Warlock of Oceans: My Poseidon System-Chapter 438: Third Floor: The Haunted Forest of Winter Deers (32)

Cyrus gave her a wry grin. "Because we're too stubborn to die. And because Sylus here doesn't know how to quit."

Sylus chuckled, but his eyes were distant again for just a moment before he drained his glass. "Maybe. Or maybe we just got lucky."

The noise of the pub filled the gaps in their conversation, but an unspoken tension lingered beneath the surface. Athena's sharp gaze lingered on Sylus, but she didn't press further. For now, they let the topic rest, though the weight of the snake-like man and Sylus's reaction to him remained heavy in the back of their minds.

The trio remained at the booth as the pub's energy continued to rise, laughter and cheers filling the room. The weight of their earlier conversation hung for only a moment longer before Athena waved down a server, ordering another round.

Visit fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm for the best novel reading experi𝒆nce.

"Well," she said, sitting back with an exaggerated groan, "if we're going to talk about the most horrifying dungeon we've ever survived, we should at least make it fun. Let's rate the worst moments, shall we?"

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. "Rate them? Like what, a scale of one to 'we almost died'?"

"Exactly!" Athena grinned, leaning forward on her elbows. "Like, for example, the part where the illusion made us fight that endless swarm of deer? That's at least a solid eight. Maybe nine."

Cyrus snorted. "You're underselling it. That was a full ten. Do you know how many antlers I dodged in that mess? I swear, if I see one more deer in my life…"

Sylus, uncharacteristically, chuckled as he sipped his drink. "I'd give it a seven."

Athena gasped, clutching her chest. "A seven? Sylus, we were drowning in an ocean of deer! What would get a ten for you?"

Sylus tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "The time I was hunted by a pack of Eldritch wolves in a collapsing cave. Now that was a ten."

Athena and Cyrus exchanged a look before Cyrus said, "See, this is why we don't ask Sylus for comparisons. Everything's a Tuesday for him."

"True," Athena said, nodding sagely. "Sylus probably rates the final boss we just fought as, what? A light workout?"

"Six," Sylus said smoothly, the corner of his mouth quirking.

They burst into laughter, Cyrus almost spilling his drink. "A six? You're ridiculous."

"Hold on," Athena said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "What about when Cyrus got tackled into the snow by one of the smaller deer and couldn't get back up because it pinned him?"

"That didn't happen," Cyrus said quickly, a flush creeping into his cheeks.

"It absolutely did," Athena countered, her grin wicked. "You were flailing like a turtle on its back. I had to save you!"

"Flailing?" Cyrus said, aghast. "I was strategizing."

"Sure," Sylus added, his tone deadpan. "Strategizing how to blend in with the snow."

Athena wheezed, nearly falling out of her seat. Cyrus threw up his hands. "Traitors. Both of you."

"Well, don't feel bad," Athena said between giggles. "I'll admit, I wasn't exactly graceful when that illusion made me think I was walking on air and I just… walked straight into a tree."

Cyrus perked up, his grin wide. "Oh, I forgot about that! You went down hard. I thought the tree might win."

Athena glared but couldn't hold back a laugh. "Okay, fair. But Sylus, what about you? You're not off the hook. I saw you slip on some ice during that big dramatic leap."

Sylus raised an eyebrow, his calm demeanor unruffled. "I didn't slip. I adjusted my trajectory."

"Oh, sure," Cyrus said, mimicking Sylus's stoic expression. "Adjusting your trajectory by falling on your face."

Even Sylus cracked a smile at that, shaking his head. "Fine. Maybe the ice was slicker than expected."

They all laughed, their earlier tension fading into the warm camaraderie of the moment. The server arrived with their next round, and Athena raised her glass high.

"To us," she declared. "The dysfunctional trio who somehow keeps surviving."

Cyrus and Sylus clinked their glasses against hers, their grins wide as the noise of the pub enveloped them. For the first time since the dungeon, they allowed themselves to relax, enjoying the rare moment of peace.

The pub had long since emptied, leaving behind only a faint buzz of activity as staff cleaned up and a few stragglers lingered in quiet conversation. Athena, however, was far from quiet. Draped across Sylus's and Cyrus's shoulders, she swayed heavily, her speech slurred as she alternated between laughing and complaining about the uneven cobblestones.

"Y'know," she hiccupped, gesturing wildly, "I think... we're heroes or something. Like, someone should make a statue of us... fighting deer."

"Of course," Cyrus said, humor lacing his tone as he adjusted her weight. "A monument to the great deer-slaying trio."

Athena burst into giggles, nearly toppling forward. "Yes! With Sylus looking stoic, me looking awesome, and you looking... like you're flailing."

Sylus's lip twitched in what might have been a smirk, though he remained silent as they reached the inn and guided Athena to her room. Inside, they set her down gently on the bed. She muttered something incoherent before promptly passing out, her snores filling the small space.

Outside the room, Cyrus leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as his expression darkened. "Alright," he said quietly, his voice firm. "How do you know him?"

Sylus stopped mid-turn, his back to Cyrus. For a moment, he didn't respond, his posture unreadable. Finally, he sighed and turned his head slightly. "It's... complicated."

"I have time," Cyrus said, his eyes sharp. "Athena and I fought that man in the dungeon. He wasn't just dangerous—he was terrifying. And he used a throne world just like mine. I need answers, Sylus."

Sylus hesitated, the internal conflict visible in the way his shoulders tensed. "Go to the temple at dawn," he said finally, his tone low. "I'll explain everything then."

Cyrus studied him for a moment longer before nodding. "Fine. But don't think about keeping anything from me."

Without another word, Sylus turned and headed toward the temple, disappearing into the quiet night. Cyrus watched him go before pushing off the wall and heading back to his room. However, just as he reached his door, a movement near Athena's caught his attention.

Three men, clearly drunk and swaying, were standing outside her door. One of them was wiggling the handle while another crouched, fiddling with a set of lockpicks.

"C'mon," one of them slurred, "she'll never know. Just a little fun."

Cyrus's expression darkened as his hand instinctively went to the hilt of his weapon. Stepping silently into the shadows, he prepared to strike. His grip tightened, his mind already calculating the quickest way to take them all out before Athena was disturbed.

But before he could make his move, a sudden, blinding blast of light erupted from within the room. The door exploded outward, smashing into the lockpicker and sending all three men flying. The blast left scorch marks along the walls and floor, the smell of burned fabric and singed hair filling the air.

The would-be intruders groaned in pain, their skin reddened and blistered as they scrambled to their feet and fled, cursing under their breaths.

Cyrus, now bathed in the soft glow of the dissipating light, stood frozen for a moment. Then, a low chuckle escaped him. "Good to know she's got some defenses of her own," he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He turned away and entered his room, shutting the door behind him as he shook his head in amusement.

The first rays of dawn seeped through the cracks in the heavy curtains of Cyrus's room, casting long streaks of light across the floor. He groaned softly, rubbing his temples as he sat up, the faint thrum of a hangover making his head feel heavier than usual. The muffled sound of Athena's snoring filtered faintly through the wall.

He chuckled to himself, running a hand through his messy hair. "She'll be out for hours," he muttered.

After splashing cold water on his face, he changed into a clean set of clothes—a simple tunic, sturdy trousers, and his well-worn boots. The crisp morning air hit him as he stepped out, and the faint hum of activity in the city began to stir around him.

The temple was a short walk away, its towering spires glinting in the rising sun. When he arrived, the air felt still, almost reverent, as he pushed open the large, ornate doors. Inside, the scent of incense greeted him, mingling with the low murmur of prayers echoing off the stone walls.

A group of people knelt in quiet devotion before a massive statue dominating the center of the room. The figure depicted was a bearded man, his expression solemn and wise, a hand raised as though in blessing while the other rested on the hilt of a grand sword. Candles flickered at its base, their light casting dancing shadows that made the statue seem almost alive.

Cyrus's gaze lingered briefly before he moved past the worshippers, his boots clicking softly against the polished stone floor. He headed toward the back of the temple, his destination clear in his mind. As he approached a narrow corridor, two clergymen in simple robes stepped into his path, their expressions polite but firm.

"Sir, this area is restricted," one of them said, holding up a hand to stop him.

Before Cyrus could respond, Sylus emerged from a nearby doorway, his presence commanding immediate attention. "It's fine," Sylus said, his voice steady but carrying an authority that left no room for argument. The clergymen hesitated only for a moment before bowing slightly and stepping aside.

Sylus nodded at Cyrus. "Follow me."

They walked in silence down a series of corridors, the stone walls adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of battle and divine intervention. The air grew cooler the farther they went until they arrived at a modest wooden door. Sylus opened it, revealing a small but well-kept office. The room was lined with bookshelves, each crammed with tomes, scrolls, and ledgers. A simple desk sat in the center, papers neatly arranged alongside a single candle that had burned down halfway.

Sylus gestured for Cyrus to take a seat across from the desk as he moved to the other side, lowering himself into the chair with a slight sigh. For a moment, the two men regarded each other, the weight of the previous night's conversation still lingering between them.

"Well," Cyrus said, leaning back slightly, "I'm here. Let's hear it."