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Chapter 87: Stone Book

That musket-holding monkey was none other than Flintlock. Crap! Would he be able to recognize Alwin or Winal? If yes, then there goes that plan of messing with Gus.

"Yes, I am," said Gus, spraying out bits of muffin and saliva onto Flintlock.

"Say it, don't spray it next time, fella." Flintlock whipped out his tail to wipe up the mess. "So who's this buster you got with ya?"

"This is, Winal. He wants to become the Valedictorian and so I thought he could help us get to the next floor easily."

"That so? Well, as long as he ain't causing trouble then I ain't got nothing to complain about." Flintlock's gaze switched over to Winal. "I advise you to stay away. Me and flames don't mix."

"Sir, yes, sir," Winal responded, using his left leg to salute the Powder Chimp.

Flintlock smiled. " No need for formalities. Just call me Flintlock."

Yes! That ape didn't know that Winal was actually Alwin. His disguise was foolproof. Now all he had to do was come up with a genius plan to mess with them. Then when the coast is clear he would revert back to his Yin-Yang Slime form. Wait. Could he even do that? Alwin knew he could Devolve back into a Dark Slime, but could he choose what he wanted to Evolve back into? Maybe he should have thought this plan through, but the consequences of his actions were the problems of Future Alwin. Right now, he was Present Alwin.

"So what do we need to do?" asked Gus.

"Darned if I know. I’ve only seen this big ol' statue blocking the door. Supposedly you have to prove your worth or some nonsense to get past it. Think you can figure it out, Mr. Valedictorian-to-be."

A life-sized stone statue of an open book stood in the center of the room. The surface of the pages had been polished to a soft, matte finish, yet the carving was so detailed that the chiseled edges of each page seemed thin enough to turn. There were no words, pictures, or anything contained within those pair of pages laid out bare for the world to see.

Winal inched closer to the statue for a better look. Now that he was near it, he could truly appreciate its beauty. From the crevices running down its spine to the eroded edges that formed the borders between every page, they were all detailed by someone who clearly loved what they were making. However, no matter how many times Winal studied it, he didn't find anything resembling a test or a challenge anywhere.

It was time to apply his brilliant deductive reasoning and mindful observation to solve this mystery. If sight didn't work then he'd just have to get creative. To give himself a little bit of a breather, Winal moved even closer to the stone statue and took a good long whiff of it. The air hissed as it filled his ant nostrils, carrying the earthy tang of stone and dust, but mostly dust. A few seconds later, a sneeze exploded from Alwin, echoing throughout the room.

"Gesundheit, pardner," called out Flintlock.

After politely apologizing for his display of uncouthness, Winal resumed his examination of the statue. He had an idea worthy of the Valedictorian-to-be himself. Winal turned his head to the side and leaned in close, his ear hovering just above the cool surface of the stone. He held his breath, straining to catch even the faintest whisper. The sounds of flames crackling filled his ears, coupled with Gus chewing loudly on his number, something muffin. Not exactly helpful. Although it did give him an idea.

Winal angled his head lower, his antennae brushing along the stone pages, mandibles spreading apart. Out from his mouth came a long thin tongue, rubbing itself over the statue. He pressed it flat against the smooth stone surface, his taste buds prickling with every lick. An unpleasant muted taste pervaded his tongue, made worse by the layer of dirt caking the statue. Winal choked back his disgust. No pain, no gain, he supposed. Although what he gained was the knowledge that licking the statue did nothing, not exactly the most useful piece of information.

There was only one last thing that Winal could think of. He got up on two of his back legs, while the two middle legs grasped the sides of the stone statue. The two remaining front legs got to work, their clawed tips sliding carefully along the edges of the carved pages.

No, no, no. This wasn't going to work. Winal couldn't get a good grip on the pages. This was where he modified his approach. Opening his mouth, he brought his right front leg closer and licked it, ensuring that the tip was moist with flaming saliva. Once there was a sufficient amount of drool coating the claws, he placed it back onto the statue's surface and began to flip the pages of the stone book.

"Hold up, you can turn the pages? Ain't that book just for display purposes?" questioned Flintlock.

"Apparently not," retorted Winal, continuing to flick through the pages.

One after another, he flipped through them. They were surprisingly lightweight given that they were made of solid rock. Either way, Winal continued turning each individual page in an attempt to unravel the mysteries that laid before him. Blank page after blank page greeted his eyes. Something felt off about this situation. Wasn't there meant to be a challenge to overcome? Or was this supposed to be part of the test? Finally, he landed on one that wasn't empty. There, inscribed upon it was a simple sentence: 'Knowledge is power.'

And immediately after those words appeared, a flash of golden light shot out from the statue. All three of them squinted as they were momentarily blinded by the glow. After a few seconds of intense flashing, the brightness dimmed to reveal the stone statue coming to life, floating right in front of them.

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"While knowledge is power, you need the power to use that knowledge," said the animated rock. "Welcome to the trial to access the next floor of the library."

"Wait!" Winal shouted.

"What is the trouble, young monster?"

"Are you saying that we haven't even started the trial yet? Then what was flipping those pages all about?"

"To call flipping pages in a book a trial is absurd, young monster. Such a trivial task could hardly be considered a challenge, much less a trial to unlock a new level of the library. Now don't delay, let us begin."

A flash of light consumed Winal's vision—again. The number of times he had his eyes assaulted during his tenure in this academy was astounding. It was a miracle that no one in this school ended up blind. When his sight finally cleared it became evident that Winal may have been more screwed than he thought. Good thing, Gus and Flintlock were here to back him up, right? That was the issue. They were nowhere in sight and he even did a full 360 rotation just to be extra sure. The only things around in this golden void were him and the floating stone book.

"I am not alive, but I can grow. I don’t have lungs, but I need air. What am I?"

"What?" said Winal, confused.

Without any other answer, the stone book began to glow as if it were gathering energy. Its pages fluttered open as if they were made of paper. Pieces of sharpened stone were launched. One after another, they fired forward, faster than Winal could react. All he could do was yelp in surprise. Every projectile stabbed into his body, cracking his carapace, and splintering his exoskeleton. Or at least that was what was supposed to happen, but instead, they disintegrated the moment they came into contact with his body.

What just happened? Why was he not dead? Winal looked his body up and down. Everything seemed intact and on fire. Nothing was out of the ordinary and he still had all six of his limbs. So what was going on? Did he pass the trial already or did he fail? Winal turned toward the stone book for any sort of sign about the status of this trial. Instead, he came face to face with the barrel of an inkpot.

A cascade of jagged stone quills—that was the name of the skill—erupted from its center, each one whistling through the air like sharpened writing instruments of devastation. The moment the multitude of stone quills came into contact with Winal, he instinctively jerked his head back as if they were being pounded into his skull. By the time his brain caught up with everything that was happening, Winal found himself lying on the floor dazed with his face beet red.

It wasn't red because his exoskeleton had been cracked, neither was it red due to the flames he generated. Rather, it was because of the embarrassment of overreacting once again. Winal had taken zero damage, in fact, he didn't even feel the stone quills impact his form. Yet, for some reason, he still ended up on the floor and reacted as if a landslide of stone had assaulted his cranium.

Winal got up and dusted himself off with his two middle legs, the two front legs went up to his mandibles as he coughed into them. "I meant to do that," he said, looking at the stone book.

It didn't react. Unless you count it preparing for another attack as a reaction.

Dozens of stone inkpots emerged from the floating book. They floated up into the air, hovering high above Winal's head. This time he was prepared. The book gave a low, resonant hum, and the ink pots froze for a single heartbeat before hurtling downward in unison. They came crashing down, their pottery shattering against the shimmering golden floor, sending wave after wave of sharp stone quills in every direction. Winal braced for impact, snapping four of his legs up, shielding his body.

The quills wanted to slam into his limbs, to penetrate his chitinous armor, to wreak havoc to his insides, but they simply disintegrated the moment they came into contact with his body. Yup, not surprised at all. Winal was invincible!

Now it was his turn to attack. This Fire Soldier Ant form had its perks—legs, tough armor, being on fire—but it just didn’t feel right. There was a certain comfort in his slime form. Another flash of light consumed his body. His hardened exoskeleton began to melt away, dripping like molten wax before dissolving into a thick, dark liquid. Limbs retracted, his segmented frame folding in on itself as his body shifted and shrank. The light dimmed, revealing a familiar shape—a round, shadowy mass.

Right after that, he activated his Evolution, focusing intently on transforming into a Yin-Yang Slime. His body began to ripple, the inky black of his slime darkening even further, while streaks of brilliant white light coursed through him like veins of luminescence. Finally, the glow subsided, revealing his Yin-Yang Slime form.

Winal prepared his Yin-Yang Blast, separating them into their respective halves. The air grew dense as multiple black and white orbs streaked toward the stone book. The moment they collided, their energies mixing together, merging into a volatile storm of light and shadow, their opposing forces crackling and hissing in defiance. A gigantic explosion enveloped the golden room, swallowing it in a wave of chaos. The explosion rippled outwards shaking Winal to his Core.

Winal was certain that the stone book had been evaporated. If that Fire Ant couldn't handle such a blast then a pile of rocks certainly wouldn't fare much better. And now that the trial was complete, he should be able to leave this place. That was if there even was an exit, to begin with. Was he stuck here for all eternity?

Once the dust cleared, Winal's jaw dropped. There floated the stone book still intact with nary a scratch on it. But that wasn’t all. His gaze lifted, and his shock deepened. Above the defiant book, more stone books floated into view. A towering bookshelf made out of granite casted an ominous shadow over him, the stone books floated onto the shelf, their spines aligning perfectly as if there were an invisible librarian organizing the display.

Winal blinked and panic began to settle in, but then he remembered that he was practically invincible here for some reason. There wasn't a reason to be worried. As the structure was being constructed he took the time to organize his thoughts, sorting them out just like the display right in front of him. The only thing that really troubled him was that weird riddle right at the beginning of the fight. Something about breathing and having lungs. That was certainly weird.

When the last stone book had been inserted into its spot, the bookshelf began to tilt forward. Winal watched as the entire structure fell towards him. With nothing else to do, he waited patiently for it to crush him. There was no way he would get hurt so why bother getting out of the way?

Something clicked inside of that pea-sized brain of his. The puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place: the riddle and how he didn't get hurt no matter what was thrown at him. Winal gulped as the answer dawned on him. Fire. And now, the bookshelf was about to dawn on him and he was in for a world of hurt. One step forward, two steps back.