The Dylan Gardens unfolded like a dream land forged for herbologist and potion masters, a sprawling labyrinth of vibrant herbs and shimmering air, its beauty laced with a quiet menace that whispered of forgotten power.
'This secret realm is following the Kukeral period arrangements.' Leylin thought as he observed the Dylan Gardens.
The cave's oppressive gloom had given way to this verdant expanse, its borders marked by crystalline streams that glowed faintly with arcane energy, their waters murmuring secrets in a tongue long dead.
The ground was a mosaic of fertile earth and runed stone, each step releasing the heady scent of rare blooms, their petals pulsing with latent magic.
Above, a false sky shimmered, its stars fixed in patterns that echoed the constellations of a bygone era, casting a soft, ethereal light over the garden. Yet the air was heavy, charged with the weight of a defensive formation, its presence a silent threat.
Leylin stood at the garden's edge, his hand massaging the back of his neck, his bright brown eyes scanning the lush expanse with a mix of caution and hunger.
The Black Horrall Snake's blood pulsed in his runed vial, its power a constant thrum in his mind, but Dylan Gardens inheritance held more, a probability of an advanced meditation techniques and bloodlines.
Even this vast expanse of herbs was a treasure worth millions of magic crystals but Leylin didn't care much for the wealth. With the Cursed Bloodline Codex, his path to future was the blood of superior beings.
And he needed advanced meditation techniques to further walk on the path of Magus, which was his obsession, the keys to transcending his limits.
His heart thudded with ambition, his voice a low, thoughtful mutter, laced with a quiet intensity as he weighed his options, his fingers kneading the tension in his neck. "This place is a puzzle, just like the Kukeral period's traps," he said, his tone heavy with calculation, his mind racing through ancient texts. "Touch anything without solving it, and the defensive formation kicks in probably throws me to the center, facing some spirit body if I'm reading this right."
He paced, his boots sinking into the soft earth, his voice a soft, fervent whisper, his tone thick with a restless energy as he thought aloud, his heart pounding with the stakes. "If I trigger it, I'm gambling on surviving whatever's at the core. Solve the mechanism, though, and the defenses shut down, clear the path to the inheritance."
His eyes narrowed, his mind grappling with the risk, as he considered the Kukeral norm—a timer, ticking down to an explosion, but not starting until the core inheritance was touched.
"There's always a timer in these places, but it's dormant until I grab the prize. I've got time to play this smart." His tone was grim, his heart steady with the clarity of his choice, his ambition a fire that burned hotter than fear of whatever dangers lurked here.
Leylin's voice hardened, a spark of resolve igniting in his chest, his tone alive with a fierce determination as he made his decision, his eyes glowing with a predatory light. "I'll solve it," he said, his words sharp and certain, his heart thudding with the thrill of the challenge. "The inheritor wouldn't lock this place down without a final test, there's got to be rewards for cracking the code, and I'm not leaving without them."
He stepped into the garden, his movements deliberate, his greed for power a steady pulse in his veins, the air thick with the scent of herbs—Starfire Bloom, its crimson petals used in potions to amplify spiritual force density; Moonshade Fern, a rare ingredient for experiments enhancing elemental affinity; and Ether Lotus, its pale blue flowers essential for crafting tranquilizing elixirs that calmed the mind for breakthroughs.
Each herb was a treasure, many extinct outside these walls, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the cave's gloom, their magic humming in the air like a distant song.
The garden was vast, its paths winding through groves of glowing plants and runed obelisks, their surfaces etched with Kukeral symbols that pulsed faintly, as if alive. Leylin walked for what felt like hours, his boots brushing against Firethorn Vines, their barbed tendrils used in potions to boost physical resilience, and past clusters of Dawnpetal Orchids, their golden blooms prized for experiments stabilizing volatile spells.
"Nothing but herbs." He muttered, his voice was a low, frustrated growl, his tone laced with a restless irritation as he scanned the endless rows, his heart thudding with the weight of his search.
Soon his eyes narrowed as he paused by a patch of Voidbell Flowers, their black petals used in rituals to commune with shadow elements. "It's quite irritating to be near so much wealth but unable to take any. What a sadistic way to stir greed in a magus heart, but where's the mechanism? The inheritor didn't build this place for me to sniff flowers."
His eyes darted around curiously, his mind sharp with the need to uncover the garden's secrets, his ambition a fire that refused to dim.
He stopped at an empty clearing, the earth bare but humming with latent energy, his voice a soft, calculating whisper, his tone thick with focus as he knelt, his hand tracing the ground, his heart steady with purpose. "If the herbs aren't the key, maybe the space itself is," he said, his words slow and deliberate, his eyes glinting with a predatory light.
He drew a rune feather from his belt, its tip glinting in the false starlight, and began carving a rune into the earth, its lines glowing faintly as he chanted, his voice a deep, resonant incantation, laced with a fervent urgency that stirred the air.
"Secrets of the ancients, unveil your truth, divulge the path hidden in shadow, let the light of wisdom guide my hand!" His words echoed, the rune pulsing, the air humming with arcane energy, his heart pounding with the hope of revelation, his mind locked on the puzzle.
But the rune flickered and died, its glow fading into the earth, the clearing unchanged.
"Damn it, rune lock!" Leylin's brows furrowed, his voice a low, frustrated snarl, his tone thick with irritation as he stood, his heart thudding with the setback.
"Why isn't there anything?" he said, his words quick and bitter, his eyes narrowing as he pocketed the feather inside his robe, his mind racing with possibilities. "This is trickier than I thought, my research in rune formation isn't less than an Official Magus, if these were meant to be solved by an Acolyte, the formations shouldn't be so hard. I'm missing something." His tone was grim, his ambition a fire that burned hotter with the challenge, his heart steady despite the failure, his greed for the inheritance a constant pulse in his soul.
He turned his attention to the garden's layout, his eyes tracing the spiral arrangements of the herbs, their patterns a subtle clue he'd overlooked.
'Ah yes, the creator is quite fond of puzzles, there must be something hiding in the way these plants are arranged.'
He pulled a worn notebook from his satchel, its pages filled with his meticulous scrawls, and began sketching, his voice a soft, thoughtful mutter, his tone laced with a quiet focus as he worked, his heart thudding with the thrill of discovery. "The herbs aren't random," he said, his words slow and deliberate, his pencil scratching as he noted the Firethorn Vines spiraling with Starfire Blooms, both fire-aligned, and the Moonshade Ferns curling with Ether Lotuses, both tied to tranquility.
"Fire elements in a spiral, shadow elements in another, water, earth—every group's arranged like a damn galaxy, converging somewhere." His tone was fervent, his eyes glowing with intensity as he drew each spiral, their lines merging at a single point in the garden's heart, where a lone herb stood, its yellow petals humble but pulsing with a subtle magic.
Leylin's voice was a low, incredulous whisper, his tone thick with realization as he studied the flower, his heart pounding with the weight of his discovery, his eyes blazing faintly.
"An Alpha Daisy?" he said, his words quick and fervent, his mind racing through his knowledge of herbs. 'Outside, the key to enter the secret realm were the Beta Daisy but inside the key is Alpha Daisy, why is this guy obsessed with these flowers?'
"Unlike the Beta Daisy, these aren't unless it's the key ingredient used in brewing tranquilizing potions to calm the mind, stabilize the spirit. The inheritor hid the mechanism in plain sight." Leylin puzzled by the puzzle's elegance. Beta Daisy represent respect, and Alpha Daisy represent calmness.
'Does this mean respect calmness? Is that some kind of code?'
Leylin threw the thought at the back of his head and strode to the Alpha Daisy, its petals swaying gently in the arcane breeze, and uprooted it with a single, decisive pull, the earth yielding with a soft crunch, the air shimmering as if the garden itself held its breath.
The change was immediate, the space around him rippling, the false sky flickering, the ground trembling underfoot. The herbs began to shrink, their spirals tightening, their vibrant colors fading as they gathered around Leylin, a whirlpool of magic and life.
"What the hell is this?" His voice was a sharp, shocked gasp, his tone raw with awe as he stepped back, his heart pounding with the chaos unfolding, his rune-seared skin blazing red with power.
Leylin's eyes wide as the garden transformed, the air thick with the scent of earth and magic, his mind reeling with the inheritor's cunning.
A snake emerged from the ground, its body sleek and black, etched with intricate silver designs that shimmered like liquid moonlight, its white eyes hollow and unblinking, its presence a quiet enigma that sent a shiver down Leylin's spine.

It opened its mouth, a void of darkness, and the herbs, the earth, the maintenance spells—all were drawn into its stomach, the garden emptying in seconds, leaving a barren expanse of runed stone, the air heavy with the weight of what had just happened.
"A Void White-Eyed Snake!?" Leylin's voice was low, as his mind ran through ancient texts, an incredulous whisper his tone thick with awe and fear as he stared at the snake, his heart thudding with the thrill of discovery, his rune-seared skin tingling with the rush of power.
The snake shrank in size and turned much smaller, no longer than his arm, its black scales gleaming, its silver designs pulsing with void runes, its white eyes devoid of intelligence, yet it radiated a subtle wave of spatial energy that warped the air around it.
Leylin's voice was a soft, fervent mutter, his tone laced with a quiet reverence as he studied the creature, his heart pounding with the weight of its existence, his eyes glowing with a predatory light. "An ancient being, the darling of the void," he said, his words quick and hungry, his mind locked on the snake's potential. "Once Mature, it rumored to be able to travel through time, store realms in its body. Those runes, perfect for storage items, capable of holding thousands of times its size. Extinct since the Ancient Era, hunted to death by Magi, and yet here you are." His tone was grim, his ambition a fire that burned hotter with the puzzle's depth, his heart steady with the clarity of his discovery, his greed for the inheritance a constant pulse in his soul.
He knelt before the snake, his voice a low, calculating whisper, his tone thick with realization as he pieced together the inheritor's design.
"This isn't chance," he said, his words slow and deliberate, his eyes narrowing as he studied the snake's hollow gaze, its lack of aggression a stark contrast to the Black Horrall Snake's fury. "The creator did this, regressed a mature Void White-Eyed Snake, just like the Black Horrall, but kept its void ability intact. A puppet, bound by bloodline order." His tone was fervent, his heart thudding with a mix of awe and ambition, his mind grappling with the power required, his greed a fire that burned hotter with the revelation.
"A Morning Star Magus, at least Rank 4, to control an ancient being like this? The inheritor was a legend, and I'm standing in their shadow." His voice trembled slightly, his eyes shining with a brilliant heat, his breathing quickening with yearning, his soul ablaze with the promise of such power.
Leylin extended his arms, his voice a soft, coaxing hiss in Parseltongue, laced with a fervent hope as he reached out to the snake, his heart pounding with the thrill of connection. "Shaaa hisss… follow me, little one," he said, his words slow and deliberate, his tone thick with promise, his eyes locked on the snake's white, hollow gaze. "I'll help you regain your past glory, restore what the ages stole from you. Come with me, and we'll carve a path to greatness."
His voice was fervent, his ambition a fire that burned hotter with the snake's potential, his greed for its power a drumbeat in his soul, his mind racing with the possibilities of its void abilities, the blood altar in his consciousness pulsing with anticipation.
The snake didn't reply, its white eyes devoid of intelligence, its movements mechanical, a puppet bound by ancient magic, yet it slithered toward Leylin, its black scales brushing against his arm as it coiled into his sleeve, its silver designs glinting in the dim light.
Leylin's voice was a low, amused hiss in Parseltongue, his tone laced with a quiet satisfaction as he felt the snake's weight, his heart steady with the clarity of his victory. "Not a talkative one, I see," he said, his words quick and playful, his eyes glinting with a predatory light. "Doesn't matter, you listen to my commands, and that's enough for now."
As the snake settled into his sleeve, the air around Leylin shimmered, a wave of spatial energy washing over him, his body suddenly weightless, his heart lurching as reality warped.
"What?" he said, his words quick and breathless, his eyes wide as the world spun.
In a heartbeat, he was somewhere else, the garden's verdant expanse replaced by the interior of a villa, its four walls lined with brand-new furniture, their surfaces polished to a mirror sheen, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and arcane energy.
The villa was a relic of the past, its pale yellow desk adorned with a lamp, its orange-red flame flickering with a steady, unnatural light, casting warm shadows across the room. The walls were etched with faint runes, their lines pulsing faintly, as if alive, the air humming with the presence of another formation, its power a quiet threat that pressed against Leylin's skin.
"The core of the inheritance," Leylin said, his words slow and deliberate, his eyes looking around the room full of empty bookshelves. "This is it, the final test before the inheritance. I have already gained a Rank 3 creature blood, an extinct creature and whole Dylan Garden filled with herbs worth millions of magic crystals, I wonder what's the final item."