The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

The corridor they were in seemed to slope downward, deeper into the labyrinth, which didn't feel safe either, but they didn't have much choice. The upper floors were caved in. Maybe deeper sections would have an exit, or an alternate route leading back up to the surface. Or maybe we're just going in circles, Mikhailis thought with a pang of dread. But it was better than waiting for the next collapse.

He took a cautious step forward, guiding Rhea with him. Her face was drawn in pain, but she kept pace, each breath measured. Lira fell in behind them, scanning the darkness with watchful eyes.

As they crept along, the glow from the fragment gave them just enough light to see a few strides ahead. The stone underfoot was uneven, riddled with lumps of debris. Occasionally, a chunk of old metal or a shattered clay pot stuck out from the rubble, relics of a time when maybe this place was more than just a deathtrap. The catacombs had grown labyrinthine over the centuries, layers upon layers of different eras stacked on top of each other.

An uncomfortable silence settled. Usually, Mikhailis would crack a joke to lighten the tension, but his throat felt too dry, and the stale air pressed heavily on his chest. Every so often, Rhea let out a stifled hiss as her injured leg jarred against a loose rock. Lira kept glancing backward, perhaps checking for illusions or half expecting the corridor to collapse behind them.

This is not how I planned on spending my morning, Mikhailis mused bleakly. But then again, when do things go as planned? Even so, he couldn't suppress a flicker of excitement. Something about unraveling forgotten mysteries always thrilled him, despite the mortal peril. He felt the fragment's warmth in his hand, pulsing softly, as if reaffirming that he wasn't just any random intruder in these ruins.

Another memory of the illusions flickered in his mind—the twisted version of himself he'd glimpsed, wreathed in dark mist. Was that a warning? A possible future? He swallowed hard. He'd never admit it out loud, but a knot of fear coiled in his gut at the idea that he could become something monstrous.

Before he could dwell further, Rhea spoke in a low voice. "You holding up?" She didn't look at him as she asked, more concerned with watching her step, but the question carried genuine worry.

He forced a lopsided grin.

"I've been worse, though not often."

She snorted softly, though it lacked her usual bite.

"I still think we should toss that glowing rock down a pit and hope it takes the whole catacomb with it."

He patted her arm gently.

"And ruin all the fun? Where's your sense of adventure?"

Rhea gave him a look that said Don't push it.

Lira's voice cut in from behind, her tone hushed.

"Keep it down. We don't know what else is down here, or if more illusions are waiting."

Mikhailis nodded, letting the banter slip away. She was right—they had no clue what lurked beyond. The catacombs might be half falling apart, but illusions or old guardians could still be active. The memory of that warden they'd faced earlier lingered, a fresh reminder that the catacombs had many ways to kill them.

Another quake rumbled overhead. Dust rained down anew, setting Mikhailis's nerves on edge. We should hurry, he thought, quickening his pace. Rhea let out a muffled grunt but didn't protest, determined to keep up. Each step took them deeper, past the remains of broken statues and fractured columns. The carvings grew more elaborate the farther they went—images of tall, thin figures robed in swirling patterns, arms extended in solemn poses. Some panels depicted what looked like battles—shadows shaped like monstrous beasts clashing with lines of robed warriors. Others seemed more peaceful, with robed individuals kneeling around a central altar that glowed with stylized mist.

Despite the pressing danger, Mikhailis couldn't help feeling a pang of curiosity. Who were these robed figures? The earlier illusions they'd seen had carried a similar motif. Could these be direct ancestors of the Mist Sovereign's power? Focus, he reminded himself, tearing his gaze from the murals. If they wanted to survive to learn more, they needed an exit.

They turned a corner, the corridor angling sharply to the right, and halted. A large slab of rock blocked their path, apparently dislodged from the ceiling. But there was a narrow gap on one side—enough that maybe they could squeeze through if they were careful.

Mikhailis let out a frustrated breath.

"I'll check it out."

He handed the fragment to Lira for a moment, ignoring the wave of anxiety that welled at the thought of letting it go.

"Just… hold it for me. If you sense something weird, shout."

Lira accepted the fragment, eyebrows raised at the sudden heaviness in her palm.

"It's warmer than I expected," she murmured, as if talking to herself.

Rhea braced herself against the wall, standing guard, while Mikhailis approached the gap. He pushed his way through carefully, ears straining for any sign of shifting stone. On the other side, he found a small space—maybe the remains of another hallway—littered with debris. A quick glance told him it wasn't a dead end.

"We can get through," he called softly. "But watch your head."

One by one, they squeezed past the jagged edges of the broken slab. Lira handed him back the fragment once she was through, relief evident in her exhale. He felt its pulse again and realized how attached he'd grown to that constant thrum. What does that say about me? he wondered, forcing the thought aside.

On the other side, the corridor continued. They shuffled through, each step accompanied by echoing crunches of gravel beneath their boots. The darkness pressed in thicker here, and the walls seemed slick with moisture. The glow from the fragment cut through the gloom, revealing faint trickles of water dribbling down from cracks overhead. Mikhailis frowned, imagining an entire underground reservoir threatening to burst. Lovely. Just add drowning to the list of ways we might die.

A strangled grunt from Rhea drew his attention. Her leg gave out for a moment, forcing her to grip him harder.

He whispered, "You okay?"

She nodded through clenched teeth.

"Fine. Just… keep going."

She refused to slow down further. That was Rhea—too stubborn for her own good, but he admired her resilience. If he insisted on carrying her, she'd probably punch him.

They pressed onward. After another minute of tense silence, the corridor opened into a larger space—a wide, domed room with a collapsed ceiling that let in faint streams of dust-laden air. Chunks of rubble lay scattered like a giant's game of marbles, and patches of collapsed arches indicated this might've once been a gathering place or small temple. The catacombs above continued to rumble, but at least there was room here to maneuver.

Lira moved to a broken column in the center, scanning for any sign of a path out.

"We could try to climb," she suggested, pointing at a gaping hole overhead.

It led upward, but they had no idea if it connected to a stable portion of the catacombs or a fresh deathtrap.

Mikhailis weighed the options. Every second spent deciding felt like an eternity with the quakes still rolling through the labyrinth. We can't stay down here, he thought, mind racing. But that hole might be sealed on the other side.

"Let's see if there's an easier passage." He gestured around the dome. There were at least two potential exits, though partially caved in. Rhea nodded, stepping forward—only to freeze as the floor trembled again.

A monstrous crack split the ground near the center of the chamber, spitting up dust and fragments of stone. Mikhailis cursed under his breath, stumbling back. Lira steadied herself with uncanny balance, her ponytail swinging behind her. A chunk of ceiling dropped from above, smashing into the floor and sending more debris flying.

This entire place is one good quake away from turning into a grave.

Rhea turned to him, eyes glinting with determination.

"We either climb or dig, but we do it now."

He swallowed, nodding. Discover hidden stories at My Virtual Library Empire

"Climb, then. Lira, you go first. I'll help Rhea."

Lira didn't argue. She sheathed her dagger and moved swiftly, scaling a broken column and pulling herself up onto a leaning slab of rock that offered a makeshift ramp. She paused, checking the stability, then beckoned.

"Careful. It's slippery."

Mikhailis wrapped an arm around Rhea's waist, ignoring her slight flush of indignation.

"Don't get any ideas," she muttered.

He forced a chuckle.

"I'll keep my mind on the mission. Promise."

She huffed but allowed it, leaning on him as they ascended. Each footstep dislodged pebbles that clattered into the darkness below. Mikhailis's muscles burned from the effort—his back still throbbing from the earlier fall—and the fragment's weight felt more insistent in his hand. The swirling power inside it seemed restless, as though it responded to every quake, every shift in the labyrinth.

Halfway up, the ground shook violently. Mikhailis and Rhea nearly lost their footing, scraping against the stone slab. Rhea bit back a scream as her injured leg twisted awkwardly, but Mikhailis tightened his hold, hauling her up.

This is insane, he thought, panic gnawing at him. We can't keep outrunning the catacombs.

A jagged crack ripped through the chamber, dust exploding in all directions. Lira, crouched on a ledge higher up, gestured frantically for them to hurry. Mikhailis pushed Rhea forward, biting back his own curses as another chunk of debris soared past, nearly clipping his shoulder.

Inch by inch, they ascended. Finally, they reached Lira's ledge, hearts pounding, lungs rasping for air in the dusty gloom. The hole overhead was close enough to see. It slanted upward, revealing a swirling sea of darkness that might lead to a corridor or might lead nowhere. But it was their best shot.

Lira tried to peer through, but the angle was too steep.

"I'll go first,"