The Cave of Alchemy

After saying those words, Lord Gajeel left without answering any of the questions they had in mind, leaving them all staring at the cave.

The first person to step forward was the boy with an unwavering smile on his face.

He exuded pure confidence with every step he took. Next was Beatrix, followed by the shorter boy beside her, who looked younger than all of them.

Iris followed, and soon, everyone began heading into the cave. As the first person stepped inside, a scenario similar to when Art descended the stairs occurred. Different glowing designs appeared on the walls and ground, illuminating the cave.

The deeper they went, the brighter the cave became. Even though it was a beautiful sight, it still felt eerie. After all, this was a cave—you never knew what might be lurking inside.

Art, having experience from several horror movies in his previous life, made sure to stay somewhere in the middle, occasionally glancing back at the last person—a girl who was visibly shaken.

He couldn't blame her. Not every part of the cave was touched by the light.

His reason for looking back at her was simple—she was the best candidate to get snatched by some lurking creature. If that happened, he was ready to act.

Tess wasn’t too far behind, so he smiled at her, and as expected, she lowered her head.

‘You little villain, using someone as bait,’ a disapproving voice echoed in his mind. He still wasn’t used to the warmth of her presence—just like his bed. At this point, he had gotten accustomed to her being in his head.

‘By the smile on your face, it seems like you missed me a lot. And comparing me to your bed... tsk, tsk, tsk—looks like you've gotten naughtier.’

She sounded amused, and the smile that had subconsciously formed on his lips vanished.

Satisfied with his reaction, she chuckled.

Art couldn’t tell how old the person in his head actually was. Even though it was the same voice, sometimes she sounded like someone his age, while other times, she seemed to be in her twenties.

‘Trying to guess a woman's age? That’s not very nice.’

The way she said it, Art imagined a pouting face, which made him shake his head.

‘You wake up from your slumber, and the first thing you do is read my mind. That’s not very nice,’ he retorted. Normally, he spoke out loud, but with about 40 people around him, he opted for internal communication.

‘It’s not as if I read it on purpose,’ she defended herself, though Art didn’t believe a word.

‘You do!’

‘I don’t!’

‘You do!’

‘I don’t!’

‘You do!’

‘I do not!’

“You know what, just stop.” He accidentally voiced this out, causing everyone to halt and look at him.

Feeling all their gazes on him, his mouth twitched in embarrassment, though his aloof expression didn’t waver.

“Never mind. I thought I saw something,” he said in a deep voice that echoed through the cave. Then, he resumed walking, and the others followed suit.

“Tch,” Frigga sneered before looking forward.

‘Look what you did,’ Art muttered internally, clearly annoyed.

‘B-But what did I do?’ she asked innocently, making him forget his frustration.

If she could influence him this much with just her voice, what would happen if she had a physical form?

Without a doubt, she was dangerous.

He wanted to ask about her true identity, but he doubted she would give him a straight answer. She’d probably say her favorite phrase—

‘You’re still too weak.’

‘There she goes again. You’re literally reading everything I think. I thought you could only see some of my thoughts.’

‘When your thoughts are directed at me, it’s easier to read. And honestly, I’m getting quite the headache. I know it’s hard, but can you think about me less?’

That was it—he was done with her teasing. Even though he was much older than sixteen in his mind, she somehow made him feel younger.

Still, he needed to focus on the task at hand. But, of course, she wasn’t done.

‘I see you guys want to get those weapon thingies.’

sigh

‘With your current state, I hope you won’t be getting a screwdriver,’ she said before bursting into laughter. Art’s eyebrow twitched at the mental image of him holding a screwdriver.

‘Don’t you dare jinx me!’

‘Oops!’ she exclaimed childishly.

They had been walking for some time when they finally came across something—a wall with six paths. Three on the left, three on the right.

Even the boy with the confident smile frowned slightly.

“What the... Is this part of the ceremony? A test?” a boy asked, worried.

“I think so. It seems like we have to choose the right path,” another voiced out.

“But damn, how do we do that?”

“Does this mean if we choose the wrong path, we fail?”

“Why weren’t we informed?”

The murmuring continued until the confident boy, who now seemed to be their leader, spoke up.

“I believe it would be better if we split into six groups. Hopefully, choosing the wrong path won’t disqualify us.”

Nobody objected, so he continued.

“I would have liked us to vote for group leaders, but we don’t have time for that. I’m sure most of you can feel it—the deeper we go, the more we’re being affected.”

Some people nodded in agreement, while Art smiled wryly. ‘Am I that weak to not notice?’

He expected his guide to add a remark, but she remained quiet.

“So,” the boy continued, “I’ll be appointing six leaders based on my observations. I know I’m in no position to do this, so I ask for your cooperation.”

He bowed his head while saying the last part, and most people nodded in agreement. Then, he began selecting.

First, he pointed to Iris. Second, Beatrix. Third, Frigga. The remaining two were people Art didn’t recognize—one boy and one girl. The last leader, of course, was himself.

“Must feel nice calling the shots,” a boy beside Art muttered.

Art turned to look at him. The boy seemed drowsy, as if he hadn’t slept all week.

He had messy silver hair that partially covered his left eye. Handsome, lean, and slightly younger-looking, his purple eyes carried the weight of the world—like someone who had just been freed after years of burden.

He looked at Art. “Nishe to meeth yo—hwaaaaaahh!” He couldn’t even finish before yawning.

People began choosing their leaders. Most wanted to follow the confident boy, but he evenly distributed them.

“Come on, Arty—why don’t you join my group?” Frigga smirked evilly.

Before Art could reply, someone unexpected spoke up.

“No! He’s mine.”

Everyone turned to see Beatrix walking forward with a smile.

“What are you doing?” the short boy beside her asked, but she ignored him.

‘What does she want?’ Art’s brows furrowed. He didn’t appreciate being claimed.

She got close, leaning forward.

“What do you say? Want to join my group?” Her eyes were filled with expectation.

She looked... cute. Unlike her usual dangerous aura.

Seeing no harm in it, Art nodded.

Her smile brightened. The jealousy in the air was almost visible, especially from Frigga and some of his buddies.

“I don’t think—”

Before Frigga could finish, Beatrix’s expression shifted. A chilling killing intent spread, causing some to instinctively step back.

“Not bad,” the leader boy muttered with a smile.

“Let’s go.” Beatrix grabbed Art’s hand, pulling him away.

He tried to free himself, but her grip was too strong.

“I hope I’m not hurting you,” she asked, genuinely concerned.

Art didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. If this had been two weeks ago, his wrist would’ve snapped.

As the groups prepared to move, someone interrupted.

“WAIT!!!” a girl shouted.

Gaining their attention, she continued, “Remember Lord Gajeel’s words? ‘Keep moving forward into your destiny.’”

Everyone stared blankly. ‘And so?’

She sighed and walked toward the wall. Then, she hit it—and was instantly sucked in.