"I’m glad we got that out of the way," Thalso said, his tone shifting toward formality. "Now, another warning. Everything in this castle must be earned."
Kaedros didn’t fully grasp what that meant, and frankly, he didn’t care. He was filthy, hungry, drained in body and mind. And he wasn’t the only one. Taria looked like she had crawled through a desert storm, limping on her right leg with dried blood staining her armor.
Only Rauk looked somewhat refreshed, thanks to Keeper’s strange healing.
"So..." Taria licked her parched lips. "Drink?"
Thalso nodded and turned toward one of the many tall doors lining the stone hall. "The doors on these walls lead to different parts of the house. Each with its own purpose. Some will not open to you until you earn the right. And be careful of the ones that do open willingly."
He pushed the door open. "This is the Garden. You’ll find food and water here."
They followed him through,and immediately stepped into what looked like a forest.
"What?" Taria blinked, stunned by the massive trees, some as wide as towers, their sprawling branches stretching into the misty heights.
The rustle of leaves and the chirping of birds mingled with the soft buzz of insects. The air was fresh, earthy, and alive.
"Where is this?" Rauk whispered, amazed. If he hadn’t walked through a castle door just seconds ago, he would’ve sworn this was a natural forest.
He turned to look back, but the doorway had vanished, only a faint shimmer marked its boundary.
"Is this still the castle?" Kaedros asked warily. He couldn’t even Imagine the type and amount of power that was in use.
"Yes," Thalso replied. He gestured broadly with both hands, motioning to the rolling hills in the distance. "The castle is alive. And vast. No one knows how large it truly is, not even the Master. There are places within Throne of Ruinlight no one has ever set foot in."
"Don’t listen to his chipper lies, kids!" a familiar voice called out.
Thalso sighed audibly through his helmet.
High in the branches above them lounged the chef, perched on a frail-looking limb with her dusty robes billowing lazily and her ever, present bottle in hand.
She pointed at Thalso with a finger that swayed. "What are you doing here? I don’t have fruit for you!"
"I’m not here for your food, Chef," Thalso said with weary patience. He gestured toward the group. "They are. They said they’re thirsty."
Chef snorted and took a loud gulp from her bottle. "Are they now? It’s been a long time since anyone got fruit for free."
"She’s... the Chef?" Taria asked uncertainly, her eyes flicking between the tree-climbing woman they met earlier and the kitchen knife strapped to her back. It felt like a trick question.
"Yes. She used to cook. Now she tends to the Garden," Greylord explained. "This was once the kitchen, where meals were prepared for thousands every day. There was always a feast. Always."
"What changed?" Kaedros asked. All he could see were trees, soil, birds... and a deeply unstable woman with a knife.
Chef floated down, her robes curling like smoke around her feet as she landed. "Throne of Ruinlight changed. Fewer people came. The Castle decided it didn’t need a kitchen anymore, so it became a garden instead. Apparently, everyone here just eats fruit now."
Kaedros still couldn’t believe that the castle was alive and even making decisions.
"I love fruit," Taria said, almost hopefully.
Chef glared at her and shook her bottle with a grunt. "No one asked your opinion, girl. What’s it to me if you like fruit? Not like you’ll be tasting any."
"But... didn’t he bring us here to eat?" Taria asked. Her stomach growled, and she gripped her broken spear defensively.
Chef let out a shrill laugh that rippled through the trees. They swayed as if responding to her mirth. "Didn’t he tell you? Everything in Throne of Ruinlight must be earned. Even your food."
Kaedros narrowed his eyes. "Is that why we were tested by the Keeper? For the right to enter?"
"Yes," Thalso said with a nod.
"So... what’s the method of testing? Are we supposed to defeat our opponents?" The moment Kaedros said it, the entire forest stilled.
The birds stopped chirping.
The wind stopped blowing.
Even the leaves held their breath.
Thalso turned his helmet slowly. Chef gave a disbelieving cackle and clapped her hands.
"You want to defeat your opponent? Maybe one of the underlings, sure. But who are you planning to beat? Keeper? Or me?" Her laughter rose again, echoing eerily through the trees.
Kaedros clenched his jaw but didn’t speak. He had no advantage here, his mana was nearly gone, his body exhausted. Even at full strength, Keeper had overwhelmed him easily while holding back himself.
"Don’t worry," Greylord said. "You won’t fight more than you can handle. Throne of Ruinlight is... balanced. The trials will match your strength."
Skepticism laced every word of his voice. "That said, I don’t think we have anything weak enough for you to face right now. Your group is... too weak."
"Keeper was far more than we could handle," Taria admitted.
"He fought you at your level," Thalso replied evenly.
"If that was our level..." Taria shook her head. "I don’t want to imagine what higher ones are like."
"So who are we fighting for food?" Rauk asked cautiously. His ribs still ached. He didn’t want another broken bone so soon.
Chef spun toward him. "Who do you think? Hm? Maybe I’ll fight you myself, it’s been a while since I used my knife."
"You will not be fighting them, Chef," Greylord said, his tone sliding between a command and a plea. But only one carried weight.
Chef pouted like a child denied a toy. "Why not? I haven’t had a proper fight in ages!"
Then her eyes darkened, becoming obsidian stones. Her tone turned venomous. "Thalso... know your place. This is my room. I’ll do as I please."
She snorted and wagged her fingers at him. "Of course I won’t fight them. I’m not breaking the new toys just yet."
Her smile was wild, a slash of madness on her small round face.
And then, like mist in the wind, she disappeared again, leaving only the rustle of leaves behind.