Chapter 23

The searing pain in his chest failed to waver his anger. Blood gushed out of the brutal wound, pooling under him.

The stalker circled around him, its yellow eyes burning with greed, sniffing at his blood. Yet it didn't rush to fight, as it appeared to be waiting for him to bleed out.

"How cute," Rhys laughed. His flawless regeneration kicked in, the torn flesh and muscles knitting back together at a visible rate.

This process was not without pain. The agonising torment reddened his eyes, and with it, fuelled his fury to unimaginable levels.

The stalker showed a confused expression, glancing at his now half-healed chest. Before it could come to its senses, he rushed again.

Unlike before, he didn't kill it in a single blow. Rather, he started to peel its skin with each movement. He wasn't without injuries, as the monster also grazed him with its claws.

The brutal fight continued, over and over. At some point, Rhys forgot how many times he had killed it. But he perfectly remembered how much he enjoyed this very process.

Each time it revived, it seemed to become a bit more scared, eventually turning to terror. He saw its movements slow, its malevolent aura dimming.

The previous anger in its eyes was replaced by horror. He was winning. Rhys knew it.

Not only that—he was erasing whatever memory caused its creation and imprinting the one he wanted.

Fear.

[The Host's combat style is adapting. Practical experience is being assimilated.]

The System's notifications were a quiet backdrop to the brutal reality of the fight. He was learning. He was understanding.

This Labyrinth wasn't just testing his strength; it was forging it, refining it through endless, repetitive conflict.

After the nth time he plunged his dagger into the creature's heart, the Shadow Stalker dissolved into a cloud of purple particles. He would never forget the gaze it had in that final moment.

Absolute dread.

Rhys didn't forget to give it a wide smile. He looked down at the purple glowing crystal it had left behind.

The moment he touched it, it scattered. A warm and soothing energy rushed into his body. He felt like a drop of liquid falling into a vast ocean, never making further changes.

Rhys frowned.

'It feels familiar.'

Almost like the feeling when the system burned his lifespan—but in reverse. His eyes widened instantly.

'Is that lifespan?'

[Yes.]

He frowned again. That made no sense, considering the monster wasn't real, just a carved memory forged in that way.

'Carved memory, forged in its form. Then what held these forged memories in one place and constantly recreated them again and again?'

Its answer was the crystal he had just absorbed. Lifespan.

Rhys looked around the Ashen Courtyard with newfound interest. If his guess was correct, the monsters here were all created by someone's lifespan.

And this someone might be the creator of the Labyrinth.

There might be stages in cultivation where the lifespan of a cultivator almost reaches that of the heavens.

But there wouldn't be that many cultivators crazy enough to play with their lifespan like the creator of this Labyrinth.

And as far as compatibility was concerned, who in the world could be more qualified to obtain the legacy of this Labyrinth than him?

[Divine coping.]

'What coping? I'm merely stating facts.'

[Whatever you like to think.]

'Hmph.'

Anyway, he was more than excited now.

He spent the next few days exploring the Ashen Courtyard. He had found the perfect way to completely erase the monsters here.

Elicit terror in them.

His fighting style also changed—from sudden assaults to more violent and brutal killing.

Hundreds of monsters had their memories forged into that of a terrifying hunter by him. He collected that many lifespan crystals and stored them inside his pouch.

Using them for himself was useless. He might sell them outside. His perfected navigation helped him create a mental map of this place; now he could traverse the countless identical paths without losing his direction.

Slowly, he was moving toward the centre. He could feel the strength of the monsters increasing as he advanced.

They became more agile and dangerous. But they also started to completely die after four or five deaths.

'So the stronger the monster, the more lifespan required to revive them.'

Not too strange. Surely more lifespan was needed to forge the memory of a stronger monster. This also somehow calmed him a bit.

It may be easier for him to kill these monsters again and again because they weren't strong enough anymore.

But if monsters with bloodlines came into play, he might fail in the battle of attrition.

On this day, after killing the final monster in the inner parts of the Ashen Courtyard, Rhys was resting inside a cave he had carved into the wall and covered with a simple alarm array and concealment formation.

That's when he heard a sound.

A sound so out of place in the silent courtyard that it was almost shocking.

Laughter. Loud, arrogant, and utterly foolish. He facepalmed, recognizing the loudest voice among them.

'Those fools…'

He silently looked in the direction of the voice.

A large group of cultivators, at least twenty of them, crashed through the woods.

They wore the emblems of the Thorne family, their armor clanking, their voices echoing through the dead forest.

At their lead was a young man with a burnished face and an expensive-looking sword, whom Rhys instantly recognised as Tiberius Thorne.

"See? What did I tell you?" Tiberius boasted to his companions. "This Labyrinth is nothing. Just a few stone trees and ashes on the ground. Sure, there are some holes here and there, but if one is not blind, they'll never fall into them."

"Lord Tiberius is wise!" one of his sycophants shouted.

Rhys didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Would he spank this foolish giant's ass and say, 'Fool, there are no monsters because I killed them all! And the holes you see are visible only because I made them that way!'

He slowly shook his head. These fools didn't know what they missed. Lifespan, for Rhys, wasn't that much of a reward, but for them it was a coveted treasure.

He waited until all of them walked into a path that circled back into the outer rings again. He laughed, imagining the group looping from inner ring to outer ring, over and over.

His gaze slowly turned to the last path he hadn't taken. The path to the core ring. An exhilarating glint passed over his lips as he imagined fighting more powerful monsters.