Chapter 10: “That Time My Blood Tried to Boil Me From the Inside”
Chapter 10: "That Time My Blood Tried to Boil Me From the Inside"
—In which we learn poison is not a recommended skincare treatment.
So, turns out the group of players we found weren't seasoned soldiers, special ops, or ancient wizards cursed into teenage forms.
Nope. High schoolers. Just like us.
Their leader was a tall, tanned guy with messy hair and the kind of grin that made you want to either high-five him or shove him into a locker.
"The name's Jay," he said, proudly crossing his arms. "Resident waterbender. You guys thirsty?"
He raised one hand, and a burst of water swirled from thin air into a full, rolling wave beneath his feet. He surfed it about five feet down the corridor and back with a smug look, like he was waiting for applause.
Diana, still covered in tar-like shadows, gave him a slow blink. "Neat trick, Avatar."
"I know, right?" he said, hopping off the water with a splash. "Got the power like ten minutes in. Super rare. Probably destined to be the Chosen One or something."
"Yeah," I said, nudging Alex with my elbow, "he's definitely the main character of his own anime."
Alex deadpanned, "I give him ten minutes before he faceplants into a spike trap."
Jay either didn't hear us or chose to ignore it. "Anyway, these are my guys."
He motioned toward his crew.
There was Marco, the quiet, intense-looking one with buzzed hair and a long coat he clearly thought made him mysterious. He nodded once, arms folded.
Tariq, short and wiry with twitchy hands and an energy drink vibe. He didn't say much, but he watched everything, especially Diana's tar form, with hawk-like interest.
Leo, a big dude with soft features and a hoodie that said 'Punch First, Ask Later'. He looked like he'd be the first to run into a wall and the last to notice.
And then there was Aiden, a glasses-wearing beanpole who kept scribbling notes on a magically glowing notebook and muttering things like "dungeon pattern variation observed: check."
"Your team's got five too?" Jay asked, glancing around.
I paused. "Uh, four."
Diana gave me a quick look but didn't speak up. Felix was still cloaked, perched up on a ledge above, keeping watch. No reason to mention our invisible ninja just yet.
Smart move, I told myself. Trust was currency here, and we weren't handing out discounts.
"Nice," Jay said, tossing his damp hair like an anime protagonist on a beach episode. "So, your girl's got shadow powers. Respect. And you—" he pointed at me, "—magic missile spammer?"
I gave a modest shrug. "Let's just say I've watched enough video game guides to know the value of homing spells and anxiety."
Tariq let out a snort at that. "He gets it."
"What about you?" Diana asked, nodding at Marco.
He shrugged. "We don't share loadouts with strangers. Not yet."
Diana's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Good. Neither do we."
That earned a grin from Leo. "Dang. Everyone's edgy now."
Alex chuckled under his breath. "You haven't seen edgy until you've watched Chris try to learn a new spell while having an existential crisis."
"Hey," I said. "That was one time. And the spell worked eventually."
Jay rubbed his chin. "You guys seem cool. A lot of the other teams just ran off like headless chickens after the first room. You'd think surviving monster goo would build character."
"You'd think," Diana said dryly.
We hung around, talking, comparing battle scars and near-death experiences. Apparently Jay's team fought a group of Jovocs that exploded in pain and sprayed their blood everywhere like demonic ketchup packets. Aiden said he nearly vomited from the smell.
"Then there was the Black Slaadi," Marco added. "Frogs from hell with laser eyes and tongues that could lift a truck."
I whistled. "And I thought our acid slime moss with eyeballs was gross."
"Slimes and armor in one room?" Tariq asked. "Y'all got unlucky."
"We got teamwork," Diana corrected. "That's how we're still here."
Jay grinned. "Teamwork and monster vaporizing shadow arms, apparently."
I checked the hall clock—because, yes, even the Infinite Palace had disturbingly normal bronze clocks. We'd been loitering almost thirty minutes.
"All right," I said. "Fun's over. We should move on. These hallways don't clear themselves."
Jay gave a mock salute. "See you in the next room, Missile Boy."
"Try not to drown in your own wave," I said with a grin.
As we turned, I felt Felix drop down silently behind us, cloak flickering like a shadow returning to its owner.
"Status?" Diana asked softly.
"Clear," he replied.
We left Team Jay behind, not quite allies, not quite rivals. Just other kids trying to make it through a magic death maze with style, sarcasm, and suspiciously anime-esque powers.
Whatever was next, at least we weren't totally alone in this.
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As the door swung open, we immediately stopped dead in our tracks.
Because just a few feet ahead of us… stood a transparent wall. A barrier. Through it, the room beyond was visible in full, stomach-churning glory.
Inside were twenty creatures that looked like rejected sketches from a horror artist's "too grotesque" pile.
Dretches.
Short, bloated bodies wobbling on disturbingly thin limbs. Their pale, rubbery skin pulsed faintly with swollen veins, and the tufts of wiry hair made them look like bloated goblin grandpas gone feral. Their eyes sloped downward in eternal disappointment, and their mouths never quite closed—too busy drooling or revealing their uneven rows of teeth.
A few of them scratched at each other. One sniffed another's butt. One just stood in the corner, vibrating.
"Those are level fives to sevens?" Alex whispered. "They look like a pile of regret and wet towels."
"And they saw us," Diana said.
Sure enough, all twenty Dretches had turned. They sprinted toward us in a crooked stampede of flailing claws and teeth, smashing into the barrier like kids trying to lick a candy store window.
BOOM! THUMP! SCRAAAAAPE!
The transparent wall held, but the sound sent shivers down my spine.
"So, uh…" I said slowly, "this room's sponsored by nightmares."
"They can't reach us," Alex noted, eyes locked on the barrier.
"Yet," I said. "It's always yet."
"We learned our lesson," Diana said, stepping back carefully. "No standing near the walls this time."
"Good," I said. "Because I am not getting slapped by a level seven goblin boil again."
Felix, still cloaked, landed silently beside us. "I'm making everyone invisible. We don't know what activates this room, but we're not taking chances."
We nodded.
With a soft ripple in the air, he touched each of us. Shadows shimmered, the light bent strangely, and then we were gone.
Diana's black tar magic clung to her invisibly, giving her a weird floating sheen for a second before vanishing entirely.
"Alright," I whispered. "Let's close the door and see what happens."
With one last look at the Dretches—who were now aimlessly clawing at the barrier, like enraged toddlers who'd lost their snacks—I reached out, carefully pulled the heavy door shut, and let it click into place behind us.
FWOOM.
The barrier shattered like glass turning into mist.
The monsters screamed.
But we were already invisible.
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There are some monsters that make you question your sanity.
And then there are Dretches.
You'd think with all our magical powers and invisibility buffs, we'd be cool and composed. Pros. Untouchable badasses.
But no. This was pure, chaotic, stinky terror.
As soon as I closed the door and the barrier shimmered out of existence, the Dretches charged forward—only to find nothing but air.
They flailed around, sniffing and shrieking, claws dragging along the polished marble floor, as we held our breath and stuck to the shadows.
"Distance," I whispered. "We keep all the distance."
"Already on it," Alex replied, fingers glowing faintly blue.
Diana didn't even bother answering. Her tar magic had already slithered ahead, silent and horrifying. From the ground, it bubbled and formed a wide, snarling mouth with jagged, oil-slick teeth.
CHOMP.
The first Dretch never stood a chance. It was swallowed whole—head, arms, and all. Then its body twitched and—
FWOOOOF.
It exploded into a greenish gas cloud that smelled like expired fish, burnt plastic, and betrayal. We all gagged. Thank the gods we were not standing close.
"Okay!" I shouted, launching a triple barrage of magic missiles at the next one. "New rule! No touching the dead bodies!"
"Copy that!" Alex replied, releasing a wide arc of wind-infused energy. His wave split through three Dretches, slicing them down the middle like monstrous marshmallows. The bodies hit the ground and—
FWOOF. FWOOF. FWOOF.
Green fog geysered into the air.
We were painting the room in poison.
Felix stood at the back, as always—silent, invisible, motionless. The only reason I knew he was there was the occasional shimmer as he reinforced our invisibility buffs. I think I saw his outline sigh once, like "Why am I babysitting a bunch of splashy spellcasters?"
Can't blame him. Melee guys like him were basically on the bench until they could get some gas-proof armor or monster-proof dry cleaning.
Meanwhile, Diana's black maw grew wider and wider, stretching from floor to ceiling.
It didn't just bite anymore—it devoured, like some ancient beast with a taste for demon pudding. Five more Dretches vanished inside its gullet, their dying screeches cut short by bubbling acid sounds.
And then came the glorious explosion of gas again.
We were stacking up so much poison that the room began to look like a rave gone wrong. Green fog swirled through the marble hall like a toxic dance floor, lit by flashes of blue light and black magic.
"Just saying," I muttered, blasting another one with a precision ice dart, "this would make a great 'Don't do drugs' ad."
Alex snorted. "Only if you want to traumatize people forever."
By the time the last Dretch popped like a rotten balloon, the entire battlefield was filled with swirling fog and sticky footprints. The team regrouped silently, careful not to breathe too deep.
Diana's darkness curled back into her, her expression tired but pleased.
"We're alive," I said. "We're invisible. We're also surrounded by demon fart gas. But we're alive."
"Next time," Alex said, holding his nose, "I vote we fight wind monsters. Or birds. Anything that doesn't explode when it dies."
Even Diana nodded.
Felix didn't say anything. He just kept our invisibility running, like the ghost of common sense watching over a bunch of battle-hyped teenagers.
"Poison" Felix whispered.
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"Out, out, OUT!" Chris shouted.
Nobody argued. As the last Dretch corpse let out its death-fume finale, the team bolted. Felix dropped the invisibility spell just as they barreled out of the fog-choked room and stumbled into—
Light. Space. Music.
"What the...?" Diana muttered, blinking rapidly.
They weren't in a hallway anymore. They were standing at the edge of a grand ballroom, domed high with floating chandeliers that shimmered with gold and stardust. Stained glass windows reached from the floor to the ceiling, depicting strange mages in battle, sacrifice, and study. Rich red carpets lined the floors and glowing runes pulsed gently in the tiles.
But that wasn't the shocking part.
The room was full of people.
Players. Dozens of them. Talking, laughing, limping, bartering. The room had been turned into a bazaar, with stalls formed out of magically floating stone or half-conjured cloth. Wooden carts rolled on their own, displaying shimmering wares—potions, weapons, glowing orbs, maps that tried to bite your fingers.
There were signs carved in floating glyphs:
"Buy 2 Potions, Get 1 Temporary Shield Free!"
"We Fix Cursed Items."
"Golem Hand For Sale – 800 Palace Credits, Slightly Used."
As the group stood there, trying to process the sudden change of atmosphere, a familiar, disembodied voice echoed above them—smooth, casual, and absolutely smug.
"Congratulations, wanderers. You have passed the first test and taken your first steps on the path of magic. You now stand in the Market of the First Floor, a designated Safe Zone within the Infinite Palace."
A shimmering arcane sigil lit up above the ballroom's grand chandelier. The voice continued:
"Here, you may buy, sell, and trade. Use the currency of this world—Palace Credits. You may acquire credits by selling monster parts, identifying unknown relics, or completing hidden tasks."
"Our staff—healers, blacksmiths, and merchants—are at your service. You may ask them questions. You may use their skills."
"But a warning: Do not attack the staff or any fellow player while in the Safe Zone. Such actions will invoke consequences... consequences worse than death."
At that, the chandeliers flickered once with deep, ominous red light.
"And lastly, remember: The Infinite Hallways are not for aimless wandering. Those who loiter too long will be found by the Guardians... and they do not appreciate tourists."
The voice faded. A jingle played. It was disturbingly cheerful.
The team let out a collective breath.
"Well," Alex said, adjusting his coat, "it's official. We've entered the RPG equivalent of a shopping mall."
"Except it might eat us if we mess around," Diana added flatly.
Chris nodded slowly. "Still… this is good. We're safe. We can sell those armor pieces and weapons. Maybe upgrade. Heal."
"And Felix can finally get some gear," Diana added, glancing toward the quiet rogue, who was now visible again, still watching everything like a statue with trust issues.
Felix said nothing, but his eyes flicked toward a stall selling cloaks and daggers.
"Alright," Chris said. "Let's go to the healer."
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Let me just start by saying: I hate poison.
I used to think I hated broccoli. Or surprise math tests. Or when someone leaves just one second of YouTube ads before the skip button. But no—none of that compares to the pure, skin-crawling, internal napalm that is magical poison.
One minute we were wrecking weird goblin-looking things with claw-hands and bad dental plans (a.k.a. Dretches), and the next I'm standing there thinking:
"Huh. Is my blood… boiling? Like, literally?"
Then Diana started scratching her arm like she was trying to claw her way to another dimension, Alex's eyes went full anime-glossy, and Felix—poor Felix—made a sound that I hope never to hear again. Kind of like a dying blender crossed with a sea lion.
"Guys," I said, trying to be calm, "we need to go. Now. Out. Emergency."
"Agreed," Diana said through clenched teeth. Her tar magic was bubbling. Which was, y'know, alarming.
"Where's Felix?" Alex asked.
Cue dramatic anime slow-motion. Felix was doubled over, retching like a cat with a cursed hairball. His face had gone as pale as the marketplace's marble floors.
"Alright, I got him!" I swung him over my shoulder like a backpack full of bad decisions, trying very hard not to breathe in the same air he was projectile vomiting into.
We dashed through the ballroom, following signs like "✨Healing this way!✨" and "Don't Die Today ➜".
Let me tell you—healing rooms? Not what I expected.
No glowing temples. No ancient monks. No, the place looked like someone gave an emergency room a fantasy glow-up: beds lined with magically cooling sheets, bottles of glowing liquid floating in the air, nurses with floating clipboards and healing staves barking orders like they worked part-time as drill sergeants.
And we were not alone.
Dozens of other players were already inside—clutching their stomachs, wheezing, or covered in varying degrees of purple rashes. I recognized one guy from earlier (part of the "Wave Rider" team) curled into a fetal position and whispering, "So much gas… so much…"
Yeah. It turns out that final room had taught everyone a very important lesson:
Monsters can fart you to death.
One of the nurse-assistants—a middle-aged woman with pointy glasses and exactly zero patience—looked up as we stumbled in.
"Symptoms?" she snapped.
"Poison gas. Skin burning. One vomiting wizard," I reported like a good little boy scout.
She waved a hand, and two floating med-crystals zipped toward us like caffeinated hummingbirds.
"Lay him on the cot. First-time exposure? You get a freebie. Don't expect that again." She gave me the kind of look teachers reserve for "smart kids who just did something stupid."
Felix was whisked away faster than a cat being offered tuna. Diana and Alex were already being guided to nearby healing pods—yes, pods, like we were Pokémon getting sent to Nurse Joy.
Me? I got sat in a chair and handed a cup of glowing green tea.
"Drink. Detox blend," a nearby assistant said. "Tastes like sadness and algae, but you'll live."
He wasn't kidding. It tasted like regret and expired spinach, but the burning eased within seconds. My skin stopped itching. I even stopped panicking that my internal organs were going to wage war against me.
Healing complete. Status: Alive. Slightly traumatized.
Around me, the chaos of magical ER drama continued, but I leaned back in my chair, watching my team slowly return to normal.
Alex gave me a thumbs-up from inside his pod. Diana was muttering something about suing the palace for skin damage. Felix… well, he was unconscious, but at least he wasn't vomiting anymore.
Honestly, not a bad outcome.
We survived our first real monster gas chamber.
We didn't die.
We got free healthcare.
What more could you ask for in a deadly magical survival game?