Chapter 23: The Labyrinth of the King’s Mind

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The heavy, metallic silence of the treasury was shattered the moment Caleb’s knees hit the marble floor. The silver light that had radiated from him only moments ago vanished, replaced by a sickly, pulsing shadow that moved beneath the skin of his arm like a swarm of insects.

“Caleb!” Scarlett shrieked, dropping to her knees beside him.

His skin was burning, but his breath was coming out as a fine mist of frost. The black mark left by Master Xuan’s spectral touch was spreading, its jagged veins crawling toward his heart. This wasn't a physical poison; it was a Void-Curse specifically designed to unravel a soul from the inside out. By grabbing the rift, Caleb had voluntarily taken the blow meant for her.

“My King!” Fenris roared, bursting through the doors with his claws extended, followed by a phalanx of terrified warriors.

The scene they found was a nightmare: the treasury in ruins, the King unconscious, and the "Thorne Witch" cradling his head, her hands glowing with a frantic, golden light.

“What have you done to him?” Fenris snarled, his eyes flashing a lethal amber. He stepped toward her, his aura swelling with a desperate, protective rage. “You brought those shadows here! You brought that ghost into our sacred ground!”

“Stay back, Fenris!” Scarlett’s voice held a razor-edged authority that stopped the massive wolf in his tracks. She didn't look up, her fingers moving in a blurred dance as she traced a Spirit-Sealing Array around Caleb’s body. “He took this curse to protect the Stronghold. If you move him now, the shock will shatter his heart. He’s in a coma of the soul.”

“Then fix him!” Elder Martha pushed through the crowd, her face pale. She knelt beside Caleb, her hands trembling as she felt the unnatural cold radiating from him. “This is beyond my herbs, Scarlett. This is the darkness of the Void.”

“I’m going in,” Scarlett said, her voice dropping to a low, determined whisper.

“Going where?” Fenris demanded.

“Into his mind. Into the Labyrinth,” Scarlett replied. She looked at Martha. “I need you to guard our bodies. Do not let anyone—anyone—break the circle of salt I’m about to draw. If my tether is cut while I’m inside, neither of us will wake up.”

Martha nodded solemnly, already signaling the guards to form a defensive perimeter.

Scarlett sat cross-legged, placing her forehead against Caleb’s. She closed her eyes and began the Soul-Diving Mantra. The world around her—the stone walls, the shouting warriors, the smell of incense—dissolved into a formless grey mist.

When her vision cleared, she was standing in a place that didn't resemble the Stronghold. It was a vast, ruined forest under a permanent eclipse. The trees were twisted into shapes of agony, and the air tasted of old blood and rusted iron. This was Caleb’s subconscious—the manifestation of a thousand years of war, loneliness, and the trauma of his captivity.

“Caleb!” she called out, her astral form glowing with a soft, persistent gold.

A low, guttural snarl was her only answer.

From the shadows of a massive, dead oak tree, a beast emerged. It was Caleb, but not the man she knew. He was in his full wolf-form, but his fur was matted with shadow, and his eyes were no longer molten gold. They were empty pits of void-fire. The curse had found his deepest fear—the fear of becoming the monster everyone thought he was—and used it to cage him.

The shadow-wolf lunged, its fangs baring as it aimed for her throat.

Scarlett didn't move. She didn't draw a weapon. Instead, she opened her arms, letting her spiritual light flare until it illuminated the entire forest.

“Caleb Blackwood, look at me!” she commanded, her voice echoing with the power of the Lunar Key within her. “The void did not claim you. You chose to protect me. You chose to be a King instead of a beast. Remember the dance! Remember the mark!”

The beast froze inches from her, its hot, sulfuric breath hitting her face. The shadow-wolf let out a pained whimper, its body shivering as the golden light began to burn away the oily miasma of the curse.

Scarlett reached out, her translucent hand resting on the beast’s broad snout. “I’m not the girl from the novel anymore, Caleb. And you’re not the broken king in the bathtub. We are the architects of our own world. Come back to me.”

Under her touch, the wolf’s empty eyes began to flicker. A spark of gold returned, small but fierce. The forest around them began to crumble, the dead trees dissolving into starlight.

“Scarlett...”

The voice came from the wolf’s throat, but it was human. The transformation began—not a violent shift of bone and fur, but a gentle shedding of the shadow. Caleb stood before her, naked and gasping, his skin covered in the silver light of her protection.

He grabbed her, pulling her into a desperate embrace. “The void... it showed me a world where you never arrived,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “A world where I died in the dark.”

“That world doesn't exist,” Scarlett promised, her heart breaking for the depth of his fear. “We’re going back. Together.”

As they crossed the threshold of consciousness, the black mark on Caleb’s arm flared one last time before shattering into a thousand harmless sparks.

In the treasury, Caleb’s eyes snapped open. He let out a sharp, gasping breath, his hand instantly flying to Scarlett’s face to ensure she was real.

The warriors let out a collective roar of relief, but Caleb didn't hear them. He pulled Scarlett into his lap, ignoring the eyes of his pack, his forehead resting against hers in a gesture of absolute, soul-bound submission.

“You saved me again, little witch,” Caleb rumbled, his voice thick with an emotion that was no longer just obsession—it was love.

But as Scarlett looked at the Stellar Navigator on the floor, she saw that the needle was still spinning. The void hadn't been defeated; it had simply been provoked. And far to the South, the Order of the Black Sun was already preparing their response.