The tall knights, clad in exquisite copper armor, gazed directly into the mist in which the looming giants were.
As they coldly observed "Them", their armor began to rot with greenish-blue blotches, spreading in all directions like a contagious disease, but there were no signs of decomposition or fragility.
The two golem-like knights retracted their gaze and stared at the deteriorating Märchen, whose body was in the process of rotting as he sat there hopelessly on the ground, waiting for his impending end.
The knight at the right, who is holding an exaggerated lance in its right palm, took a few steps towards the door as it gently extended its other arm to rest against the surface.
As it did, it traveled its arm toward its back, eliciting soft machinery noises, hinting at its inner working structure.
Simultaneously, the knight at the left, holding a long sword below with both hands, carried its sword above from the ground, as though a powerful strike awaited for the earth.
Bang! With a swift and heavy movement, the knight at the right propelled its palm towards the tall heavy right door, forcing it to push itself as it screeched heavily on the ground.
Boom! At the same time, the knight at the left drove its sword deep into the ground, breaking the floor as it radiated roots of cracks.
In the aftermath, the two glowing dots hidden behind its visor and the sword began to ignite with brilliance, invoking a circle of radiant light that illuminates the surroundings.
…
Märchen felt his vision had returned as he closed them immediately, rubbing them gently. He stumbled backward, landing with a thud on the ground.
Once he attempted to lift his eyelids, the bright light intruded his pupils, preventing him from doing so. Blinking multiple times, he managed to open his eyes slightly despite the light hurting them.
Amidst the barrage of blinks, he stood up with the help of his elbows and briefly saw the tall knight at the left side of the door planting its broad sword into the ground, radiating a bright light.
He could also see the other knight on the right open the right door of the tall doorway, as though greeting to his master.
What? Did they manage to remove the curse-like influence? Are they helping me? Why are they doing this? Wait, no—this isn't the time to be thinking! Just as he moved, he felt an intense, almost ethereal pain sprouting through his mind, interrupting him from his subsequent actions.
He paused and firmly grasped his temples as he tried to work his balance. His senses were disordered, and his thoughts began to drift apart, creating a swirl of new and random yet distorted ideas.
Almost as if his brain was in a constant state of changing and mixing each other, similar to the phenomenon of melting.
However, he instinctively kept going towards the opened right door, walking slowly and ineptly. With each step, he noticed a strange numbness creeping into his legs, eventually reaching a point where he could no longer feel anything with it.
Alarmed, he lost his balance and fell to the ground with a resounding thud. He immediately tried to stand up but he also couldn't feel anything in his arms, as though it wasn't there anymore.
Although he believed that he had moved it, he couldn't shake the feeling of disconnection between his arms. His sense of sight, distorted by other senses, had prevented him from seeing clearly.
All he could see was a sea containing a myriad of colors that could cause intense headaches from just a glimpse of it, or strong hallucinations after removing their sight from it.
Dogshit! What… happening… now!? Due to his thoughts constantly shifting, he finds it challenging to think properly or articulate a proper thought in his head.
Frustrated—if he wasn't mistaken—he focuses on the sea of chaotic colors with keen adherence despite the overall feeling of impatience, attempting to discern the colors through even their subtle changes. Fortunately, Märchen couldn't comprehend the colors completely. Otherwise, he might suffer a harsh headache.
However, the more Märchen tried to discern the jumbled and muddled colors, the more nonsensical and elusive the colors were to figure out.
As time flows by, he can also feel his intellect and memories being sectioned out in his head. He can also feel his body becoming more torpid and numb.
At this rate, if he is not going to act quickly, he might become an empty husk that is in a state of half-dead and half-alive, even potentially forgetting how to breathe!
Desperately, he extends his arm and slams it on the ground, pulling himself up as his other hand on the ground pushes his body for further support. He continued this process with his other arm and so on.
If I… facing… door before… this happened, I might be still at… door's direction… Encouraged, he thought that the distance between the right door of the tall entrance and him wasn't that great, enabling him to only crawl his way to the door.
…
Despite his efforts, he sensed that he wasn't approaching the door, nor did he feel that he had entered inside.
Was I… mistaken? Märchen pondered as he turned his head from side to side but he couldn't see, hear, feel, or perceive his surroundings. All he was aware of was the extremely nauseating sea of colors that inundated around him.
Those foggy giants are coming. Those knights weren't even trying to help me at all. Is there a hidden motive in their actions? Who even transported me to this location in the first place? All kinds of thoughts surfaced in his deteriorating mind, seemingly in a cluttered state of fluster and chaos.
Amidst Märchen's swirling thoughts, a sudden sharp and ethereal "bell" noise rang out, coming from either the boundless distance or perhaps from his essence, as though it was guiding him.
What? Amid the ghostly, bell-like buzzing, he gradually realize that the noise was coming from the large clock tower that was located at the heart of the castle. It had struck noon, the arrival of midday!
The sound of the clock was far from the concept of a "sound" or the vibration in a medium—it was like a large vibrating signal that came within his soul while it emanated from the source, disregarding any senses and common sense.
Gong! Gong!
Märchen listened attentively as it continued to reverberate magnificently around him, determining where the sound might be coming out from, excluding from within his consciousness.
Märchen determined that it was emanating from his back, angled slightly towards his right.
Just as he attempted to pivot, he realized that he could not feel anything anymore. He had finally turned into a "liquid" being, where his senses and movement had eluded him.
"Uh?"
"Eh… What is this sensation?"
"Hmm?"
"Did I just move? Sh*t, I cannot tell."
"Hmm?"
"Uh?"
"Wait, I can think now?"
"Not only am I able to think clearly now, but I'm also processing information at an incredibly fast pace. If my body could keep up with my mind, I feel like I could dodge a bolt of lightning!"
"Was I able to think this clearly and quickly because of the ringing of the clock tower?"
"Might be the reason."
"Oh right, my situation"
"…"
"'My' situation?"
"It's all hopeless."
"I can't seem to escape the Fourth Floor, almost like someone was manipulating me behind the scenes, stopping me from leaving the floor."
"Nonetheless, it is all useless."
"What benefits are there when, despite having a fair knowledge about the structural and unique aspects of the Fourth Floor, I kept making assumptions or reasoning why I cannot escape this darn floor."
"Really, why do I want to escape so badly?"
"Why do I keep moving forward, when everything feels so… useless?"
"Why do I want to survive when nothing awaits me… but myself?
"I use my deceased party as a reason to live. To justify and forget the choice I made that killed all of them?"
"Am I this cowardly and degenerated?"
"Argh, my head hurts. I want to die. I don't want to live anymore."
"I'm just a good-for-nothing like they said. Maybe my obsession with traveling—being an adventurer was a curse that I brought upon myself."
"If I just listen to them and accept reality, would they still be thriving like they are now? Without knowing my existence and the help of mine?"
"Yeah, perhaps that would have been a greater choice on their behalf..."
"If I continue to stay here, my mind will share the same state as my body."
"Argh. I do hate getting my memories erased, but at least it stops me from fearing and regretting."
"Ah… might just stay here for a while."
"Maybe I can rest here for…"
"…"
"?"
"What in the world am I thinking?"
"Why did I just think that?"
"Sh*t, why do I think that I am a worthless piece of swinesh*t? Screw that!"
"The reason why I left them is that they don't understand me; they are a group of illiterates and cowards, more degenerated than me!"
"Those lowlife villagers…. It would be a shame for me to have them successfully break me."
"Indeed. Why did I think that without me, my party would've survived?"
"It already happened! There's nothing to change the fact that they've died!"
"Ifs and then are just baseless, hollow tools!"
"I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this."
"What's the point of surviving alone in the dark with undaunting determination, treading with far more terrifying monsters and spirits, just to die in vain in an unknown area!?"
"Dogsh*t! A son of a swine!"
Invigorated by his sudden outburst of thoughts, he outstretched his arm toward his right side, as his left arm followed suit.
Though he could still feel the sense of total disconnection in his body, he was certain that he had executed the subsequent movements.
If not, then screw it. There's nothing he could do to change his fate. If his fate was to die like an insect where no one can find him, then so be it!
"But I won't die in such a foolish and ludicrous way! A place full of strange stuff is the worst place to die in!"
Gong!
Persistently, he kept moving toward the source of the "noise", crawling on the ground with great resolution, like a tenacious ant, unwilling to die.
"A reason to live? Why did I think something stupid like that? Never did I make a reason for something so absurd and annoying like this!"
"Screw that! Screw you! Screw everything! Do I need to create every single trivial reason for nonsensical concepts just so that it sounds profound, clear, and 'reasonable?'"
"The only reasonable notion for you to act in such a way is that you're self-prioritizing yourself!—to provide convenient reasons to incomprehensible abstracts!"
"I want to live because I simply wanted to live! To carry out my memories and live on! To move forward from this heinous dungeon!"
"I will survive. You'll… see! You'll... all… see!!"
Despite the significant obstacles, he pushes himself to the ground, determined to keep moving forward in spite of the numbness. As his mind begins to lose self-awareness, his instincts barged in to take control on behalf of his deteriorating mind to keep moving forward.
Every second must count as every aspect of his life was slipping away in his hands.
Sequentially, he forgot how to breathe as he could not feel his body anymore.
He felt that his mind began to forget to supply the body with oxygen for energy.
He had almost forgotten the instinct to move forward as well.
After a few seconds of sliding on the ground, Märchen suddenly felt a flat, cold sensation in his fingers when he raised his arm and pushed his hand below. He also felt his fingers cold and contracting, accompanied by a sharp pain.
Impulsively curious, he stretched his other arm and dropped it below. Likewise, his hand felt the said sensation from the other.
With no thought of what he was doing, he pulled himself towards the direction out of curiosity.
Almost immediately, warmth rushed through his eyes as bright rays streamed in behind him, blanketing the area with light and casting his shadow through the door.
"Hah!"
Can't even bother to pause, he took this moment to intensely gasped for air before coughing.
With an intuitive surge of determination, he pulled the rest of his body into the door, resisting the immense involuntary contracting pain in his arms and body.
At that moment, the knight wielding a long lance pulled the tall, heavy door, screeching loudly against the floor.
The light looming behind the door gradually diminished until it was too tight to travel through, closing with a resounding rumble, sealing off illumination from the outside.
Today, Märchen had survived once more to live another day again, even if he found it gray and boring.