Iraeta unconsciously took a step back.
"No, there's no need."
He snapped out of his daze and focused on the man in the gray robe who was diligently painting the puppet in the dimly lit room. He asked with curiosity, "Are you the artisan of wax statues who serves Count Poufer?"
This Count had a peculiar hobby of crafting wax figures for his friends.
The man with the fiery red beard avoided direct eye contact and continued coloring the half-finished puppet in front of him.
Lumian, who had already returned to the corridor, turned his head and glanced at Albus Medici. Instead of speaking, he directed his question at the enigmatic man in the cluttered room, "What should we call you?"
Lumian was certain that something was amiss with the wax statue artisan before him, but he couldn't determine the extent of the problem. They had just noticed that no light escaped from this room, indicating that the man had been working on the puppet in complete darkness!
The man with deep, iron-black eyes and a fiery red beard looked up once more and spoke in a spectral tone, "My grandfather went mad and ventured into the depths of the underground palace, never to return…
"My father went mad and ventured into the depths of the underground palace, never to return…"
"So, are you mad as well?" Albus Medici interrupted the man's ramblings.
The man hesitated for a moment before answering, "I… hear the summonings from the depths of the underground palace…"
At this point, his gaze swept across the faces of Lumian, Albus, and Elros. The corners of his mouth, obscured by his beard, curled up slightly, hinting at an elusive smile.
His vacant iron-black eyes grew more intense, and his voice carried a sense of urgency.
"The three of you, hurry to the depths of the underground palace…"
Iraeta muttered under his breath, "Why not me?"
Lumian's mind raced as he sought common ground with Albus and Elros.
As Poet Iraeta had pointed out, the "three of you" in the strange man's statement didn't include him. Given the peculiar atmosphere and circumstances, something was definitely awry.
I'm a Hunter, and Albus is a Hunter. Could Elros also be a Hunter? While Lumian contemplated this, Albus Medici seemed unfazed by the eerie words of the wax statue artisan. He flashed a cheeky smile and asked, "Do you want us to venture deep into the underground palace to rescue your grandfather, father, and brother, or would you prefer to send your regards?"
Quite aggressive… Logically speaking, he's at least a Pyromaniac, the kind whose potion has mostly been digested. There's no need to provoke everyone with every word… Could it be that he's intentionally misleading others to believe that he's only a Provoker? Lumian looked at Albus's well-defined side profile and muttered inwardly.
The man painting the puppet paid Albus no attention and continued his work.
"Sorry to bother you," Lumian said, not giving Albus a chance to escalate the situation. He reached for the vermilion wooden door's handle, gently closed it, and left the room behind.
Lumian decided not to explore the room with the iron-clad soldier, fearing it might trigger unwanted events.
In the darkness, Lumian descended the worn stone steps, carbide lamp in hand.
Amid the echoing footsteps, Elros Einhorn suddenly commented, "That man looked like a lion…"
Lumian recalled the wax statue artisan's appearance. Indeed, with his long, dense red hair and beard, he did resemble a humanized lion.
Albus Medici gently swayed the carbide lamp in his hand and glanced at Elros.
"This is your maternal grandfather's castle. You've lived here for nearly six years. Don't act like a visitor like us who doesn't know anything."
"I genuinely don't know who that person was," Elros replied, shaking her head. "I rarely enter the underground palace. The farthest I've gone is the room filled with wax statues."
In other words, during your limited explorations, you had chosen the same path as me. You had selected the Door of Madness among the three doors of Hope, Madness, and Death… Why didn't you continue deeper? What were you worried about? Lumian deduced some information from Elros Einhorn's succinct answer.
Albus scoffed.
"Have you heard of the legend of Sauron family members going mad and venturing into the depths of the underground palace, never to return?
"For example, my grandfather went mad and ventured into the depths of the underground palace…"
The member of the Iron and Blood Cross Order mimicked the man's speech with an uncanny accuracy.
Excellent, you've asked the question I wanted to ask… Despite Albus Medici's grating manner, he did serve a purpose.
He had no reservations and, with great acumen, asked questions that he couldn't.
With such a teammate around, Lumian could maintain a semblance of distance and conceal his true thoughts and attitude.
The worn stone steps seemed never-ending. As Elros descended carefully, she sighed and explained,
"I've always known about such legends.
"The master of Red Swan Castle and the Sauron family members who reside here, both men and women, gradually become violent and irritable, eventually going mad. It's possible for them to enter the depths of the underground palace after mutilating themselves and never return. These incidents occur sporadically, sometimes once every few years, or two or three times a year.
"Apart from the family members who yearn to restore their forebears' glory, Sauron has distanced himself from this ancient castle. He doesn't want to go mad.
"This has a certain effect, ensuring the Sauron family's continuation and heritage. However, that madness seems to be a curse, a curse rooted in the bloodline. Sauron, who resides elsewhere, will occasionally have people suddenly return and repeat the experiences of their forebears here."
Is this the surface explanation behind the Sauron family's decline? If the core members of the family go mad one by one and enter the depths of the underground palace without returning, the family will indeed decline bit by bit… Why did Elros tell us in detail about the matters that's privy to the Sauron family… She believes that we won't leave alive, so she's satisfying her desire to share? Lumian couldn't help but recall the nightmares he had experienced due to the King's Pie game.
In the nightmares, Red Swan Castle was overrun by lunatics who mutilated themselves in gruesome ways, gouging out their own eyeballs and more.
It seemed that these lunatics might have included various individuals from the Sauron family who had gone mad over the course of more than two centuries.
But not all of them shared the Sauron bloodline. Lumian remembered how Novelist Anori and other participants in the King's Pie game had also gone insane and committed grotesque acts to themselves and others, despite lacking the Sauron family's lineage.
Albus Medici, in his irritating manner, wore a smirk as he asked Elros, "Did your maternal grandfather also go crazy and venture into the depths of the underground palace?"
Elros remained calm and replied, "No, he passed away due to chronic headaches. Not every owner of Red Swan Castle eventually goes mad."
Albus, undeterred, continued to press, "What are the common factors among those who don't go mad?"
Elros's face was illuminated by the carbide lamp's glow as she responded in her usual tone, "It's a family secret."
In essence, she was saying: "I'm not going to tell you."
This response left Lumian, who was leading the way, feeling a growing sense of frustration.
If Elros had simply cautioned them against prying into the Sauron family's affairs from the start, he wouldn't have reacted emotionally. But her willingness to share intriguing information, only to withhold the crucial details, felt like a deliberate provocation.
After a moment of silence, Albus Medici's smile returned, and he probed further, "What about your mother?"
Elros replied, "She passed away normally due to an illness."
Albus chuckled and continued, "What about you? You also have the Sauron family's bloodline. Will you suddenly go crazy?"
Elros turned her head and glanced at the impolite fellow, revealing an indescribable smile.
"In the long run, we'll all go mad."
Who do you mean by "we"? Lumian's forehead twitched, sensing that Elros wasn't just referring to the Sauron family.
A moment of silence followed, broken by Poet Iraeta's heartfelt sigh.
"The fear of a family, the curse that has lasted for generations, and the forebears who have ventured into the dark underground. What an excellent theme for an essay. It's very inspiring. If Anori were to find out, he would definitely produce a classic novel. Even I would have the urge to write a long poem."
As they conversed, the four of them finally reached the end of the lengthy stone steps.
Before them stretched a vast hall with grayish-white stone pillars supporting the dark ceiling above.
The four carbide lamps illuminated the space, revealing several piles of bones partially exposed behind certain stone pillars.
"Plenty of the dead." Albus Medici, undaunted, sighed with a smile and strolled toward one of the bone piles.
At that moment, Lumian picked up a rustling sound.
He swiftly raised his head and raised the carbide lamp.
In the dim yellow lighting, mottled ceiling, a colossal shadow moved with surprising speed, crawling across the uneven surface before vanishing into the shadows on the other side.
The shadow was a spider-like creature.
In comparison to its kind, it had only one pair of eyes, but each eye contained numerous tiny single eyes moving independently, radiating a cold and eerie light.
Countless long, thick bristles encircled a withered, blackened, fist-sized heart on its back.
Lumian's blood ran cold as a term leaped to the forefront of his mind: Black Hunting Spider!
This was one of the main ingredients of the Conspirer potion.
Over the past month, although Lumian hadn't yet acquired any ingredients related to Black Hunting Spiders and Sphinxes, he had amassed a general understanding of these two Beyonder creatures, including their appearance and abilities. Recently, he had contemplated "teleporting" to another location in his quest to locate these creatures.
However, the Black Hunting Spider he had just witnessed was even more unusual than the information he had gathered. It deviated significantly in several details, particularly the presence of a withered heart that eerily resembled that of a human.
