The Chronicles of Leafshade [Isekai/LitRPG]

People react to danger in all sorts of ways. Shaped by instinct, experience, belief... and fear.

Muradin, ever the stubborn one with pride thicker than his beard, chose to fight. The moment our enemy stood and looked even remotely threatening, he charged forward, shield raised like a defiant wall of steel.

Darwyn, on the other hand, had a very different reaction.

"RUUUN!" he shouted. "We don't stand a chance!"

He wasn't being a coward. That was survival instinct, plain and simple, backed by a quick analysis of the situation. One look was all he needed to decide: retreat was the smarter move.

Orin looked torn. Panic flared in her eyes as the unexpected unfolded too fast. She hesitated between following Darwyn's orders or rushing to help Muradin.

"Eryndor, what do we do?!" she asked, voice high with anxiety.

Panic had taken hold of her.

If Elena had been here, I could already picture her completely overwhelmed, frozen, like a deer caught in torchlight. She'd probably try to stay still, praying not to draw any attention... or provoke the thing in front of us.

The beast, however, remained calm. Disturbingly calm.

With fluid, unhurried movements, it raised its golden staff and fired bolts of energy, one after the other, at Muradin, Orin, and Darwyn.

Each of them stopped instantly. Like statues.

I had no idea if they could still see, hear, or if their minds were even conscious. But their bodies... utterly motionless.

My heart pounded. My hands were slick with sweat. My whole body felt like it might collapse under its own weight.

But fear or no fear, I did what I always tried to do when things spiraled out of control: stay calm. Shut out the emotions. Buy time. Analyze.

"I'll prove myself worthy," I said evenly, trying my best not to sound either afraid or threatening. "Just… leave my friends alone."

Most creatures in Dreadspire weren't capable of actual conversation. Let alone meaningful, two-way dialogue. But some, very rare ones, could.

In the game, certain rare encounters will present multiple dialogue options, each leading to a different outcome.

The moment I laid eyes on this creature, my inner gamer instinct flared.

This wasn't just some random monster encounter. This one could actually interact with you.

But unlike the mysterious old man or Lunarin, who were clearly sentient… I could feel it.

This creature wasn't.

It gave what looked disturbingly like a smile, then replied smoothly, "They are unharmed, for now. But their fate… lies not in my hands, but in yours."

"And why should I believe anything you say?" I asked, trying to stall for time. "At least introduce yourself."

"I am Sepharion, guardian of the Oberion Codex. Is that introduction sufficient for your... fragile sense of trust?"

Surprisingly, he remained calm. I couldn't sense any hostility. At least, not yet.

Still, I agreed with Darwyn. There was no way I could win in a straight fight against this thing.

"Yes, and now I believe you," I said, trying to sound friendly.

"I made it all the way here to the Fabled Sanctuary and took down the Grimoire by myself. Isn't that enough to prove my worth?" I asked. "Though... after that battle, I'm not exactly in peak fighting condition."

"You've only proven half of what is required," Sepharion replied, his voice calm and unnervingly precise. "But I do not seek blood. The Oberion Codex values wisdom and knowledge, not violence."

Oh really? Tell that to that fucking bastard Grimoire, I thought grimly.

"I don't know if I count as wise," I admitted. "And I'm not sure the knowledge I have is the kind you're looking for. But how exactly do I prove myself, then?"

"Just answer my questions," Sepharion said as he moved closer.

Without warning, he reclined once again, tail lazily flicking his staff.

My teammates' bodies suddenly stirred, hovering into the air like puppets pulled by invisible strings. The weapons they had gripped slipped from their hands and clattered against the floor. One by one, they were laid down beside him in eerie, perfect formation. Flat on their backs, arms resting at their sides, eyes slowly fluttering shut.

"You said you wouldn't hurt them," I said tightly, doing my best to keep the anger out of my voice.

"I believe I chose my words carefully," Sepharion replied flatly. "I said... their fate is in your hands."

What a smug bastard.

"Answer my questions correctly," Sepharion said in a deep, resonant voice that seemed to echo through the chamber, "and for each correct answer, you may choose one life to spare."

I barely had time to respond before the first riddle rolled off his tongue:

"I see all but am blind.
I hear all but stay quiet.
I am born in thought and buried in time.
I never lie, yet I'm shaped by those who recall me.
What am I?"

As the last word left his lips, a massive hourglass materialized above his head. The grains of sand inside cascaded down violently, fast and unforgiving.

Time was not on my side.

"How many guesses do I get?" I asked quickly.

Sepharion gave a faint smirk. "Isn't it obvious? I do not accept wrong answers."

Shit. So it was one shot only.

I swallowed hard, eyes flicking up toward the hourglass. Sand poured like a countdown to death.

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What was it? Something that saw but didn't see… heard but never spoke… shaped by thought, yet couldn't lie…

Then it clicked.

"It's the most precious thing we have," I said slowly. "The thing that gives life meaning. It's memory."

"Congratulations," Sepharion said in a flat, unreadable tone. "Now, choose who you want me to spare."

"The dwarf with the thick beard," I replied, pointing at Muradin's body. If we're forced to fight, at the very least we can hold our ground and put up some resistance.

"Very well," Sepharion said with a slight nod. Then, without giving me a moment to breathe, he continued, "Now, the second question."

"I cut deeper than blades, yet spill no blood.
I can heal or harm, depending on how I'm used
Once released, I cannot return.
What am I?"

The giant hourglass was magically reset once he finished delivering the riddle.

This one was harder. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the noise. The pressure, the falling sand, the fear.

Is it medicine? Or… greed?

Both seemed to fit parts of the riddle, but neither felt quite right.

The silence was crushing. The only sound was the endless hiss of falling sand, like the whisper of a thousand ticking clocks.

I opened my eyes.

Just a few grains of sand remain.

"It's words," I said firmly. "I'm sure of it."

"Congratulations," Sepharion said again, voice as cold and measured as before. "You may pick another one."

The next choice was obvious.

"Please spare the elf archer," I said, pointing toward Darwyn.

Sepharion gave a simple nod. No emotion, no hesitation, and immediately launched into the next riddle.

"You hold me but cannot see me.
You spend me, but I never return.
I build kingdoms, I destroy empires.
What am I?"

The last one. One more correct answer, and this game would finally be over.

I glanced at the hourglass, reset again.

What would happen if time ran out before I answered? Could I stall the creature long enough to save Orin?

I shook the thought away. I had to focus on the riddle.

This one was trickier than the others. A few answers came to mind: power, breath, trust. All tempting, all wrong.

I racked my brain, the final grains of sand slipping through the hourglass like a countdown to disaster. I didn't have much time left.

Wait. I got it.

"It's time, isn't it?" I said, looking up at Sepharion.

"I'm impressed. You might actually be worthy of the power. Now choose another one to spare."

Wait… another one?

I paused, replaying his earlier words in my head. I must've misunderstood the rules from the beginning.

"I choose myself," I said, testing my theory.

If I was right, then there was more to this so-called game than met the eye. But I still didn't know the cost of each decision, or what lay beneath the surface.

Sepharion stared at me in silence, his eyes narrowing with something dangerously close to interest. Then he said, "Very well, if that's your choice. Let's move to the next riddle."

"I grow when you share me,
Yet I weigh nothing at all.
I guide the wise, humble the proud,
And I answer when you call.
What am I?"

This time, it took me only a moment to figure out the answer.

It was something I often sought, and just as often shared.

"For the next life to be spared, I choose Orin, the druid girl," I said confidently.

"And the answer is knowledge."

"You are correct," Sepharion replied, still as expressionless as ever.

I held my breath, a nervous knot tightening in my chest. If my theory was right, there was still one final riddle left to solve. And I still wasn't sure what I was going to do.

"Now for the last one," Sepharion continued.

So I was right.

Sepharion spoke the next riddle:

"I'm kept in shadows, hidden from sight,
Shared in whispers, never in light.
Once you speak, I start to fade.
Break the silence, and I'm betrayed.
What am I?"

I listened closely to the riddle. Every word, every pause.

This time, it wasn't just about solving it. It was about choosing what to do next.

At the start, Sepharion said that with each correct answer, one life would be saved. That meant my life counted. And his, too.

So if I had answered incorrectly earlier, I could've chosen to sacrifice Sepharion instead.

But I doubted it would be that simple. There had to be consequences. Maybe we'd all get trapped here. Or worse.

Then again, if I let him live, we might end up having to fight him later. And considering how effortlessly he incapacitated my entire team, that fight wouldn't end well for us.

Logically, the safest route would've been to intentionally get this final answer wrong.

But I couldn't ignore my gamer instinct. Some part of me knew there was something special waiting if I answered all of them correctly.

"The answer is secret,'" I said, finally settling on my choice.

"Well done, Chosen One," Sepharion said. "You have proven yourself worthy. And… thank you for sparing my life."

"So… is it really over?" I asked.

"Yes. It is," he replied, lifting the staff wrapped around his tail, preparing to cast something.

"Wait, before that, I have a few questions," I said quickly.

Before he could respond, I asked, "What would've happened if I answered the last riddle wrong?"

"I would have vanished," he said simply.

"When will you appear again?"

What I really wanted to know was when we'd get another chance to obtain another codex.

"I wouldn't. I'd be dead permanently. No coming back."

"So… there's only one Oberion Codex in the entire world?" I asked, hesitation creeping into my voice.

"Of course there is. That's a weird question."

If that was true… then this book was beyond priceless.

"Do you know where to unlock the Codex's contents?"

"It's written in the book already. You've proven yourself worthy, so you should be able to figure it out," he replied. "Now let's continue. I don't have much time left."

"Wait, wait! One last question," I asked hopefully. "What exactly is the purpose of the Oberion Codex?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sepharion smirked faintly. "You've already answered that through the riddles."

With that, he turned toward my friends and raised his staff.

I watched as their bodies began to stir, rigid limbs twitching back to life. The frozen stillness faded, replaced by slow, blinking awareness.

Sepharion glanced back at me with a faint, knowing smile. Streams of golden energy began flowing from his body into mine, warm and gentle.

His form slowly faded, calm and unafraid, like he'd been waiting for this moment all along.

"We'll meet again… when the time is right," Sepharion said for the last time, just before his body vanished completely.

[Forbidden Entry has been added to the Grimoire Spells.]