424 Underground Maze
Albus Medici… Lumian repeated the name to himself, glancing at the member of the Iron and Blood Cross Order who had suddenly appeared.

During Gardner Martin’s gathering, Albus had never revealed his last name, and Gardner Martin had never introduced him. Now, he had actually given his full name to Poufer Sauron.

Is he trying to make it more realistic? Lumian’s gaze swept across Albus’s face, and he realized that when Count Poufer mentioned the surname Medici, he didn’t hide his mockery at all, as if mocking the Sauron family member.

“Ciel Dubois,” Lumian extended his right hand and politely introduced himself.

Albus casually shook his hand, a smile evident in his eyes.

He said, “I’ve heard your name before, a generous patron of art.”

The member of the Iron and Blood Cross Order emphasized “generous.”

“That’s mainly thanks to my sponsor,” Lumian said with a double entendre.

In the ears of the other guests, he was referring to his father—his wealthy family. As a member of the Iron and Blood Cross Order, Albus caught the subtle message.

Poufer Sauron exchanged a few pleasantries with Lumian before escorting him to the sofa.

The gathering was intimate, with familiar faces all around, including Poufer’s cousin, Elros, Novelist Anori, Painter Mullen, Critic Ernst Young, and Poet Iraeta.

After some casual conversation and nibbling on snacks accompanied by black tea, Count Poufer glanced around and suggested with a mischievous smile, “How about we embark on an adventure today?”

“Adventure?” Albus raised an eyebrow and couldn’t resist a playful quip, “An adventure in the bedroom?”

His insinuation was clear. Red Swan Castle might be spacious, with room for a key family member and even hundreds of soldiers at its zenith, but it hardly seemed like a place fit for adventure. Were they supposed to reenact a Trier-like adventure under a bedroom’s plush sheets?

The jest lightened the atmosphere, and Poufer Sauron cleared his throat before continuing,

“Perhaps you’re unaware, but Red Swan Castle harbors an extensive underground area.

“In the era of its construction, its primary function was war. It had to boast a cavernous cellar and a tunnel for escape during dire situations, or it would be deemed inadequate.

“Throughout the centuries, my forebears expanded and modified the underground, turning it into a labyrinth resembling something out of a horror story. Even though I grew up in Red Swan Castle, my knowledge of that place is limited to the areas I frequently use.

“Our objective today is to venture deep into this subterranean maze and locate a Count’s crown that one of my ancestors misplaced in one of its chambers. The crown is adorned with numerous rubies, making it easily distinguishable.

“The one who retrieves the Count’s crown will be crowned today’s king.”

Deep into the underground maze… Scenes suddenly flashed through Lumian’s mind.

The constant self-mutilating people in Red Swan Castle…

Screams of unknown origin…

A bronze coffin, surrounded by countless white candles…

A palm with dark-red, nearly-black blood vessels…

And a withered, black heart with a trickle of crimson seeping out…

These latter objects seemed to be concealed somewhere in the depths of the underground hall!

In an instant, Lumian comprehended the gravity of Poufer Sauron’s proposal.

Poufer Sauron’s probing was here!

Suppressing the urge to scan his surroundings and possibly catch a glimpse of Gardner Martin, who might be lurking, Lumian turned his attention to Albus Medici.

The member of the Iron and Blood Cross Order clicked his tongue and chuckled.

“Sounds intriguing. This is a game for the courageous!”

As if to quell any doubts or reluctance among the group, doing so meant: Those who decline to participate are merely cowards!

Count Poufer seized the opportunity to reassure them, “Worry not. If you lose your way and cannot find your path back, just pull the bell rope in your chamber. The servants will be dispatched to search for you and bring you back from below.”

“No problem,” Anori, the short and plump novelist, quipped with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m quite looking forward to something happening. After all, it will provide me with excellent material for my writing.”

“Like Anori’s Last Day?” Lumian joked.
Having attended numerous gatherings hosted by the Black Cat art organization, Lumian was well aware of Novelist Anori and Poet Iraeta’s unique quirks. Anori had a taboo for never praising fellow authors, while Iraeta’s ire was only stirred by the current social realities in Intis.

Anori took a sip of his black tea and mumbled, “Those old fogeys from the Intis Faculty of Arts will absolutely love this theme.”

Seeing no objections, Count Poufer rose from his seat and addressed the assembled guests,

“Let’s divide into two groups and begin this adventure. We’ll set out individually along the way.

“One group will follow me, and the other will accompany Ciel. These individuals have all been kings in the past three months.

“Those willing to join Ciel, raise your hands.”

“Me!” Albus Medici was the first to raise his hand. Lumian had expected him to follow Poufer Sauron closely to complete the Iron and Blood Cross Order’s mission.

Count Poufer appeared unfazed, as if this was the anticipated course of events.

The second to raise her hand was Elros, the cousin of the host.

With her long auburn hair, soft features, and bright brown eyes, she smiled at Lumian and said, “I’ve always been Monsieur Ciel’s companion in the past. I see no reason to change that now.”

Lumian nodded and returned her smile.

He was aware that beneath her youthful appearance, Elros possessed a complexity that belied her innocence.

In one of his unsettling dreams, most participants in the King’s Pie game had descended into madness, inflicting self-harm or harm on others. Only three individuals remained unaffected: Lumian himself, Poufer Sauron, and Miss Elros.

Lumian couldn’t help but wonder about her true motivations for choosing to accompany him into the underground maze.

The third to raise his hand was the poet, Iraeta.

Holding his cherrywood pipe, he offered a straightforward reason, “He’s my sponsor!”

The remaining guests, including Novelist Anori, Painter Mullen, and Critic Ernst Young, formed a team with Poufer Sauron.

They left the comfort of the living room and found themselves standing next to a fully-armored statue. Descending the nearby stairs, designed for two people to walk side by side, they ventured further into the depths of the castle.

The walls of the staircase were mottled and grayish-white, winding their way down into the bowels of the earth. The surroundings grew increasingly quiet as they descended.

After traversing about three floors, Lumian and his group reached the entrance of the underground maze.

The passageways were illuminated by numerous wall lamps, some connected to gas pipes, while others had a more classical design with candles burning brightly.

Lumian gazed up at the ceiling and noticed the aqueous-black stone bricks above, shrouded in darkness. Their cracks were distinct, and the surface exhibited signs of peeling.

“Let’s choose this one,” Poufer declared, taking a carbide lamp from the wall and leading his team down the leftmost passageway.

After setting up the carbide lamp, Lumian instinctively proceeded down the corridor ahead without hesitation.

He believed that in such an environment, methodical searching might cause them to overlook something significant. By relying on the convergence of Beyonder characteristics and the concealed Blood Emperor aura, he believed he would stumble upon something of value.

“What’s your reason for choosing this path?” Albus Medici’s expression was always a little annoying.

Lumian responded with a hint of nonchalance, “I have faith in fate.”

“I like that reason,” Elros chimed in with a faint smile.

Poet Iraeta took a puff from his cherrywood pipe and added, “I believe in it too, but only if fate is inclined to favor me.”

The quartet ventured deeper into the corridor, encountering what appeared to be storage rooms along the way.

Soon, they arrived at a dimly lit hall with three doors, each bearing a single word in ancient Feysac: Hope, Death, and Madness.

Lumian had abandoned deep thinking by this point. Without hesitation, he walked towards the Door of Madness and gently pushed it open.

As the door swung ajar, darkness enveloped the room, and the light from the carbide lamp spilled in, revealing an eerie sight. Lifelike wax statues stood throughout the room, both men and women, adorned in either ordinary or exquisite attire, their expressions twisted in agony.

“Not bad,” Albus commented, disdainfully patting a wax statue’s face with his right hand.

Elros glanced at him.

“Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

Albus chuckled.

“I don’t have a mother.”

Elros was momentarily taken aback, not quite sure how to respond to that statement.

In the background, Poet Iraeta spoke with a touch of admiration, “In the past, when rumors circulated about me having an affair with a widow, I’d quietly spread gossip that I had kidnapped the Member of Parliament’s daughter and was suspected of murdering a merchant. I even found myself entangled in rumors involving human meat pies, and my neighbors mysteriously vanished.

“As long as I don’t care about my reputation and actively tarnish it, no one can perch on the moral high ground and point fingers at me.”

As expected of a poet… Lumian praised inwardly. Holding the carbide lamp, he led the way through the room filled with wax statues, their goal being the exit at the far end.

The wax figures, illuminated by the dim yellowish light of the gas wall lamps, appeared unnervingly lifelike. Their eyes seemed to follow Lumian and his companions, creating an unsettling and bizarre atmosphere.

Lumian couldn’t shake the memory of the previous wax statues that had come to life and attacked. He couldn’t help but feel that any of these figures could suddenly spring to life and lunge at them.

Breaking the indescribable silence, Albus Medici

spoke in a relaxed tone, addressing Elros, “You’re Poufer’s cousin. Your last name isn’t Sauron, is it?”

Elros candidly admitted, “You’re right.”

Albus casually inquired, “Which family do you belong to?”

Elros turned her head to look at Albus Medici and then at Lumian. She replied with a smile, “My full name is: Elros Einhorn.”