Walking up to the archway, they double-checked their equipment, readying themselves for whatever may lay ahead. 

“Everyone ready?” Zayzal asked, staring at Marcus. 

“...As ready as I’ll ever be.” He said as firmly as possible, but Zayzal could tell he was nervous from the slight trembling in his arms and the way he held tightly onto his dagger.

“No need to be so nervous.” Sera put her elbow around Marcus’s neck, nudging in Zayzal’s direction. “This guy here is quite the leader. Just listen to him, and you’ll only end up with a few scars! Hahaha~!”

That didn’t make Marcus feel any better, but Fenrir rubbed his head against his legs, calming him down. 

Seeing that everything was okay, Zayzal nodded and turned around toward the entrance. He approached slowly, wary of what might happen. From what he’s experienced, every dungeon is different, usually relating to the history of the country. 

Hungary has a substantially long history, thus, he had no idea what to expect. 

‘If it’s full of ghosts, I don’t think we’ll have an easy time.’ He thought, but wasn’t going to turn around now. 

As soon as he reached the entrance, he cautiously took a step forward, only for a piece of metal to hit his stomach.

‘Huh?’ He stopped and looked down, only to see an illusory sheathed sword blocking him.

His expression changed, and he jumped back, holding his spear at the ready. Sera quickly sprang into action, jumping in front of Zayzal. She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew he wouldn’t do that for no reason.

Suddenly, they heard a scathing voice, like two blocks of rusted iron rubbing against one another. 

"Seeker of Wisdom or Keeper of Folly – which mantle doth thou embrace wholly? Wisdom brings light to darkness unseen, Folly leads through shadows, where light hath never been." 

Looking over, they noticed that the sound came from a ghostly knight covered in heavy armor. It stood there at rest like it was just a puppet. 

“Tch! Damn ghost! Just let us through!” Sera yelled and lunged forward, swinging her axe at the ghost. However, her blade just passed right through it, cutting it in half, before it immediately reformed itself. 

“So, you choose Folly?” It asked in that same indifferent, scathing voice.

Sera raised her axe to swing again before a familiar hand grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. “Enough, Sera. I don’t think it’s going to hurt us.” 

The woman snorted and put her axe down, walking a few feet away from the ghostly knight, but she still glared at it with her senses on high alert. 

“Seems like it wants us to make a choice. I’m not sure how it’ll affect the dungeon, but it’s safe to assume that some sort of change will take place based on our decision.” Zayzal murmured before he looked at his two companions. “What do you guys think?”

“I think it doesn’t matter.” Sera snorted. Regardless of which ‘route’ they took, their goal remained the same: to clear the dungeon.

“...Seeker of Wisdom? I don’t know.” Marcus said hesitantly. “If we take the words literally, wisdom is essentially the culmination of experience and knowledge to make a good judgment. So, it would make sense for that choice to lead us in a more logical or analytical direction. On the other side of the coin, Folly would be more illogical.”

“Then, what about the rest of the riddle? About Seekers and Keepers?” Zayzal asked curiously. This was the first time Marcus had ever talked so much, and he wanted to pick his brain a bit.

“I’m not sure.” Marcus said thoughtfully, “Perhaps it’s something like Seeker of Wisdom is pursuing knowledge to obtain enlightenment. Whereas Keeper of Folly is ignorantly walking around in the dark.”

“Sounds like the first option is the way to go,” Sera interrupted, uninterested in the riddle. “There is a fine line between being wise and foolish. The only thing that truly matters is taking action!”

Zayzal stared at Sera with his mouth wide open, not expecting such words to come out of her mouth. “You’re smarter than I thought.”

“Hmph! Whatever! Just pick one!” Sera growled as she was starting to get annoyed. 

“Fine, fine.” Zayzal chuckled and walked up to the ghostly knight. “We choose the Keeper of Folly!” He declared, much to the shock of his companions.

“Very well, Seeker of Folly. May fortune grace thy path as thou embark upon thine quest.” The knight said cryptically, stunning Zayzal as he wasn’t sure the ghost had made a mistake in calling him that.

‘Weird, but I’ll keep that in mind.’ He thought, thinking about how peculiar that ghost was. Perhaps it knew something he didn’t, or this was part of the riddle.

Pushing that aside for now, Zayzal stepped cautiously past the specter, which faded into mist, its voice echoing faintly behind them. The others followed, each wary of what lay ahead in the path of Folly.

The forest immediately seemed to shift around them, the trees now casting longer, more ominous shadows. The air was thick with an almost tangible sense of anticipation.

“Why’d you choose that, Zayzal? I thought we agreed to go the Seeker of Wisdom route.” Sera asked, with Marcus nodding in the background. 

Zayzal chuckled wryly and thought about the answer for a moment before he spoke. “...I just thought that if Marcus’s assumption was correct and that the Seeker of Wisdom section really was a pursuit of knowledge in search of enlightenment, we’d be stuck there forever. I’d rather wander around the dark for a while and coincidentally find the answer than search for something that isn’t even there.”

Both Marcus and Sera thought about that answer, as it seemed a lot more profound than they initially believed. With his words stuck in their mind, they made their way into the dungeon.

As they ventured deeper, the path in between the heavily forested area twisted unpredictably, the trees whispering in low, mocking tones. Fenrir stayed close to Marcus, his ears twitching at the strange sounds.

“Do you guys hear that?” Marcus asked, a hint of unease in his voice. The whispers seemed to be forming coherent sentences, yet their meaning was elusive and contradictory.

"Listen to the leaves, but heed not their words," a voice hissed from the shadows, then disappeared like it was never there. Sera and Fenrir glanced around, looking for any movement, but neither of them sensed anything. It really was like the trees were talking.

“Why is it telling us to listen but not use their ‘advice’?” Sera’s brows furrowed as the grip on her axe tightened. “Maybe if I chop them all down, we wouldn’t have to listen to their bullshit.”

A chilling wind passed through, shaking the branches as if the trees themselves were shivering from the threat. 

"Or perhaps it's a test," Marcus interjected, his voice steadier now despite the eerie surroundings. "To see if we can discern truth from lies."

Zayzal nodded thoughtfully. "We should be cautious with what we trust here. The path of Folly might be full of deceptions."

The whispers grew louder, more insistent, as if provoked by their discussion. One voice, clear and distinct, spoke from the leaves above: “Turn back now, for danger lies ahead.”

Another countered, “Only through darkness will you find the light.”

The group exchanged wary glances. These contradicting messages were designed to confuse and instill doubt.

“Let’s keep moving, but stay alert,” Zayzal decided, leading the way. The path ahead was shrouded in shadows, making it difficult to see. However, he could feel the weight of uncertainty around the group and forced himself to push on. Whether he did the right thing or not didn’t matter, he had to remain confident that they could get past any challenge no matter what.

As they progressed, the whispers continued, sometimes offering what seemed like helpful advice, other times clear threats or nonsensical babble. Fenrir growled softly, his unease evident as all these random voices were starting to stress him out.

Then, without warning, the ground beneath Sera's feet gave way. She yelped, swinging her axe for balance as she teetered on the edge of a hidden pit.

"Careful!" Zayzal reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to solid ground. "Traps... We need to be more careful."

"Damn trees didn't mention anything about this," Sera grumbled, shaking off the shock.

The whispers then took on a taunting tone. “Too slow, too slow! The wise would have seen.”

“Freaking ghosts! Come out here and say that to my face!” Sera shouted, waving her axe and shield, but all she got back was a fading snicker as if to mock her.

“C’mon, Sera, we don’t even know where these voices are coming from. Let’s just get through this.” Zayzal put a hand on her shoulder and consoled her. She grumbled but took his advice and calmed down. Yet, she could still hear them making fun of her in the distance, causing a vein to pop in her forehead.

Ignoring the jibes, they proceeded, now checking the ground before each step. 

They encountered a fork in the path. One way was lit by a faint, warm light, while the other was engulfed in near-complete darkness.

“The light will guide you,” one whisper suggested.

“Trust not the light; it leads to despair,” another contradicted.

Marcus hesitated, looking between the two paths. "It could be another trick. The light seems inviting, but that might be exactly why it's dangerous."

"Or the darkness could be a ruse to scare us away from the easier path," Sera added, her gaze flickering between the two.

Zayzal weighed their options. "We chose the path of Folly. It's unlikely to be straightforward. Perhaps the challenge is in facing what seems more daunting."

“Or, if this is truly a path that preys on the ignorant, a dense brute would likely take the bright and sunny path, thinking it safer.” Marcus sneered, giving Sera a side-eye. 

“...” Sera’s expression turned dark, but she kept her mouth shut.

By majority vote, they opted for the dark path. Stepping into the seemingly tangible blackness, the light behind them faded as they delved deeper into the shadows. 

With their mouths shut, they held each other’s hands and merely walked forward. Since they couldn’t see, and Zayzal’s [Adaptability] wasn’t reacting to the darkness, that was all they could do. 

After what felt like hours, they came across a clearing that looked as if a hole was cut in the sky, allowing a ring of sunlight to enter—in the center stood a statue holding a lantern that emitted no light. Everything around the clearing was still covered in darkness.

“Light the lantern and reveal your path,” a whisper enticed.

Sera reached out to touch the lantern, but Zayzal stopped her. “Wait. It might be a trap.”

Then, he walked forward and examined the statue, noting ancient symbols etched into its base. He couldn’t read them all, but he did recognize a few. They were: [ᛘᛖᚷᛠᛁᛚᚢᚷᛟᛊᛟᛞᚢᛊ] and [ᚲᛁᚺᛁᛠᚢᛊ]. 

“These symbols... They’re ancient Hungarian. If I’m remembering what my Mother showed me, they should mean ‘Enlightenment’ and ‘Challenge’ respectively. Perhaps it’s trying to say that the only way to obtain enlightenment is through a challenge. So, lighting the lantern could be metaphorical.”

Marcus nodded. “Then, let's not rush.”

They decided to leave the lantern unlit, and as they moved past it, a soft glow began to illuminate the path ahead.

The newly illuminated path led them through an intricate maze of corridors, each adorned with faded murals and cryptic symbols that seemed to come to life under the dim light. It was almost as if they were transported to a world long past. 

As they walked, the whispers grew faint, as if the choice they had made at the lantern had quieted the taunting voices.

“This place is like a puzzle, layered with history and mystery,” Marcus mused, tracing his fingers over the symbols on the walls. “Each step we take feels like we’re unraveling a part of it.”

Sera, who had been unusually quiet since the lantern room, suddenly stopped. “Do you see that?” She pointed towards a section of the wall where the stone appeared different from the rest.

Approaching cautiously, Zayzal examined the wall. It wasn’t just a different color; it was a hidden door, cleverly disguised to blend with its surroundings. With a push, the door creaked open, revealing a small chamber filled with an array of artifacts: ancient weapons, scrolls, and peculiar devices.

As they entered, the door shut behind them with an ominous thud, plunging them into darkness. A faint glow began to emanate from the artifacts, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

“Looks like we’ve triggered something,” Zayzal said, his voice steady despite the rising tension.

The glow intensified, revealing inscriptions on each artifact. “It’s like a museum of Hungary’s past,” Marcus whispered, awe in his voice. He might not know much about anything other than climbing mountains, but he at least knew that a few of these objects were part of Hungarian history.

Sera casually walked around, taking in the sights. If these were new, shiny treasures, she might’ve been interested, but all of them were old and worn out. Without giving it much thought, she reached out and picked up a rusted sword from the collection. As soon as she touched it, the room began to tremble, dust falling from the ceiling.

“Put it back, Sera!” Zayzal commanded, just as the artifacts started to glow brighter, a voice coming from all sides of the room shouted:

“Held by kings, lost in time, I am the witness to folly and crime. What am I?”

They pondered the riddle, their minds racing. Marcus was the first to speak. “It’s a crown! Kings wear crowns, and they witness the history of their reigns, both good and bad.”

Quickly, Zayzal located a crown among the artifacts, its jewels dull with age. He lifted it gently, and as he did, the room stopped shaking, and the door creaked open once more.

Walking through it, they found themselves in a completely different passageway. A faint glow still illuminated the path, but it seemed much brighter this time. Eager to leave this section, they sped up their pace.

The corridors soon led them to a grand hall, its ceiling lost in darkness. In the center of the hall stood a colossal statue of a knight, sword raised, as if frozen in time. All around it was a massive library, with bookshelves a dozen feet tall.

Right before the knight stood a pedestal, upon which rested an ancient tome. It was caked in dust and looked as if a strong wind would blow it away, yet they felt a weightiness from it, even as they stood a few feet away.

Zayzal approached the pedestal, his companions by his side. He opened the tome, and as he did, a voice echoed throughout the chamber, the same scathing voice they had heard at the beginning of their journey.

“You have walked the path of Folly, yet found wisdom in its shadows. The history of a land is the history of its people, both their light and their darkness. As a reward for coming this far, choose one book, but do so wisely, for it will guide you in times to come.”