A lone but bright torchlight revealed crimson, oddly scented moss covering the cobbled walls. The moss oozed with thick, red sap, slowly dripping onto the ankle-deep water below.

Two figures walked along the hall, treading along the murky water.

A tall man led the way. His long gray hair was neatly tied into a bun and secured in place with an embroidered, flower-patterned hair net. He wore a pristine white robe adorned with a red rope that hung relaxed around his waist.

Despite his lanky appearance, he carried a massive pole, as thick as an adult’s arm and as tall as two men, with a bright, flickering light on top. The pole’s metal body was beautifully engraved with flowery patterns, similar to the ones on the hair net.

A short girl followed closely behind him, her left hand resting on the handle of her sheetless khopesh, which hung from her waist, mere inches above the water. Unlike the man, she wore simple attire, a linen shirt and a dark ruffle skirt complemented by knee-high boots.

The casual clothes, which many considered unfit to delve into the Labyrinth, would be enough to turn many faces, and yet, what really stood out was her hair.

Her loose and long hair cascaded well past her waist in vibrant green waves. The color deepened to darker, almost blue-tinted shades at the tips, contrasting with the rest of her lively green hair. Two neat braids ran parallel along the sides of her head, meeting at the back, where they were secured by a circular hairpin adorned with a large, octagonal white gem.

Despite her stubborn look, straight back, and focused eyes, baby fat was still left on her cheeks, betraying her actual age.

Elodie consciously avoided biting her lip, trying her best to show a fearless expression. She was made sure not to show any signs of weakness. Hell! Few were the moments in the last dozen years where she had felt fear. She knew exactly how many times that had happened—precisely two.

It was her third time here, on the maze of tunnels under Crete, the capital city of the 5th floor. The first had been on the day she had been rescued, mere hours after she watched her family being slaughtered on the 11th floor.

That was a day she would never forget.

The second was four years ago, shortly after her thirteenth birthday. The last two years of incessantly requesting an audience with the city lord had finally been rewarded. However, her request for him to write her synopsis was rejected. Instead, she had been granted a promise. Six years. All she had to do was endure six years; he would turn her into a draft.

Elodie had no hopes of returning to this maze before that, and yet, just four years later, here she was.

She rubbed her fingers against the pommel of her sword, pretending to polish it while masking her nervousness.

Agape, the man walking ahead of her, stopped suddenly. He let go of the massive pole he had been carrying, which somehow remained standing upright, perfectly balanced, while he turned to inspect a random wall.

I wonder what her Lord saw in him, Elodie thought.

He was no more than a man of letters–a pretty shitty one. She had stumbled upon some of his works inside the Great Library of Alexandria. Terrible poetry. Some of the worst she had ever read.

Not only that, the man was also an alcoholic. It wasn’t rare to find someone calling him a drunk behind his back each time he destroyed a tavern during a drunker stupor. Elodie, however, didn’t dare to. She knew what most others didn’t.

Agape was the Lord’s most trusted servant.

A flash of brilliance momentarily blinded her, and once her vision recovered, she found herself staring at a massive stone gate that had magically appeared on the wall Agape had been inspecting.

The man’s ability to find and summon that magic gate was enough proof of his importance. Few could navigate inside Crete’s tunnels, and even fewer knew the location of his Lordship’s chamber.

Agape effortlessly opened the massive gate and respectfully stepped inside. Elodie bit her lip and followed him, holding her breath.

The chamber was no different than the surrounding tunnels and, despite its size, was mostly empty. It was unbearably hot inside, and water vapor floated above the water, clouding their vision.

As the fog slowly dissipated, she noticed the massive stone throne in the middle of the chamber. It was about ten feet tall, roughly sculpted out of a single piece of black volcanic rock.

In fact, if not for the figure sitting atop it, it could be easily confused with a random boulder one would find lying around on the surface.

The fog dissipated even further, revealing a bald, old man with his eyes closed in deep slumber. He sat completely naked against the bare stone, his spotted and wrinkled skin on display, with bloody ulcers on his back and elbows.

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Occasionally, a single, deep crimson blood droplet would drip out of an ulcer and fall onto the water below.

Absent of their presence, the man was immovable, his pale, bald head buried in his hands, a fine layer of dust covering him. Who knew how long he had been sitting in that position?

Agape tripped and almost fell, regaining his balance right before he fell head-first into the water. Still, his steps caused the water to splash, tainting his pristine white robe with red streaks.

He bowed gracefully, his nose almost touching the water. Elodie stole a quick glance and saw his eyes shining with devotion and adoration.

“My Lord,” he greeted, not daring to move until acknowledged. Elodie remained silent but mimicked his movements.

The man sitting on the throne remained frozen, and Agape’s thick eyebrows became more pronounced as he frowned.

For a moment, he seemed to fear the man wouldn’t reply. Maybe the rivers of time had finally taken him, and now only his empty shell remained. Fortunately for him, that day hadn’t come yet.

An unexpectedly bright and young voice resonated around the chamber.

“Stop with the useless courtesies, Agape.”

Elodie’s eyes followed the source of the voice, coming to rest on the throne.

First, it was a twitch on the man’s pinky finger. Then his ring finger followed, and soon, his whole hand began to tremble. The surge of motion extended rapidly up his arm and through his entire body, refilling it with life.

Finally, the man’s eyes snapped open, revealing a pair of young, fervent eyes.

Agape straightened his back, a smile shining on his face, as he breathed a breath of relief.

“How’s she doing?” He asked.

“Holding on,” the man whispered. His sorrowful words didn’t escape Elodie’s attention. “The Labyrinth’s advancement is eternal. Even if she can slow it down, it is impossible to stop a force of nature.”

Agape nodded at his master's replies with tears in his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel for his master. The greatest warrior to ever bless the Labyrinth was now stuck here, forever wasting away.

“What do you need?” The man asked. “I don’t want to leave her alone for long.”

“I’ve brought Elodie here,” My Lord, he added mentally. “Just as you requested.”

A dry laugh escaped the man’s lips.

“Speak your mind,” he ordered with a wave of his hand.

Agape nervously fixed his robes and cleared his throat before proceeding.

“The mess on the 4th Floor continues. We are waiting for your orders.”

The man closed his eyes and rubbed his temples before scoffing. He knew Outsiders had been searching through the Swamp over the past few days, and now, they had spread themselves too thin.

“They are no longer afraid of us,” he sighed. He didn’t seem annoyed, just tired.

“We haven’t moved for too long, my Lord–,” Agape replied, swallowing his last few words.

“Have our scouts found the gullet?” The man asked, ignoring him.

“No,” Agape replied, lowering his head with shame.

“Don’t worry. The chance of it existing is dim. It must lead into the 3rd Floor instead, otherwise, we would have found it by now.

Agape used his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He knew his master’s words didn’t refer to the last few days but the last millennia. There were no secrets inside the 5th Floor, at least not to his master.

“Wipe them out,” he said with a wave of his hand. “It’s good to remind the Outsiders of Her deal.”

“We will,” Agape acquiesced his orders with a nod.

“You can leave now,” the man ordered. “Wait outside; I want to have a word with my little Verdant.”

Elodie’s heart threatened to jump out of her chest as the man’s eyes came to rest upon her own. She held his gaze valiantly, if only for a second. In the next, she lowered her head and stared at her submerged feet.

It didn’t take long for Agape to leave the chamber after a respectful bow, closing the massive doors behind him and leaving them alone.

“How are the doulos treating you, Elodie?” He asked.

She gritted her teeth.

“I don’t like slaves.”

“Neither do I,” he sighed. “But what should I do with those who violate the frontiers of our land? Kill them?”

Elodie nodded.

“It’s better to live as a slave than to die as a king,” he continued with a smirk.

“And yet, here you are.”

A joyful laugh echoed inside the chamber as the man laughed to his heart’s content.

“Agape would’ve punished you if he knew what you’ve just said,” he said. “He cares too much.”

“It wasn’t a lie,” Elodie quickly replied, as feisty as ever.

This time, the man didn’t answer. Elodie’s hand tightened around the pommel of her sword as the dreadful, tense silence paralyzed her. Maybe she had gone too far. After all, not only was this the man who had saved her, but he was also the ruler of Crete.

“I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered.

“Don’t,” he replied, happily tapping his fingers on the stone. “I like you this way.”

“What do you need me for?”

“I’ll grant you your wish.”

“Now?” She asked, surprised.

“Yes, now. But in return, I need you to do something for me,” he continued, his tone unwavering. “The next Prelude is about to begin, and I need you to kill a drafted.”

“A drafted?” She questioned, not at all bothered by the thought of ending someone’s life.

“Yes. An interesting one,” he replied. “I heard he was a Lazarus.”