Following the clues from the adventurers they'd rescued, Gauss and Alia headed out.
"No telling if the entrance has moved…" Alia fretted.
Gauss's gaze locked onto an unusual cave mouth in a distant rock face that slanted downward.
Beside the rock wall, a crooked-necked tree cast a twisted shadow in the dim light.
"Rock wall. Crooked tree… yeah, that's it."
He tapped Alia and pointed.
"Alia, found it."
They hurried to the cave.
Before them yawned a pitch-black passage and a flight of stone steps running down.
Just looking into it, an inexplicable pull seemed to well up from below, as if silently calling explorers onward.
It matched the description in the Labyrinth Guide exactly.
According to the guide, a labyrinth has many tiers, and the link between "floors" is usually a single two-way passage. In Gauss's understanding, it's like many discrete spaces stacked together, connected by specific tunnels. The exit at the lower end is fixed, while the entrance at the upper end shifts around the upper floor on a cycle—like a "space worm" anchored at one end.
So each floor has two "mouths": the downward entrance that moves about, and the upward exit in a fixed place—though each time you return to the upper floor, you may pop out somewhere different than before.
"We should get in fast," Gauss said. Before a downward entrance vanishes and reappears elsewhere, there's a period where it goes "hidden," and no one knows when it will shift.
They traded a look, then without further hesitation—wolf Ulfen and raven Echo in tow—stepped onto the stairway into the unknown.
The moment they entered the passage, the world changed in an indescribable way.
The air rippled like water; space itself felt subtle and blurred.
A cool energy swept through Gauss like an invisible scan, then vanished—so fast it felt like an illusion. He steadied his mind and focused ahead.
The interior was nothing like the first floor: no strong natural light, only a faint phosphorescence seeping from the rock, the whole place dim and oppressive.
He cast Light, pushing the dark back.
"The guide said these passages use some kind of spatial force to actually lead you into the next floor," Gauss recalled as they descended.
Reading about it is one thing; seeing it makes the labyrinth's wonder sink in.
"So in theory, even if someone furiously dug down from above, they'd never reach the next floor. The only way is through these special corridors."
He rapped the wall—iron-hard, as if wrapped in an unseen tough film.
They're said to be "indestructible," at least to low-tier professionals like them.
The passage was long.
After a good while, a hint of light showed ahead.
As they stepped out, that strange feeling—like crossing a boundary in time and space—washed over them again.
Gauss dismissed Light.
He and Alia looked up—and were immediately captivated by the second floor's vista.
Unlike the desolate first floor of ruins, broken walls, and sparse greenery, Level Two was a lush, living Verdant World.
Ground, rock, even leftover architectural bones were carpeted in thick clusters of odd, ball-like shrubs or algae.
Dark red, thorned vines wound among them like blood vessels.
In the air, countless soft-glowing firefly-like insects drifted, their pinpricks of light washing the greenery in a dreamlike haze.
"It's… beautiful!" Alia breathed.
"No wonder the guide said Level One is too influenced by the surface and feels barren. The Labyrinth's true strangeness starts on Level Two—this is where you really enter its world…"
Ulfen seemed to feel the denser natural aura too and let out an excited rumble; Echo cocked his head on Alia's shoulder, peering about.
"Agreed," Gauss nodded.
He glanced at the glowbugs overhead. A thought—and a tiny insect was pinched midair by invisible Mage Hand.
A gentle squeeze—pop.
The bug, its tail swollen into a glowing sphere, burst in the unseen grip.
No response in his monster compendium, as expected—just ordinary light-bearing fauna, not monsters.
Likely because the downward exit was fixed here, there were many obvious signs of human traffic: scattered footprints, a few dead campfires, bits of trash.
Not far off stood several old stone benches.
Beside them, a signpost etched with ancient, unreadable script.
Neither of them could make it out.
Gauss quietly memorized the shapes of the characters and asked, "Which way next?"
Level Two felt a bit more compressed than One—the ceiling lower, big mats of plant life trailing down.
"You decide," Alia said as before, leaving the choice to him.
"Alright…" Gauss looked around.
Always being the one to pick gets a little headachey sometimes.
Unfamiliar ground meant they didn't dare send Echo too far to scout, in case something happened.
He narrowed his eyes; the faint traces in his vision sharpened again.
Confused footprints and tracks on the ground stood out clearly.
"Let's take the path with the fewest people."
They didn't want to run into too many strangers—and more people meant slimmer pickings.
"Then this way?"
Gauss chose the direction with the fewest prints.
"Watch your step."
The path was hemmed in by dense, ball-like shrubs and algae, with tiny insects creeping in the gaps—making hidden traps harder to spot.
So he kept the pace slow and warned Alia to stick close to his heels.
Wearing the Horn Bangle, Gauss swept the way ahead with wary eyes.
Suddenly—
A gust knifed down from overhead without warning!
Luckily he'd been keyed up tight as a bowstring; the instant he caught the sound, his legs—boosted by Enhanced Jump—coiled and sprang like a released spring.
He grabbed Alia's arm, yanked her back, and they retreated several meters.
Only then did they see the attacker.
A grotesque plant—and it moved. A thick vine rooted deep in the ceiling rock at one end, the other ending in a bud the size of a human head.
The bud gaped wide at them, revealing a mouth lined with tiny barbs; clear, viscous drool dripped from its "lips," pattering on the ground.
"What is that—man-eating flower?" Gauss muttered, a little taken aback.