how it traps people—it offers them everything they've ever wanted, but at the cost of their freedom—being living beings."
Alera frowned, her gaze dark as she glanced at their companions—Zara and the two others, still caught within the mist's web. Their once vibrant forms were growing frail, their skin pale and thin as though life itself was being siphoned away.
"But we faced different tests," she said, her voice thoughtful. "I saw visions of the past. You faced nothing but allure of power. There's a pattern, isn't there?"
"There always is." Pyris folded his arms, his expression grim. "The mist reads our souls. It knows what we desire most because it can dig into the deepest corners of who we are. That's why it has them so tightly in its grip."
Alera studied the scene before her. Tendrils of mist connected their companions to a dimly glowing orb at the center of the chamber. The orb pulsed faintly, its light dimming with each passing moment, as though it were a heart running out of strength.
"This has to be the treasure Lia was telling me about." Pyris thought.
"And us?"
"The mist can't fully read us," Pyris said with a shrug. "Maybe it used too much energy trying, or maybe our souls are just too complex for it. Whatever the reason, it couldn't pull us in the same way. Instead, it threw fragments of our pasts at us, hoping to wear us down. As for, me I couldn't see my last fully." Pyris was meaning his life on earth.
He gestured toward the husks scattered across the floor—people who had clearly failed to escape the mist's grip. Their forms were emaciated, their eyes empty as though their very essence had been hollowed out.
Alera shivered but pressed on. "Fine. But how do we get them back? Breaking someone out of their dream-state isn't exactly easy. Imagine having everything you've ever wanted handed to you on a silver platter. Who'd want to leave that?" Not to mention that they will be kicked out of the mind even if they were able to enter.
Her voice wavered slightly. The truth of her own words stung more than she'd expected.
She could picture it all too clearly—standing by Pyris's side, commanding legions of undead, her every ambition realized. The idea of walking away from such a perfect dream felt almost… impossible.
"And I can't enter their minds," Pyris said, his voice breaking her thoughts.
"What?!" Alera turned to him sharply, her surprise evident. "You entered mine!"
"That's different," Pyris said with a smug grin. "You're marked by me, lovebug. Our bond lets me slip in when I need to."
Alera groaned. "Ugh. You and your marks. What about Zara? You two have that Eternal Witch Oath. Isn't that a strong enough bond?"
"It is," Pyris admitted, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "But Zara's… well, Zara. Her power is so far beyond mine that even with the oath, I couldn't force my way in without her permission."
Alera stared darkly at Zara, unknown emotions flickering in her eyes.
"Didn't know she was this emotional about others too," Pyris mused with a faint smile as he relaxed against the jagged stone wall. His posture was casual, almost lazy, as though the dire situation meant nothing to him. He didn't seem worried at all.
What was the worst that could happen?
At most, the mist would take years to drain Zara and the others completely, turning them into husks like the remains scattered around the cave. It wasn't an immediate threat, and Pyris was confident he could save them with a bit of effort—though, for now, he decided he had earned a moment of relaxation.
He stretched out fully on the stone, arms tucked behind his head, making it abundantly clear that he had no intention of rushing into action.
Meanwhile, the Living Shadows patrolled the mist's edges and the surrounding labyrinth. Even the horrors lurking within the depths of the labyrinth avoided the misty cave entirely.
"Is this respect for boundaries," Pyris mused aloud, watching his shadowy minions through narrowed eyes, "or are they afraid of the mist too?" Your journey continues on My Virtual Library Empire
His tone turned light, almost amused, as he continued, "Isn't it hilarious? Those creatures know every twist and turn in this labyrinth, where the deadliest horrors reside. And yet, here we are—supposedly intelligent beings—trapped by some stupid mist."
Alera didn't respond, her gaze still fixed on Zara. The faint shimmer of the mist reflected in her sharp, pale eyes.
"Hey, lovebug," Pyris called, breaking the silence, "do your summons retain their memories from their previous lives?" since she had a labyrinth creature as her summon, to could guide them later—that is if their memories were still there.
Alera blinked, turning her attention to him. She studied him for a moment, her lips twitching, before a burst of laughter erupted from her.
It started as a chuckle but quickly grew into full-blown, uncontrollable laughter.
"Previous lives? Really?" she managed to say between breaths, her voice thick with amusement.
Pyris shrugged, utterly unbothered by her reaction. "Well, technically speaking, we kill them, and you bring them back. That counts as a new life for them, doesn't it? From death to living—though I suppose 'walking dead' is more accurate in their case."
That only made her laugh harder. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, her voice echoing through the cavern as her amusement reached its peak.
"Well," Pyris said dryly, watching her with a raised brow, "aren't you too cheerful? I didn't think I was funny, but clearly, I've missed my calling as a comedian then."
Her laughter finally began to subside, though her shoulders still shook with occasional giggles. Pyris tilted his head, studying her closely.
"She's trying to distract herself," he realized. His gaze softened for a brief moment before he spoke again, his tone more serious. "Hey, you know I have a way to save them, but it's risky."