Journey of the Scholar

The Raven Master puffed out his chest, still maintaining his old man disguise. "Luck? No, no, no. It was a calculated strategy of deception. Classic. What do you know about the art of wobbly knees, hmm?"

The crowd erupted into chaos, everyone arguing about the outcome of the fight, with several gamblers rushing to collect their winnings.

The Raven Master, however, stood in the middle of it all, looking incredibly proud of himself for his "strategic" bet.

He carefully pocketed his winnings, making sure no one saw just how much gold he had gathered.

"Ah, gambling's not so bad," he mumbled with a satisfied grin. "Though I still prefer a good book."

As he was about to leave the gambling ring, the same scarred gambler approached him, now looking more interested in the "old man's" strange insights.

"Hey, old timer, you think you could lend me some of that 'wobbly knees' wisdom? You seem to know your stuff."

The Raven Master narrowed his eyes, adopting a more serious tone. "It's not just about wobbly knees, young one. It's about understanding the balance of the universe. "

"The ebb and flow of battle. The subtle art of deception."

The gambler nodded enthusiastically, hanging on every word.

"For example," the Raven Master continued, "take those two over there." He pointed toward another pair of fighters who had just entered the ring.

"One of them is clearly overconfident, while the other is—"

The gambler interrupted. "You're gonna say the wobbly one will win, right?"

The Raven Master blinked. "Well, no, not exactly. The wobbly one looks like he just ate too much cabbage. But that's besides the point."

The gambler scratched his head. "Cabbage?"

"Yes, cabbage. The key to understanding any fight is not just strength, but... digestion."

The gambler looked thoroughly confused now. "Digestion? Old man, what are you talking about?"

The Raven Master sighed dramatically. "Ah, the youth these days. No appreciation for the finer details. You see, digestion affects one's balance. "

"A fighter who's overeaten or hasn't digested his meal properly is bound to have wobbly knees. But it's not the same kind of wobble that wins you the fight. No, no. It's the kind of wobble that lands you flat on your face."

The gambler scratched his head, looking at the fighters again. "So, wait... you're saying the fighter who ate cabbage is gonna lose?"

"Precisely!" the Raven Master exclaimed, as if this was the most obvious conclusion in the world. "The cabbage never lies."

The gambler looked back at the ring, trying to figure out which of the fighters had eaten cabbage. "But... how do you know which one had cabbage?"

The Raven Master leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "A true master never reveals his secrets."

The gambler was now thoroughly intrigued, convinced the old man was some kind of fighting genius. "Alright, old man, I'm betting on the one who didn't have cabbage!"

The fight began, and as predicted by the Raven Master's strange logic, the cabbage-consumed fighter started to wobble—clearly from indigestion, if his pale face and groaning were anything to go by.

Within moments, the fighter doubled over, clutching his stomach, and was knocked out by a swift punch from his opponent.

The gambler jumped up in excitement. "You did it! You were right again!"

The Raven Master nodded sagely, though inwardly he had no idea what had just happened. "Of course. It was all part of the plan."

As the gambler rushed off to collect his winnings, the Raven Master muttered under his breath, "Generation gap. I swear, they'll believe anything these days."

He dusted off his hands, looking around the rowdy arena. It wasn't exactly the quiet bookshop he preferred, but at least it was a good distraction while Ruchir dealt with whatever chaos was happening inside the secret realm.

With a final sigh, he shuffled away, mumbling about cabbage and digestion, leaving behind a group of thoroughly confused but very rich gamblers.

"Next time," he grumbled to himself, "I'm sticking to Go."

______

Meanwhile.

The eerie chime of the bell reverberated through the chamber, its sound more ominous than before.

The walls rippled, responding to the resonance, shifting like liquid metal around the group. Ruchir stood still, his sharp eyes focused on the bell as it hung motionless in the air, waiting to strike again.

"The trial isn't over," he said, his voice low but steady. His grip tightened on his sword.

Mei took a step back, glancing at Ruchir. "But we just defeated our reflections. What more could this trial possibly want from us?"

Zhen groaned, still seated on the ground. "Let me guess, more mind games?"

Huojin's fists ignited with fire once again, ready for battle. "No. This time, it feels different. The air—it's too heavy."

Ruchir nodded. "We've faced ourselves. But now, I think we face the trial itself."

Suddenly, the bell gave off another chime—louder, sharper, as though it were demanding their attention.

The ground beneath them began to shake, and the walls of the chamber started to twist inwards, reshaping themselves into a giant, spiraling staircase that led upward to the very top of the tower.

"Look," Mei said, pointing. At the highest point of the spiral was a colossal bell—larger than any they had encountered before.

It shimmered with an ethereal light, glowing like molten gold. Around it, several smaller bells hung, each a different size, each emitting a faint, eerie hum. 

Zhen sighed. "And here I was hoping for a peaceful exit."

Ruchir narrowed his eyes. "This is the final part of the trial."

Mei frowned, her hand resting on her sword's hilt. "We need to reach the top, right? What's the catch?"

Ruchir, silent for a moment, surveyed the chamber. "These bells aren't just for decoration. Every step we take will trigger them, and I suspect they each control something within the trial. We'll have to be strategic about how we move and which ones we ring."

Huojin stepped forward, his face set with determination. "I'm not afraid of a few bells."

"It's not that simple," Ruchir said quickly. "Each bell might unleash something—an attack, a trap, maybe even summon guardians. If we're not careful, we could trigger all of them at once."

Mei crossed her arms. "So, how do we know which ones to avoid?"

Ruchir thought for a moment, his eyes scanning the layout of the bells. He pointed at the nearest bell, a smaller one with an inscription that gleamed faintly in the dim light.

"That one has a symbol of calm water. It likely suppresses movement. We'll need to ring it to keep the chamber from shifting beneath us."

Zhen stood up, dusting himself off. "I hate that I'm saying this, but... good call."

Huojin grinned. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Ruchir held up a hand to stop him. "Wait. If we ring that one, we need to be prepared for the others to react. Mei, Zhen—you focus on defending us from anything the other bells might trigger. Huojin and I will handle the suppression bell."

Mei and Zhen nodded, though the tension in the air was palpable. No one could predict what would come next.

With slow, deliberate steps, Ruchir and Huojin approached the smaller bell. The moment they were within a few feet, the bell emitted a soft, high-pitched tone.

The sound sent ripples through the floor, causing the chamber to momentarily freeze, as though time itself had been stilled.

Huojin reached out and, with a quick flick of his wrist, struck the bell.

A wave of shimmering blue energy radiated from it, and instantly the floor beneath them stopped shifting. The chamber seemed to stabilize.

But just as they felt a brief moment of relief, the other bells began to hum louder. One of the larger bells to their left, engraved with a symbol of fire, trembled and gave off a deep, resonant tone.

"Get ready!" Ruchir shouted, unsheathing his sword.

From the large bell burst forth a massive wave of fire, swirling through the air like a serpent. Mei reacted instantly, drawing her sword and leaping forward to intercept the flame.

She slashed through the fire, her blade flashing with bright energy, but it wasn't enough to stop the entire attack.

"Huojin!" Ruchir called.

Without missing a beat, Huojin thrust both his hands forward, unleashing his own fire techniques to counter the blaze.

Flames collided with flames, creating a roaring inferno that illuminated the entire chamber.

The heat was unbearable, but Huojin gritted his teeth and pushed back, refusing to let the fire overwhelm them.

"Is this really the trial's idea of a test?" Zhen muttered, shielding his face from the heat.

"It's testing our coordination," Ruchir said, his voice grim. "We have to balance the bells. If we only ring one, the others will retaliate."

Mei nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. "So we have to ring multiple bells in the right sequence?"

"Exactly," Ruchir replied, his mind racing. "We need to create harmony between the bells. If we can ring the right combination, we can neutralize their effects."

Zhen groaned. "You're asking us to play a deadly game of musical chairs."

Huojin, still holding back the fiery onslaught, growled. "I don't care what it is—just tell us which bell to hit next!"

Ruchir's eyes scanned the chamber once more, searching for a pattern, a clue. His gaze fell on a bell at the far end of the chamber, one with an inscription of lightning.

"That one! Mei, Zhen—ring the lightning bell. It should disrupt the fire."

Without hesitation, Mei and Zhen rushed toward the lightning bell. As they approached, the bell let out a crackling sound, as though charged with energy. Zhen, ever the joker, gave a half-hearted laugh. "If this kills me, I'm haunting you, Ruchir."

"Noted," Ruchir called back, his focus unwavering.

Mei struck the lightning bell, and a burst of electricity shot through the chamber.

The lightning surged toward the fire serpent, slicing through it and dissipating the flames in an instant. The chamber fell silent once more, the oppressive heat vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

For a moment, no one moved. The bells remained still, their hums fading into the background.

Zhen let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "So... did we win?"

Ruchir's grip on his sword relaxed slightly, but he shook his head. "Not yet. The final bell—the large one at the top—it hasn't rung. That's the one that controls the trial."

Huojin frowned. "Then let's go ring it."

But as they began to ascend the spiral staircase toward the final bell, the walls around them began to ripple once again, shifting and changing.

The staircase stretched out, elongating unnaturally as if the distance to the top was growing farther away with each step they took.

"This isn't good," Mei muttered, glancing around. "The maze is coming back."

Zhen groaned. "I thought we were done with that!"

Ruchir clenched his jaw. "The trial knows we're getting close. It's trying to stop us. Stay focused."

Step by step, they climbed the endless staircase, the bells around them occasionally humming, threatening to unleash more chaos at any moment. But Ruchir's mind was clear now, his concentration unwavering.

Finally, they reached the top, standing before the colossal bell. Its golden surface shimmered with an otherworldly light, casting long shadows across the group.

"This is it," Ruchir said quietly, stepping forward.

Huojin, his flames flickering softly around his fists, nodded. "Let's end this."

Ruchir reached out, his hand hovering just above the surface of the bell. For a moment, he hesitated, feeling the weight of the trial pressing down on him. But then, with a single, decisive strike, he rang the final bell.

The sound that followed was unlike any they had heard before—deep, resonant, and powerful. It echoed throughout the chamber, shaking the very foundation of the trial. The walls began to shimmer and fade, the labyrinth dissolving into mist.

And then, silence.

The trial had ended. They had won.

Zhen looked around, disbelief on his face. "Did we... did we actually do it?"

Mei smiled, though exhaustion was evident in her eyes. "Looks like it."

Ruchir sheathed his sword, his body finally relaxing. "We did."

But as they prepared to leave the chamber, a soft chime echoed once more—a faint, distant sound, as though something still lingered.

The trial might have ended, but something else was waiting for them beyond.

Mei frustated,"Why the hell bell doesn't stop?"