“Now this is interesting,” Ling Xuan grinned, taking out the map. Unsurprisingly, the map had changed again, yet Ling Xuan wondered what could’ve been the catalyst.
“Well, let’s get going,” Ling Xuan shrugged and walked forward, following the map’s instructions carefully.
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“How big is this place!” Ling Xuan inwardly complained as he entered another room.
According to Ling Xuan’s inner clock, at the very least four hours had passed, and he was still travelling the labyrinth, entering one hidden passageway after another.
Ling Xuan took a deep breath and looked at the map again. As if sensing his fatigue, new words appeared on the parchment.
“Oi, don’t act sour now, we have nearly reached the end! You only have to complete this room and you’ll enter the place where Amrita was hidden.”
The words encouraged the tired Ling Xuan enough to sigh.
“Alright, gimme the instructions on how to clear this room,” he muttered, focusing on the task at hand.
The map shifted once more, revealing a detailed layout of the chamber he was in. The chamber was circular, with a large, ornate door on the far side. The door was flanked by two towering statues of ancient warriors, their eyes seemingly glowing with an eerie light.
Ling Xuan examined the map once more, the details becoming clearer.
“You have to do two specific things to exit this room,first you have to make it so that the two statues face each other instead of facing parallel. At that moment you will notice that a few words have appeared on the base of each statue, each incomplete. You have to use both sets of words obtained from the statues to create the sentence required.”
He approached the towering statues, their imposing presence almost daunting. The statues were initially positioned to face the centre of the room, standing parallel to each other. Ling Xuan noted the mechanisms at the statues' bases, designed to allow them to rotate.
With careful precision, he began to turn the first statue. The ancient gears creaked in protest, but slowly, the statue moved. He repeated the process with the second statue, aligning them so they faced each other. As the statues clicked into place, a soft hum filled the room.
Suddenly, the base of the two statues began to shimmer with an ethereal light. Words, glowing softly, emerged slowly from the stone, appearing in an unfamiliar script that bore a resemblance to the dialect of The Archipelago but with subtle differences.
“This must be the ancient language that served as the foundation for the local dialect,” Ling Xuan mused, squinting at the cryptic symbols. He attempted to vocalize the inscriptions, but the unfamiliar pronunciation eluded him, and nothing happened.
Frustrated, Ling Xuan sighed and pulled out his map, hoping for a clue. However, the map remained unchanged, its details static and unhelpful.
“What now?” Ling Xuan wondered aloud, his thoughts spiraling into uncertainty. With no immediate solution at hand, he slumped to the ground, his gaze fixed on the mysterious inscriptions.
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Meanwhile, Carto, now in the Library, pushed open the heavy wooden door. The familiar scent of old parchment and ink greeted him as he stepped inside. He saw his trusted bicycle waiting for him and climbed on, the wheels humming softly beneath him as he began to pedal aimlessly. The rhythmic motion allowed him to think more clearly, a method he had come to rely on after countless visits to this strange place.
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“The language must be decipherable,” Carto mused aloud, the words echoing in the vast, book-lined room. “Otherwise, Feng Mui would have given us more guidance.” He furrowed his brow as he pondered the ancient script.
“The First Men of The Archipelago were known for their veneration of The Maitreya,” Carto continued, his mind racing. “Perhaps their language was influenced by this deity. But that doesn’t quite add up.”
He continued to pedal, deep in thought. “Think, Carto, think! There’s something obvious I’m missing.” His mind drifted to Xu Lingyao, who had managed to navigate this labyrinth of puzzles despite coming from The Empire. If she could do it, so could he.
“The Maitreya, Avalokiteśvara Isle, The Sky Traversing Giant—these elements are interlinked. The Maitreya was said to have emerged from the ashes of The Sky Wandering Giant, depending on the translation. So why was The Temple spared from annihilation?” Carto's thoughts surged with clarity. “What if it wasn’t spared? What if The Temple couldn’t have survived at all?”
An epiphany struck him like a bolt of lightning. “The Temple is an impossibility! The First Men, who worshipped The Sky Traversing Giant—who had relinquished his physical form and was represented by the Ashborn—could never have built a Temple. They worshipped through the ash, not through constructed monuments!”
The memory of his visit to The Temple flashed before his eyes—the eerie sight of the naked worshippers, the skulls, the haunting chants. Carto’s understanding crystallised. The key to unravelling the mystery lay in recognizing that the existence of such a Temple was fundamentally flawed.
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Ling Xuan’s eyes gleamed with realisation as he stood before the statues, a smile forming on his lips. He muttered to himself, piecing together the fragments of his insight.
“That crystal skull must have belonged to The Maitreya,” he began, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and certainty. “In a final, desperate act, it cast its own head into the sea beneath the island, where it lay hidden for centuries. The Empire, in its own twisted way, discovered the skull and constructed the Temple as a facade. By providing constant chants, hope, and worship, they deceived The Maitreya, tricking it into believing that its existence was still honoured.Isn’t that right?”
He paused, reflecting on the implications of his revelation. “That’s why The Maitreya was sealed on the island—not because of Xia’s intervention alone, but because its very skull, a crucial part of its being, had been removed. Xia may have restrained its physical form, but the essence, the soul, remained trapped within the skull.”
Ling Xuan’s thoughts raced further. “Even in this state, The Maitreya sought to influence the world. It instigated the legend of Chung Gzug Mar Med, The Sky Traversing Giant. This legend was crafted to try to create rebellion against The Empire.”
Ling Xuan’s mind raced with newfound clarity. “Those chants in the Temple—they’re the key!” he realized. The words he had heard in the Temple, which had seemed like mere ceremonial reverence, were in fact the honorifics of The Creator, transformed into a language that could deceive even The Maitreya. To truly unlock the secrets of the statues, he needed to invoke these honorifics with genuine reverence.
His gaze shifted resolutely towards the statues, their forms looming grandly before him. Ling Xuan took a deep breath, understanding that the essence of worship was not bound by the language but by the intent.
“No matter the tongue, as long as one worships The Creator, all shall be answered,” he declared firmly.
With conviction, Ling Xuan began to recite the ancient honorifics:
“Glory to The Namkha Lamdro’i Jongs Chenpo!” he intoned, his voice resonating with authority. A faint, rumbling vibration coursed through the ground as if acknowledging the invocation.
He pressed on, his words steady and powerful. “Glory to Kun La Jampa Tsal Mkhan!”
The rumble grew more intense, shaking the very foundation of the room. Ling Xuan felt a surge of energy around him as he continued with unwavering faith.
“Glory to Gya Mtsho Drang Mé Khyudpé Chenpo!”
The statues trembled violently, their ancient stone surfaces cracking and crumbling under the force of Ling Xuan’s devotion. Dust and debris filled the air as the statues began to disintegrate, revealing hidden mechanisms within.
And there it was,the door.
“That has to be it!” Ling Xuan thought excitedly and quickly jumped through the door as the room seemingly crumbled the moment he entered.