The Echo of the Broken Compass

Dawn peeked into the cave mouth as Ryo stepped onto the rocky ledge that marked the temple's exit. He inhaled the mountain air—cold and rough as menthol sandpaper on his throat. Behind him, the others filed out: Toru first, adjusting his cloak; Yuna shoving Gumi-chan into her clear little backpack; the three ex-bandits—Sugi, Chio, and Doi—arguing over who had the most heroic scratches; and bringing up the rear, the compass pulsing on Ryo's chest with its now-familiar rhythm.

Outside, the "natural staircase" up Mount Eye zig-zagged along a wall of black granite, half lost in low clouds. At the summit a turquoise light pulsed every few seconds, the lazy wink of a supernatural lighthouse. The oculo in Ryo's bag vibrated now and then, reminding him that the first seal of the broken compass— or something worse—waited above.

He checked the device:

[Compass] Wisdom II: 0 % • Protection I: 75 % • Gumi-chan affinity: friendly (sticky).

"Okay, compass," he muttered, "if only I knew how much pain it takes to fill that meter … you listening?"

[Compass] I'm listening.

The words flashed back at him. "Great. Quick reminder: no toxic-confetti explosions today, deal?"

No reply. The needle spun as though giggling at gravity.

The climb began. No carved path—just ledges and knotted roots. Wind gusts ripped their breath away; even Sugi, who bragged about his "brave heart," clung to the rock like a desperate koala.

Yuna, meanwhile, bounded upward. Gumi-chan formed a sticky glove on her palm, each hand-hold ending in a cheerful plop. Ryo envied her; his Courage I recharged slowly and his new boots were starting to complain.

Halfway up, a roar echoed across the slopes. Out of shredded clouds wheeled a stone griffin—once the mountain's guardian—flailing in agony. Chunks fell from its wings; hollow screeches raked the sky. It smashed into a crag, pulverized, and left a vibrating echo among the peaks.

Toru's eyes narrowed. "That creature guarded this mountain decades ago. Its suicide means corruption has reached the summit."

"Corruption, you say?" Ryo forced a grin. "So, turning back isn't an option, huh?"

The compass buzzed a terse NO. Yuna giggled.

The ledge narrowed: hundred-meter drop on the left, scorched-glass wall on the right. Suddenly the needle jerked—straight at the cliff face.

"Don't tell me there's a secret door here."

They bunched up. Sugi tapped with his sword hilt—hollow. Ryo pressed, slid a panel aside, and revealed a narrow tunnel lit by turquoise crystals.

"Halves the climb," Toru marveled. "Not on any old map."

"Maybe it's not a shortcut—maybe it's a trap," Chio whispered.

"We're going anyway," Ryo decided. "Between falling and dying in a trap, I prefer the trap—I can at least complain."

Inside, the tunnel rose gently. Crude runes—smirking faces, arrows in all directions, graffiti reading Told you so—lined the walls. The floor crunched like crushed glass.

After five minutes the compass pinged:

[Compass] Absurd Joke Door in 30 m.

"Promising," Ryo groaned.

Torch-crystals flickered. Gumi-chan clung to each one, sipping sparks, glowing like candy.

Sugi yelped. "The wall's moving!"

The rock behind them slid shut. The passage tilted downward—mountain-coaster style. Stomachs lurched: Yuna screamed half terror, half delight; Toru roared "By all druids!"; the bandits bleated like goats.

The floor slicked; everyone slid. Halfway down, Courage I auto-triggered—three heroic seconds:

"Whoever designed this had too much sugar!"

No puddle, no kick—just a clown-mouth door swallowing them. They skidded into a vast hall of mirrored tiles. The ceiling vanished into darkness. The door slammed; canned laughter echoed.

They staggered upright. A blue message flashed:

[Compass] Welcome to the Distorted Mirror Court. Rule: trust nothing obvious.

"Bones still inside," Ryo panted.

Sugi pointed: reflections lagged—Ryo's mirror raised its arms while he stood still; Yuna's hopped on one foot; Gumi-chan appeared as a crowned mini-dragon blowing bubbles.

Chio tossed a stone. Its reflection bounced like a ball and vanished. Metallic laughter shook the room; lights blinked.

Reflections rose as liquid-crystal clones—dozens, laughing with tin-can voices, gliding without footsteps.

"This… will hurt," Ryo said, gripping the compass like a throwing star.

Toru unfurled a scroll; flaming runes wrapped three clones, bursting them into confetti. Sugi stabbed—blade passed through mirror-foam. Yuna shrieked as a giant clone grabbed; Gumi-chan plastered the face, slurped it flat.

"Don't fight with force—use weird moves!" Ryo recalled the Laughing Shadows.

He poured water in a circle and danced a waka-waka; his clone slipped, shattered. Others followed: Sugi helicopter-rolled, Chio leaped with war-laugh, Doi crossed his eyes—clones popped in snickers.

Soon shards littered the floor. The tiles melted, revealing a turquoise spiral drain; remaining clones tumbled in. Silence.

Green digital confetti:

[Compass] Protection I 100 % – new skill: Guard Aura (minor improv-damage reduction).

Ryo dropped to a knee. "So next fall only half the bones break."

"That's how improvement starts," Toru rasped. "Die a bit less each time."

An archway lit at the far end; wall crystals blinked arrows.

[Compass] Final chamber. Option: retreat or advance.

"Retreat would be sensible," Ryo said. "But we're in a comedy novel—so we know the answer."

They pushed on. The final chamber opened to a natural dome under gray sky. Floating hex-platforms formed broken stairways. At the center stood a petrified black-stone dragon streaked with electric blue veins, eyes closed as if holding storms.

Compass chimed crimson:

[Compass] Final Guardian: Kairo, Stone Dragon. Status: half-latent. Compass repair ► possible via bond.

"Talk to a house-sized dragon that might eat me," Ryo muttered. "Must be Tuesday."

Sugi cupped his hands. "Hey, big guy! Wake up!"

Silence—then stone groaned; a sapphire eye cracked open. Breath hissed—forge-hot bellows—rattling the platforms.

"Who dares disturb me with so many voices and so little respect?" a thunder-voice boomed. The compass translated straight into Ryo's head.

Ryo stepped forward, three borrowed seconds of courage. "We're, uh, lost travelers! And your trickster god still owes me a user's manual for this compass!"

Epic line—less epic than hoped, but no puddle.

Both eyes flared. "Broken compass… long ages since I saw it."

Toru bowed. "Great Kairo, prime guardian, we seek to mend that relic and seal the corruption devouring your servants."

Runes on Kairo's chest glowed. "Servants… jesters. Free or bound. Will you be different?"

Yuna lifted Gumi-chan. "Look! He helped us clean your mirror!"

The slime bounced, stuck to a chest scale—light blossomed. Kairo lifted a claw, intrigued. "Elastic core intact… curious…"

Ryo seized the chance, brandishing the oculo. It synced with the compass; a beam lanced to Kairo's chest, spreading blue veins, turning stone to living obsidian. Cracks burst like silent fireworks. With a vault-shaking roar, Kairo shed his final crust—an obsidian dragon shot with sapphire fire.

He didn't attack. Instead, he bowed, platforms trembling. "You freed me. Debt incurred. What do you seek?"

Ryo blinked. Borrowed courage still humming, he said, "First, instructions to fix this compass. And maybe… a pair of wings."

A tectonic chuckle rumbled. "Wing lent… compass mended… comes at a price. Climb my back and we shall speak… while we fly."

A triumphant cling from the compass:

[Compass] Secondary objective complete: Guardian bond. Wisdom II charging…

Ryo turned to his crew—wide-eyed. Yuna already waved. "Air-adventure!"

"Imagine the view," Chio breathed.

"Imagine my nausea," Doi moaned.

Ryo snuffed his torch, gazed at the colossal dragon, and felt—just maybe—the compass was guiding them after all, laughter and all.

This time he didn't need Courage I. He smiled—a genuine, unsewn grin—and nodded.

"Alright, everyone… we're riding a dragon. If the trickster god doesn't laugh at this, I give up."

They climbed aboard Kairo. With a cyclone of sapphire wings, they soared into high mist, leaving behind a temple that rang with the endless echo of a compass which—though broken—was finally learning to laugh straight.

End of Chapter 9.