The crowd hadn't thinned; if anything, the buzz only intensified. Merchants continued to peddle enchanted gear, children raced around the plazas pretending to be dungeon bosses, and nobles observed the glowing projections with calculated interest.
Suddenly, the floating screens darkened and a new voice echoed through magical amplifiers — calm, clear, and authoritative.
Announcer:
"Attention all challengers and citizens of Nyvaris. This is an official update from the Supreme One's council. The Labyrinth's difficulty, monster strength, and environmental hazards dynamically adjust to the power level of those who enter. Whether you are a novice swordsman or a seasoned Demon Lord, the Labyrinth will match you — and test you."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Citizen: "Did he say it scales to your power?"Young Mage: "So no overpowering the early floors then..."Old Knight: "It's not just a dungeon. It's a mirror. It reads your soul."
Another wave of adventurers stood at the threshold of the Labyrinth's obsidian gate. This group was diverse — a masked beastman paladin, a cloaked necromancer with an undead raven perched on her shoulder, a cheerful gnome bard tuning a harp, and a brooding warlock whose eyes shimmered with eldritch fire.
Beastman Paladin: "No turning back now. Let's bring honor to the Crescent Order."Necromancer: "And maybe collect some bones while we're at it."
They crossed the threshold. Instantly, the Labyrinth responded — reshaping.
The screens above changed. This floor was a frozen tundra, with biting winds, icy chasms, and lumbering frost beasts. The necromancer smirked.
Necromancer: "It knows what we are. Good."
On Floor 6, a party of young adventurers stumbled upon a curious sight — a village of small, glowing creatures with moss-covered skin and big eyes.
Glimpurs, as the guidebook later identified them.
One of the creatures waddled forward, holding up a crystal flower.
Glimpur Elder: "Help... us... stop the Spore Tyrant... he poisons the springs... We give shiny gifts if you help!"
The adventurers accepted. They ventured into a toxic marsh, fought fungal beasts, and defeated the massive Spore Tyrant — a grotesque, pulsating mushroom entity. Upon returning, they were showered with glimmering dust and granted a rare water affinity charm.
Rogue Adventurer: "We're doing quests inside the dungeon now?"
Cleric: "This place is alive... it's like another world."
Inside a marble viewing chamber high above the city, nobles and generals from various nations gathered.
General Bauren of Thalion: "A perfect training ground. Adaptive environments, intelligent threats... this could replace our entire war college."
Lady Serina of Ruberios: "Imagine our knights trained here. The Labyrinth could harden them like no academy ever could."
Duke Eltrane of Siltrosso: "Or break them. This isn't just training — it's trial by fire."
In a separate, secluded balcony crafted of dark crystal, a familiar aura thickened the air. Guy Crimson, accompanied by Luminous Valentine, Leon Cromwell, and Milim Nava, stood overlooking the projection.
Guy Crimson: "So this is the Supreme One's playground."
Leon: "It's... magnificent. I've never seen something that reacts so seamlessly to power. A work of pure logic and madness."
Luminous: "My Paladins could learn much from this place. And so could I."
They turned as Varvatos appeared behind them, silent until now.
Varvatos: "Curious, are we?"
Milim: "I want to fight something BIG! Like... volcano dragon big!"
Guy (grinning): "We're thinking of testing it ourselves."
Varvatos (smiling faintly): "Remember, the Labyrinth adapts. If you enter... be prepared. It will recognize your titles, your skills, your history, your ambition... and it will answer in kind."
Silence fell over the Demon Lords. The weight of his words wasn't lost on them.
Leon: "So we wouldn't be testing the Labyrinth... we'd be testing ourselves."
Guy: "Heh... I like that."
Back within the Labyrinth, on Floor 15, an elf named Kaelen reached a hidden chamber behind a mimic wall. Inside, a silver chest awaited. As he approached, he was challenged by a mirror doppelganger — an exact replica of himself.
After an intense duel of mirrored strikes and illusions, Kaelen triumphed. The chest opened with a warm light, revealing an Evershade Cloak — granting invisibility for 10 seconds after any dodge.
Back in Nyvaris, vendors scrambled to adjust pricing as these rare items became the new obsession.
Merchant: "We appraise! We buy! Bring your Labyrinth gear here!"
Blacksmith: "Want it reforged? Add enchantments? I've got a backlog already!"
As day turned to dusk, the sky blazed orange and violet. Magical projections now streamed to nearby nations through enchanted mirrors. The world watched. From taverns in Dwargon to the holy halls of Ruberios, all eyes were on Nyvaris.
Narrator (magical voice-over):
"The Labyrinth is not a place. It is a challenge. A forge. A mirror. And above all... a call. Will you answer it?"
The streets were still vibrant with life—stalls bustling with last-minute shoppers, children running with festival trinkets in hand, musicians playing cheerful tunes. The joy was undeniable, but beneath it lingered a melancholy truth—this unforgettable celebration was nearing its end.
Inside a private garden within the royal district, the Demon Lords—Guy Crimson, Milim Nava, Leon Cromwell, and Luminous Valentine—stood before Varvatos, their expressions more serious than usual.
Guy Crimson crossed his arms with a smirk. "You know, Varvatos… after everyone leaves and things quiet down, we were thinking… we want to try the Labyrinth ourselves."
Milim bounced on her toes, her eyes glittering with excitement. "Yeah! It looks super fun! I wanna fight those monsters that grow stronger with me!"
Leon adjusted his cape and nodded thoughtfully. "It's not just curiosity. The Labyrinth could serve as a powerful gauge for our current capabilities. A place to train, to sharpen ourselves."
Luminous, composed as ever, simply said, "I've seen its complexity. I admit—I'm intrigued. You've crafted something extraordinary."
Varvatos smiled faintly, hands behind his back. "Of course. After the festival ends, the Labyrinth will be at your disposal. But remember—it adapts. If you think it'll be the same Labyrinth others faced, you'd be wrong. Your enemies inside will reflect your true strength… and your weaknesses."
The Demon Lords exchanged glances. None of them backed down.
Back in the city center, the atmosphere was slowly shifting. Shoppers haggled less and began to linger, children clung to toys and parents, their laughter dimmed by the knowledge of imminent departure.
At one corner, a merchant from Siltrosso, bags full of rare minerals and enchanted goods, spoke to a fellow trader.
Merchant: "I've never made profits like these. The people of Nyvaris, they actually care about the quality of trade."
Trader: "It's not just the business. Look around… when was the last time you saw nobles, commoners, adventurers, and kings all dancing under the same lights?"
Near the gates, a king from a smaller kingdom sighed as he spoke to his escort.
King: "I regret not securing that alliance meeting with Varvatos… but I also understand. He's no ruler of convention. You don't corner a god with politics."
Escort: "Still, the opportunity to be here was invaluable, Your Majesty."
In the plaza, children clung to their parents, tears glistening in their eyes.
Child: "I don't wanna go, papa! I want to stay here! The food! The games! The dragon man!"
Father: "I know, little one. Maybe we'll return next year… if there's another festival."
On a large projection above the plaza, Varvatos suddenly appeared, standing atop the Grand Spire, his figure cloaked in starlight, his voice carrying with warmth and strength.
"To all who came to Nyvaris, to those who laughed, feasted, dueled, and dreamed among us—I thank you. This city was not built just with stone and magic, but with hope. You brought life to it. And perhaps… this will not be the last time we do something like this. We may meet again—under brighter skies and louder cheers. Until then… let Nyvaris live in your hearts."
The crowd grew silent, moved by the sincerity and power in his voice.
But then came the murmurs, rising from the people below:
"We don't want to leave!"
"Please, let us stay!"
"Nyvaris is like a dream…"
"Do we really have to go?"
The voices echoed across the city, some pleading, some wistful.
Watching this from a high balcony were Benimaru, Diablo, Veldora, and Shion, arms folded or resting on rails, observing the reactions below.
Benimaru chuckled softly. "They don't want to leave."
Shion leaned on his shoulder. "Can you blame them? I've lived here for years, and even I feel that way every morning."
Veldora, who had become the children's favorite "dragon uncle," pouted. "If they all left, who will play with me now?"
Diablo, calmly observing, added, "Varvatos-sama has created more than a nation. He's given people a glimpse of what the world could be. No wonder they don't want to go."
Elsewhere, Rimuru was walking with Shizu, guiding her through the winding streets of Nyvaris as the stars began to twinkle above. The warm glow of lanterns bathed the path, and soft music played from a distant square.
Shizu, smiling gently, said, "So… Varvatos said I can stay here?"
Rimuru nodded with a grin. "Yup. I asked him earlier. He agreed without hesitation. Said someone like you would fit right into Nyvaris."
Shizu looked up at the night sky, her eyes reflecting the dancing lights. "It's beautiful… peaceful. I've wandered for so long. Maybe now… I can rest. Teach, even."
The final evening of the festival was a glowing dream—lanterns rising into the sky, fireworks painting the heavens, music drifting like a soft lullaby across the city.
And though many would depart at dawn, none would forget.
Because Nyvaris wasn't just a place—it had become a memory etched in the soul.