The city wall crumbled, its bricks forming a new path leading to the next barrier. Beyond it, everything was shrouded in ashen-gray mist, with faint silhouettes of the city's chaotic architecture barely visible.
Ye Bai exhaled, choosing not to waste time exploring the surrounding fog. Instead, she stepped onto the path and approached the wall directly.
Then, a new question appeared:
[Which of the following belong to the subspecies of 'Viroten'?]
[Thorn Horn], [Filieten], [Mokra Leaf], [Sharon Grass], [Cypress Flower], [Rock Bloom]
Earlier, it was racial linguistics; now, it had shifted to an encyclopedia of supernatural flora. The difficulty had increased, with more answer options and trickier questions. If not for Ye Bai's heightened mental acuity, which made her past memories crystal clear, she might not have recalled such obscure classifications.
But even if she didn’t remember, she had a walking encyclopedia—a paper figurine—as her personal hotline.
"The wrong answers are the second and sixth ones," the paper figurine said.
Ye Bai nodded. This was a multiple-choice question where incorrect answers had to be selected.
The penalty system reset with each new question. For the first mistake on a fresh question, only a quarter of her health would be deducted.
Ye Bai placed her hand on [Filieten].
The answer shimmered slightly, but this time, there was no health deduction or error prompt. However, the wall didn’t crumble either, indicating that her first selection in this multiple-choice question wasn’t wrong.
In the Labyrinth of Knowledge, punishment came only for mistakes, not correct answers.
Similarly, multiple-choice questions didn’t require selecting all correct answers simultaneously.
For one, the wall was vast, and the question and answers were large enough that a single person would need to stretch like an octopus to cover all correct options at once.
Moreover, imposing such a restriction would make the timing of selections exploitable. Unless every choice was made at the exact same instant, any slight delay could be deemed an error—an absurdly unfair mechanic. If the Labyrinth’s only viable path were blocked so ruthlessly, it wouldn’t be a legendary-grade spell but a mythical one.
After selecting the first answer, Ye Bai took two steps to the side and touched the last option: [Rock Bloom].
"Crash…"
This time, the wall trembled familiarly before collapsing, revealing the next path.
……
The procession moved forward in oppressive silence. The corpse of Alvin, the Holy Knight who had perished answering a question, was brought beside a wooden crate.
A force emanated from the crate, seeping into the freshly dead body.
"Crack… crack…"
Soon, accompanied by the unsettling sound of shifting bones, Alvin’s skin rapidly turned ashen and withered, while his bones grew sharper and thicker.
"Boom!"
Suddenly, pale flames erupted from Alvin’s body. His eyes snapped open—now replaced by flickering soulfire—and he stood up.
"Neigh—!"
His warhorse whinnied and trotted to his side. The newly risen undead knight placed a hand on his loyal steed, and the pale flames spread, engulfing the horse in moments.
The horse reared, its flesh burned away by the ghostly fire until only bones remained. Then, the flames transformed into black mist, reforming the horse’s flesh.
Under the stunned gazes of the onlookers, the former Holy Knight Alvin and his steed had been reborn as an undead knight and a nightmare mount.
The transformed Alvin paid no further attention to the others. He strode to the wooden crate and knelt on one knee, pledging allegiance to the legendary mage within.
A hoarse voice echoed from the crate: "Death is eternal glory."
The procession fell silent for a moment. Everyone here was a core member of the Holy Loriburg forces. Then, voices rose in unison, reciting the family creed passed down through generations of the Holy Lori lineage:
"Death is eternal glory!"
The march resumed. Having breached the first wall, the army arrived before the second.
The crowd parted, and Alvin stepped forward alone. He pressed his hand against one of the answers.
'-4544'
[Error]
The soulfire in the undead knight’s eyes visibly dimmed, its glow diminished.
Even as an undead, the Labyrinth’s penalty was inescapable.
But the new Alvin no longer reacted to pain. Silent as ice, he didn’t so much as flinch before methodically pressing two more answers.
"Boom…"
After paying the price of one wrong choice, the wall collapsed, unveiling the next path.
Though not flawless, Holy Loriburg’s numbers were their greatest advantage—more attempts meant more room for error. Even if they’d entered later than Ye Bai, their progress was steadily catching up.
……
"Boom…"
Another wall crumbled. The Labyrinth of Knowledge knew no day or night.
"A hundred questions in, and still no breakthrough…" Ye Bai’s breath hitched as she tallied the count.
This "Error Labyrinth" was far vaster than she’d anticipated. The Labyrinth’s question count scaled exponentially by tens. A hundred questions should have been the standard for a legendary-grade spell, but the fact that she hadn’t broken through yet meant the next tier—a thousand—was in play.
At least her supplies and leveling experience were sufficient…
Taking a deep breath, Ye Bai pressed on.
Her journey hadn’t been entirely smooth. Perfect runs were impossible—some questions touched on divine secrets unrecorded in any tome, leaving even the paper figurine stumped. For those, she had to cautiously deduce and test.
Fortunately, such questions were rare. With healing potions and level-ups restoring her health, Ye Bai finally reached the thousandth wall at level 73, having consumed an entire stack of potions.
"Crash…"
This time, the sound of the collapsing wall was different, accompanied by a sudden weightlessness beneath her feet.
The mist swirled. After a brief sensation of falling, Ye Bai landed solid ground. Before her, the path finally opened wide.
She stood in a square, no longer surrounded by the patchwork buildings she had seen before, but by a timeworn, dilapidated plaza. At its center stood a crumbling, tilting statue.
To call it a statue wasn’t entirely accurate—perhaps a ruined throne would be more fitting, as the figure that should have sat upon the slanted seat was gone. If not for the faint traces of carved fabric folds on the armrests and backrest, it would have been impossible to tell that someone had once occupied this throne.
Was this… the statue of a former God King?
The Great Annihilation had caused the God King to ‘vanish,’ erasing all related historical records and books along with Him. Only a handful of powerful beings retained memories of His existence, and the statues erected in His honor by the people of the capital naturally couldn’t endure.
Just then, Ye Bai noticed a flicker of movement beneath the statue’s draped fabric. Before she could react, a small gray figure suddenly threw off its disguise, lifting its head from the corner and rubbing its eyes as if just awakened.
It was a tiny figure clad in a semi-translucent gray cloak, no larger than two of Ye Bai’s fists put together.
Ye Bai stared in surprise at the creature’s appearance. "An elemental sprite? No… a Voidling? But why so small?"
Her astonishment stemmed from the fact that such cloaks, imbued with concealment and disguise properties, were a hallmark of the Voidlings. Normally, Voidlings were similar in size to humans, elves, or the Deep Sea Folk. A creature of this stature was something she associated only with elemental sprites.
At that moment, the Paper Figure’s voice chimed in. "This Voidling… is under some kind of curse. I’m not sure of the specifics, but the third key is in its possession. Since you carry the other keys, it should hand it over to you."
So this was likely the quest-completion NPC. Naturally, Ye Bai prepared to approach and communicate with it, planning to inquire about the curse as well.
Yet before she could get close, the tiny Voidling, now fully awake, flashed a look of sheer terror, yanked its cloak over its head, and instantly blended into the statue beneath it—vanishing without a trace.
Voidlings excelled at stealth, and this chameleon-like ability to merge seamlessly with their surroundings was one of their signature traits.
"Huh?" Ye Bai halted mid-step, baffled by its reaction.
Finally, the Paper Figure pinpointed the issue. "I see it now. The curse on this Voidling… is a fear of knowledge."
"What? A fear of knowledge?" Ye Bai’s expression twisted further in disbelief.
A Voidling—a creature that pursued knowledge—cursed to fear it? This was a complete inversion of its nature! In the game’s lore, the Voidlings were symbols of wisdom, endlessly seeking knowledge across the world.
Only those with profound learning could earn their favor and coax them into conversation. Yet here, the opposite was true.
Ye Bai immediately sensed the difficulty. Forcing the Voidling out or killing it would be easy, but the real problem was the inability to communicate. Gaining knowledge was simple; shedding it was not. She couldn’t exactly empty her mind on the spot.
The Paper Figure added, "But it’s just us here, and the key is present. Given the degree of fear, the person with the least knowledge among us should be able to approach it."
Ye Bai grasped the implication: the least ‘cultured’ one in their group would have to try communicating with the Voidling.
With that thought, her gaze instantly landed on Autofis.
"Eh?"
—Me?
Autofis’s meaning was unmistakable, as if it might lift a hoof to point at itself any second.
Ye Bai nodded in confirmation. Under these circumstances, the best candidate was glaringly obvious. As the game’s creator, she possessed vast knowledge, and the Paper Figure was exceptionally well-read. That left only Autofis as the key to solving this puzzle.
As for translating Autofis’s ‘conversation’ with the Voidling, Ye Bai estimated her comprehension skills were at least Level 5, and Autofis’s expressiveness was another solid 5. Combined, that made for Level 10 Donkey-speak proficiency. Even if Autofis had to relay the information afterward, it should work out!
Under Ye Bai’s eager gaze, Autofis shot her a strange look tinged with something like disdain, shook its head, and then trotted toward the statue with the Life Branch in its mouth.
Nothing happened. The Voidling didn’t reappear.
"……"
Autofis was a cultured donkey after all?! Refusing to accept this, Ye Bai’s expression soured. She then tossed the Paper Figure and the keys toward the statue.
Still, nothing.
Finally, Ye Bai took a deep breath, set the Paper Figure aside in a scroll, and walked over alone.
The next moment, a shimmering figure emerged from the statue as the Voidling tremblingly lifted its cloak.
"……!"
Ye Bai felt as if struck by lightning. In this instant, her emotions mirrored those of Felix when he had once received Autofis’s ‘guidance.’
What? She was actually the least knowledgeable one here?!
