The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 148: The Game II

Chapter 148: The Game II

Her heart raced as she surveyed the treacherous path ahead. The floor was a mosaic of intricately patterned tiles, each concealing a deadly secret. The ceiling loomed with wickedly sharp, pendulous blades that threatened to descend upon the slightest misstep.

Sweat broke on her forehead and back, soaking her dress, her body trembling in fear and trepidation.

She had little or no time left, she needed to hurry or the swinging blades would be the last thing she saw. With grace and intuition, Rama stepped gingerly onto the first tile, its design reminding her of a swirling storm. She sensed an ominous pressure above, but the blades remained still. She exhaled with relief, her heart almost shattering with fear.

In this perilous game of life and death, Rama began to discern a pattern. She noticed that the tiles with intricate knotwork patterns seemed safe, as if the ancient craftsmen had left clues behind. As she moved, her keen eye picked out a sequence of runes hidden within the tile designs, a secret language to guide her through the labyrinth.

Good thing her love for puzzles and riddles were not vainless and now she had to put them to good use.

She pressed onward, her nimble feet following the ancient code, bypassing tiles that resembled serpent scales and avoiding tiles with thorny roses. Her determination and her reverence for the temple’s mysterious history served as her greatest allies.

With each step, she felt herself drawing closer to the temple’s inner sanctum, where the secrets of the past awaited, all while dancing with death above and below.

Her heart banged loudly in her earss everytime she stepped on a tile, her instincts dreading the thought of taking a misstep which would lead to her death. With shaky loud breaths, blurry eyes with tears and shaky feet, she finally stepped on the last tile leading to the door.

She sighed wearily, a bittersweet smile tearing through her face that she didn’t die.

As Rama triumphantly pushed open the ornate door, her hopes of escape were dashed, crumbled like the ancient walls of the temple.

Before her lay a chamber of even more sinister machinations. The room was shrouded in darkness, save for a flickering torch on the far side, illuminating a narrow, swaying rope that stretched across a seemingly bottomless chasm.

A cold sweat prickled her skin as she realized she had to traverse this perilous rope bridge, her only path forward. She moved forward toward the edge, only for her eyes to meet a gory sight below swarming the darkness of the chasm, in the abyss, grotesque and hungry creatures with gaping maws awaited, their eyes gleaming with malevolence.

Whoever her captor was probably thought it was impossible for her to evade the first treacherous machinations in the traps, and if by an almost impossible chance she did, then worse fate awaited her.

She wondered why whoever her captor was did not bother giving her a quick death when they had the chance and rather chose to suffer her, she finally concluded they wanted to give her an agonizing long death.

Tears brimmed her jade eyes at her ugly ordeal, but she blinked them back, she had no choice but to go through the rope if she had to survive, waiting didnt seem like an option as the ground below her seemed to crumble slightly as if indicating she couldn’t wait for help even if she wanted to.

With determination, Rama took her first cautious step onto the rope. Her balance was her lifeline as the rope trembled under the weight of her every movement. The air grew thick with tension as she inched forward, her arms outstretched for balance.

Torches suddenly ignited along the walls, revealing grotesque faces sculpted into the stone, their eyes following her every step, she could hear the wicked growls and snarls of the creatures beneath her, waiting for her to fall so they could tear her to shreds with their large fangs. The trap’s creators reveled in her suffering.

As she continued her harrowing journey across the rope, Rama noticed that the faces on the walls seemed to whisper cryptic riddles. The answers were her only guide to maintaining balance and avoiding the abyss. With every riddle correctly answered, the rope steadied ever so slightly, providing a modicum of respite.

The treacherous path ahead was a test of not only her physical prowess but her wit and resilience. Rama knew that one misstep would send her plummeting into the maw of the waiting monsters below. With each heart-pounding moment, she held onto the hope that her determination would carry her through this nightmarish labyrinth and bring her one step closer to freedom in the dark world she had unwittingly entered.

With a racing heart, Rama began her treacherous journey across the swaying rope. However, as she stepped onto the bridge, she realized that her way forward was obstructed by an ancient scroll that unfurled, revealing mystical riddles etched onto its delicate surface.

The first riddle materialized before her eyes:

"I’m a son of water, but when I return, water can’t be seen. What am I?"

Rama furrowed her brow, the abyss below serving as a constant reminder of her perilous situation. She knew that the answer held the key to maintaining her balance on the precarious rope. She whispered her response with conviction, "Mist!"

To her relief, the rope steadied slightly, granting her a moment’s respite from the perilous swaying. As she continued her precarious journey, the riddles kept coming, each offering a glimmer of hope as she provided the correct answer.

She finally reached the end of the rope, her breath shaky with suspense as she stepped on the safety of hard rocks, finally safe from the gnawing large maws of the deadly creatures waiting to feed on her.

After escaping the nightmarish rope bridge, Rama opened the door at the end of the bridge, she opened the door to arrive at a chamber that seemed like her salvation. A colossal door, adorned with intricate engravings, stood before her.

Desperation fueled her determination as she pushed it open, hoping to find the long-awaited exit.

However, disappointment made her face twist with horror when she saw the room concealed a treacherous secret.

The walls were lined with life-sized statues, grotesque and twisted into horrifying forms. These stone monstrosities seemed to leer at her with malicious glee. In the center of the room, a pedestal held a collection of jeweled stones, each a different shape and color, as if pieces of an intricate puzzle.

As she scanned the walls, Rama noticed that each statue had an empty socket, perfectly matching the shapes and colors of the jeweled stones.

It was a deadly game of choice, for if she placed a stone in the wrong statue, it would trigger a sinister mechanism.

In a world where nothing was as it seemed, she began to decipher the clues hidden in the engravings on the door and the positions of the statues. The images told a twisted tale, a riddle of life and death.

In the center of the chamber, an array of jeweled stones glistened upon a grand pedestal, their colors and shapes dazzling in the flickering torchlight. However, each statue along the room’s walls possessed a unique, recessed socket with the same color and shape as one of these jewels, and an inscription beneath.

The riddles etched into the stone below each statue’s outstretched hand posed a riddle that corresponded to the placement of the jeweled stones.

She read the engraved writings in the first grotesque statue

"In twilight’s gentle embrace, my color reflects the last light of day. What am I?"

The second grotesque statue’s engraved writings read as thus:

"Like the depths of the endless sea, my hue is boundless and deep. What am I?"

The third:

"Beneath the forest canopy, my shade hides the secrets of the earth. What am I?"

Rama knew that each correct answer would lead her to the right statue and the perfect jewel placement. However, failure to match the stone with the statue would trigger a malevolent mechanism. Poisonous arrows would spring forth from the statues, turning what seemed like a puzzle into a deadly gamble.

With the weight of her life hanging in the balance, Rama carefully considered each riddle, her sharp wits and intuition guiding her choices. Only by interpreting the symbolism within the riddles and matching them to the jeweled stones could she successfully unlock the path to her escape.

With bated breath, she placed the first jewel in its rightful spot, and a satisfying click filled the chamber as the statue closest to her came to life, its empty eyes fixing on the door. The room held its breath as if the very air feared her next move.

Rama’s intuition guided her, and she continued to place the stones carefully. Each time she succeeded, the statues awoke and locked their gazes on the exit door, protecting her from their own deadly intent.

But with each victory came an escalation in the stakes.

Poisonous arrows began to rain down from the mouths of the statues that guarded the door, seeking to impale her. She had to quickly placing the remaining jewel or she would get impaled to her death.

Her eyes widened in horror at the realization that the spikes shooting out of the hideous statues were no mere spikes, but engulfed with poison.