Chapter 551: 548 Hangman

Marching through the ridiculously long corridor, corrupt with debauchery, the trio came upon a large wooden door. Inspecting their weary appearances, and clearly noticeable fatigue both physically and mentally, Robin offered no words of comfort as she was equally as exhausted from the constant mental-assaults that swarmed them.

Ignoring her own mental-health and emotions, she soldiered on as she marched into the next stage with two mithril daggers thirsting for blood.

 

Entering, the trio were quite surprised to find themselves in familiar ground. The same cathedral hall welcomed them as they entered from the very far rear, the hundreds of benches, pillows, candles, crystals and podium were all positioned exactly like prior. Except, as if a thousand years had passed, dust, decay, rot and mould covered the entire place as the furniture was equally crooked and collapsing from the joints.

Seeing as the great hall was eerily similarly laid out like before, Robin swiftly made her way to and onto the podium, checking the single piece of parchment that was once again there.

 

 

Don't Look up

 

 

Naturally, Robin instantly threw her golden eyes skywards, quick to scrutinize the hundreds of crystals that came in all shapes and sizes that decorated the ceiling.

 

"NO NO NO NO NO! It says don't look up, not look up you dimwit!"

 

Pivoting upon her toes and launching two precise throwing knives, one for each eye, a man dressed in a three-piece suit with peak-lapels, a rose within his chest pocket, a monocle and a brilliantly-styled moustache, grinned delightfully as the two blades clashed against a hidden barrier that protected him.

 

Robin Sol, Istvan Deuce and the surviving templar were all quick to lower their stance in reaction towards a possible hostile entity. However, to their surprise, what was waddling towards them across the spacious-stage was a large golden picture frame with a man painted upon it.

Seeing as it had their attention entirely, as well as their natural curiosity, the gentleman removed his top-hat whilst performing a little curtsy, revealing his greys and whites, and leaving his walking-cane that was coated entirely in gold afloat besides him.

 

"Welcome, welcome! I am Dolos. This is my home, my playground, my baby. You are my guests, and as such, I welcome thee!" Calmly shifting his gaze across the three, patiently meeting their gazes and tasting the nerves that crept across their backs like worms, Dolos continued. "Robin Sol Istvan Deuce, Ian. I'm aware of your desires, you wish to find these two fine men of culture do you not?"

 

Two golden portraits materialized high above his own, lingering within the air and portraying Victor Del Lagos shackled and hanging within mid-air unconsciously, whilst the other portrait depicted Asai de Trichia sinking into the deep-abyss, oxygen bubbles leaving him as his body continued to sink under water. The portraits continued to cycle and repeat, every 5 seconds, resetting as if it were a moment in time captured for eternity.

 

Seeing his guests grit their teeth in frustration, and harnessing thoughts towards fighting him.

 

"Now now, they're still alive and saveable." Clapping his hands together as he licked his dry lips, he grinned delightfully as he shivered in joy and excitement. "Apologies, it has been quite some time since I've entertained guests. And so, without further ado, I shall explain the rules of the game." Fixing the monocle that was slightly falling back into position, ensuring his tie was perfectly positioned and even checking his own breath to ensure it was still minty fresh, he suddenly cracked his cane against the flooring as the lighting within the cathedral hall lit up like a concert hall.

 

"Ladies and gentleman! I present to thee! HANG MAN!

Riddles and puzzles galore~ Entertainment, laughter and more~ Answer correctly and I shall personally transport you to your goals, answer incorrectly, and forfeit shall be your souls!"

 

Upon the far back of the stage, just under the towering statues depicting the gods and angels, a massive guillotine appeared. With a blade dripping with blood, as if it had recently decapitated others, and wooden latches meant for three, even with three baskets positioned before the gaps meant to lock its victim in position, a gloriously beautiful hymn played as Dolos theatrically stretched his arms out towards the sides as if under applause.

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Seeing the lack lustre response from his visitors, he had to perform a double take over his own shoulder before his deathly-pale cheeks flushed a deep red in embarrassment.

 

"Silly me~" Banging his cane once more, the guillotine disappeared before scaffolding frames took its place, a single rope hung from the horizontal beam, whilst 4 thick-pieces of rope stretched across the flooring in place of the usual wooden-planks.

 

"Now. Tell me, which one of you will be the brave soul, willing to put his neck upon the line?" Dolos giggled, as he found his own pun hilarious.

 

Robin's gaze fell upon the two, not out of fear of death, but the desire to not leave Asai alone within a world that burdened him with so much.

 

Istvan and Ian kept glancing at one and another, but it was evident as to who would climb the stage, as the Istvan was naturally worth more in gold and steel than the typical templar. Thus, Ian gulped down his nerves, as he wobbled up the stair, across the 4 thick pieces of rope that was positioned just under the noose. As if it was impatient, and annoyed by the speed the man traversed at, the rope sprung to life as it wrapped itself tightly around the templar's neck, securing him as his toes just barely dangled upon the 4 pieces of rope below for support.

 

 

A thin veil of light separated Dolos and Ian from Robin Sol and Istvan Deuce, as he was finally satisfied enough to proceed.

 

"Our first question shall be a warm up, since I do enjoy appreciating the beauties of elves, and their delectable and scrumptious bouncy breasts~" Even with his gaze deliberately lingering across Robin's body, the half-elf remained hard-headed as she continued to scrutinize Dolos in return, hoping to catch clues or hints to better serve their current predicament.

"Ahem* As you can- actually you probably can't, not from your position, but there are 4 pieces of rope keeping your friend afloat, for the dum-dums that don't understand." 

Dolos lingered his gaze on Istvan to ensure his point was made.

"Answer incorrectly 4 times, and your friend dies. Answer incorrectly 3 times, and he will still have a single rope to keep him from falling~ As for how many questions I shall ask... I don't know. Why are you looking at me for? I'm not omniscient. HA!"

 

 

Ian was already praying and mumbling scripture, as the rope seemingly caressed his neck tightly, soothing his muscles as if it were a lover.

 

 

"The king of a nation has no brothers, no sisters, no cousins and no aunts or uncles, but has five princesses, each has a brother. How many children did the king personally sire?"

 

 

 

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