Devil Gambit-Chapter 63 : The Castle’s Trial

The rest didn’t last long — only a few hours at most.

But for Dirga, it was enough.

He woke first.

The silence was absolute.

The kind that pressed against the eardrums like water.

The room — if it could still be called that — was draped in ancient gloom.

Dust hung in the air, unmoving.

The faded crimson of the torn carpet beneath him pulsed like dried blood in the dim glow of a rusted chandelier overhead.

Dirga sat up slowly, his body still sore from the brutal clash with Oru’Zek.

But his wounds were already healing, muscles knitting together with the quiet hum of his Zarion-enhanced regeneration.

He flexed his fingers. They no longer trembled.

"That was... actually nice," he muttered, his breath fogging slightly in the cold air.

The castle around him was still. Quiet in that unsettling way abandoned places always were — like something had died long ago... but never truly left.

His thoughts turned inward.

Concept.

Kaela’s explanation lingered like a whisper in the dark.

The Devil’s power system wasn’t just about raw strength. It was authority.

Belief forged into law. Identity turned into power. A Devil didn’t just wield a Concept — they became it.

And now, so had he.

Gravity. Telekinesis.

They weren’t tools. They were parts of him. Extensions of thought — of instinct.

Sasa hadn’t loaned him power.

He’d handed him a truth.

A real Concept.

Dirga frowned, rubbing the scar beneath his eye. "But why?"

If Sasa wanted a follower, he could’ve just handed over a sliver of his own strength.

That was the traditional path. A master. A servant. One stronger. One weaker.

But instead... freewёbnoνel-com

Sasa had given him something free.

Unshaped. Unchained.

Raw potential.

Did he not want control?

Did he want a partner?

Or a successor?

"Or maybe I’m just another piece in his game," Dirga muttered, brushing the thought aside. "Either way, I’ll ask him later."

He stood, cracking his neck with a sharp twist.

The girls were still asleep.

Kaela curled near the corner, her breathing soft, her molten gold irises hidden beneath her lids.

Theryn lay with her arms folded, cloak draped over her shoulders like a bat’s wings.

Saelari mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep, glowing blue runes flickering faintly along her arms like dreams made of starlight.

Dirga let them rest a moment longer...

Then tapped the edge of the conjured tent with a whisper of gravity.

The rune-weaved cloth shimmered — then dissolved with a whisper of wind, folding itself neatly into the compact rune-stone that dropped back into his backpack with a click.

Saelari blinked awake. "Mmm... You’re up early."

"There’s no Eye in the Sky here to tell us morning from night," Dirga replied, pulling on his jacket. "But we’ve rested enough."

Theryn sat up next, alert as ever. Kaela stirred last, stretching with a soft grunt, golden eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

Outside, the corridor yawned open — long, cold, and unnaturally still.

The castle hadn’t changed.

And yet it felt more... aware.

No windows. Just narrow arrow slits, barely wide enough for moonlight.

The usual sky — with its vast, drifting Eye — was nowhere in sight.

Whatever time it was... the castle didn’t care.

Time had died here.

...

They moved in a tight formation.

Dirga walked up front, Crimson Core floating beside his shoulder like a ghostly sentinel, its surface pulsing slowly with crimson light — breathing.

Each hallway they passed seemed more warped than the last.

Chandeliers swung slightly on chains, even when there was no wind.

Portraits watched them.

Walls shifted.

What was once a corridor now led to a bricked wall. What was a stairwell earlier twisted downward like a spiral into the abyss.

"A maze?" Saelari asked under her breath.

"No," Kaela whispered, her voice tight. "It’s a test."

Theryn’s gaze scanned the shadows. "Still no resistance. Too quiet."

"It won’t stay that way," Dirga muttered. "The deeper we go, the more likely we run into whoever — or whatever — lives here."

"If Dracula really left this castle to a Follower," Kaela said quietly, "they’ll be waiting at the top."

Dirga nodded. "Or something worse."

They moved deeper.

Each step echoed like a gunshot.

The stale air grew heavier — like the castle was breathing around them, watching, shifting.

The walls groaned.

The ceiling whined.

Even their footsteps were muffled now — as if the ground was absorbing the sound.

Then Dirga turned slightly, glancing back at the others.

"...Any idea what’s happening with the layout?"

He hated asking. Magic wasn’t his thing — he could bend gravity and throw people around, but spatial curses? Runes? Maze theory? Not his department.

Saelari tapped her chin, runes glowing subtly across her skin.

"Some sort of ancient space-folding enchantment," Kaela murmured, tracing her fingers along the jagged stone wall. "Maybe layered realities.

The castle isn’t fixed — it’s rearranging itself. Based on intent... or identity. It wants to test who we are, not just what we can do."

Theryn narrowed her eyes, scanning the shifting corridor ahead. "You mean we’re inside a trial?"

Kaela nodded. "And the castle’s the judge."

Dirga stepped forward, voice low and tense. "Then how do we beat it?"

Kaela closed her eyes, digging deep into memories — lessons from her elders, back in the world that now felt galaxies away.

The feel of scrolls, the sound of whispers passed down through generations.

Then—

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with sudden clarity.

She leapt with joy, her wavy silver-blonde hair bouncing like a dancing cloud — and her... well, her more distracting features bouncing along with it.

Dirga, Theryn, and Saelari all blinked in synchronized confusion.

"W-What?" Theryn asked, clearly bewildered.

Kaela’s face lit up with excitement. "I can see it! I know how to solve this maze."

Her fingers danced in the air as if tracing invisible threads.

"This castle... it’s not just coated in soul power — not even Concept energy.

This place is saturated with Zarion. The raw energy of the multiverse.

That’s why it’s unreadable to everyone else. It’s too unstable. Too wild. Most creatures can feel Zarion... but they don’t use it. Not directly."

She placed a hand on her chest.

"But I can. My God Eyes don’t just see it — they read it. The flow. The current. The circuitry of the realm itself."

Right now, she couldn’t reshape it — not yet — but reading it was enough.

"Follow me," she said with quiet confidence, stepping forward.

For the first time, Kaela took the lead.

Dirga walked close behind, guarding her flank like a silent sentinel.

Theryn followed next, her powers limited without nearby plantlife.

Saelari brought up the rear, her hands glowing faintly with residual rune-magic — their last line of defense if anything struck from behind.

As they moved, the path shifted around them — doors vanishing, hallways twisting — yet Kaela never hesitated.

"There’s a Zarion circuit running through this place," she explained. "Invisible threads of power woven into the architecture. If we follow it, we’ll reach the source."

"The source?" Dirga asked.

Kaela glanced back. "Probably the devil who owns this domain. Maybe a test. Maybe a trap. But either way..."

Her voice dropped.

"We’re getting close."

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