The corridor ended in a smooth stone wall with a small circular opening at its center.
A peephole.
Leo grinned. “See? We’re learning. Last time we charged in blind. This time, we will observe first.”
Harlada floated closer, hands on her hips. “I’m honestly shocked you remembered.”
Bert puffed up proudly. “Attempt Three. Silver run. We’re basically professionals.”
The Maze pulsed.
Observation acknowledged. Overconfidence levels: Nostalgic.
They gathered around the hole, peering through one by one.
The view beyond was dark — a vast chamber, faintly glistening, shapes moving in slow, heavy rhythm.
Leo squinted. “Something’s breathing.”
“Or digesting,” Harlada muttered.
Bert leaned in farther, nearly pressing his nose to the stone. “It’s fine. We’re safe as long as we don’t poke it.”
The Maze pulsed.
Safety condition valid. Note: Foreshadowing detected.
Harlada crossed her arms. “For once, we actually might not die immediately.”
Leo smiled faintly. “I’m not used to this feeling. Is this… competence?”
Bert nodded solemnly. “Feels wrong somehow.”
The Maze pulsed again, uneasy.
Player pride detected. Preparing countermeasure.
***
They took turns at the peephole again, each looking longer than they wanted to.
Inside, something shifted — a glistening shape of vines, tendrils, and wet red petals moving in slow, hungry rhythm.
Harlada leaned back, disgusted. “Flesh-eating plant. Fantastic. Just when I was starting to enjoy my skin.”
Leo nodded grimly. “Aggressive. Definitely alive. Probably reacts to movement.”
Bert frowned. “So… a big angry salad.”
The Maze pulsed.
Taxonomy: Accurate enough. Dietary preference: You.
They all stepped away from the wall in silence.
Harlada crossed her arms. “We’ll need to be smart about this one.”
Leo nodded. “We can’t brute force it. We need a plan.”
Bert crossed his arms. “Or hear me out—don’t go near it.”
Leo sighed. “That’s not an option.”
Bert shrugged. “It’s the only plan guaranteed to work.”
Harlada smirked. “For once, he’s got a point.”
Bert blinked. “Wait, really?”
She smiled faintly. “Yes. Because if it’s after meat…”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
“…then it won’t attack us if it doesn’t know we’re meat,” Leo finished.
Bert grinned. “So—camouflage?”
Harlada nodded. “Or decoy. Or misdirection. Or sheer stupidity. All viable options, historically.”
The Maze pulsed, amused.
Strategy recognized: Outthink the salad. Confidence level: Misplaced.
Leo took a slow breath. “All right. Let’s think before we poke it this time.”
Bert smirked. “At least it won’t come after us.”
Harlada actually smiled. “Bert… you’re a genius.”
The Maze pulsed uneasily.
Compliment registered. Reality stability: Decreasing.
***
They backed away from the peephole, regrouping in the tunnel.
Harlada’s eyes glowed faintly as she started sketching lines in the dirt with a fingertip. “All right, listen up. We’re not rushing in this time.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “That’s already a radical improvement.”
“Thank you,” she said flatly. “Here’s the plan: I stay at range and hit it with controlled lightning. You keep using your sling to disrupt the vines, Attack the limbs so to speak.”
Bert frowned. “And me?”
“You cheer encouragingly,” she said.
He crossed his arms. “That’s not a combat role.”
“It is if you’re bad at combat,” she replied.
The Maze pulsed.
Tactical planning detected. Team hierarchy: Brutally honest.
Leo crouched beside her makeshift drawing. “It’s solid. We keep our distance. Chip away until it stops moving.”
“Exactly,” Harlada said. “We have all the time in the world. The Maze doesn’t punish patience.”
The Maze pulsed, offended.
Clarification: It absolutely does.
Bert kicked the dirt. “So I just… stand there?”
“Stay out of reach,” Harlada said. “If it comes for us, we retreat. We’re not losing the silver run to a carnivorous shrub.”
Bert sighed dramatically. “This is going to be the most boring death we’ve ever had.”
Harlada smiled thinly. “Then don’t die. Be entertained by our success.”
Leo loaded his sling, testing the motion. “All right. Lightning and pebbles. The perfect combo.”
The Maze pulsed again, dry and unimpressed.
Confidence level: Growing. Entertainment value: Shrinking.
Harlada stood, gathering energy in her palms. “Let’s get this over with.”
They turned back toward the peephole, ready to face the plant that hadn’t realized it was about to become a long, slow experiment in teamwork.
***
The fight lasted six hours.
Maybe more. Time stopped making sense somewhere around hour three, when everyone ran out of dramatic things to yell.
Lightning cracked. Pebbles flew. Smoke rose.
The plant screamed, wilted, regrew a little, screamed again, and finally decided that dying permanently was less exhausting.
Harlada dropped to the ground, arms trembling. “I think… it’s finally done.”
Leo lowered his sling. “That was… efficient.”
Bert yawned. “That was boring.”
The Maze pulsed, unimpressed.
Combat evaluation: Technically flawless. Cinematically appalling.
What remained of the plant slumped into a heap of blackened vines and twitching roots. In its place, half-buried in the dirt, a gem began to rise—softly glowing, pulsing with reluctant approval.
Bert pointed. “Loot.”
Harlada nodded. “We earned that. In the most uneventful way possible.”
Leo stepped forward and touched the gem.
Reward granted: Attribute Selection.
They looked at one another, wordless agreement again passing between them.
Leo: “Strength.”
Bert: “Dexterity.”
Harlada: “Intelligence.”
The gem pulsed three times—then hesitated, almost as if thinking.
Stat increases confirmed. Player growth accelerating.
A pause. Then, another pulse:
Concern: You might actually make it this time.
Bert grinned. “Told you patience was a strategy.”
Harlada smirked. “We’ve officially disappointed evil.”
Leo looked back at the ruined chamber. “Silver run’s still alive.”
