Chapter 226: The True Illusion

For the first time, doubt filled Merlin's heart. Everything around him seemed familiar, yet oddly out of place. A chilling unease crept over him, as if he had plunged into a cold abyss.

"When exactly did I fall into this illusion? Was it from the moment I entered the **Dark Maze**, or on the fourth day when the illusions clearly grew stronger?"

Merlin muttered under his breath, remaining motionless as his eyes scanned his surroundings. His senses, his memories—anything could be deceived. But **Matrix** was infallible. Its records confirmed that this was only his seventh day in the **Dark Maze**, meaning he had not yet passed the seventh day and certainly hadn't mastered the **Dark Heart**. Everything he thought he had achieved was an illusion.

The pressing question now was pinpointing when the illusion began.

The first day he entered the **Dark Maze** and the fourth day, when he overcame the stronger illusions, aligned perfectly with **Matrix's** records. Therefore, it was likely that the illusion started on the seventh day. From the very beginning of this final phase, he had been trapped in an illusion so convincing that he believed he had mastered the **third-tier Dark Heart**.

"This illusion reflects my innermost desires… If it's an illusion, there's a way to prove it."

Calming his tumultuous thoughts, Merlin closed his eyes. He recalled a lingering regret from earlier—when he had searched through the skeletal remains in the maze, all the rings had already been taken. Deep down, he wished that somewhere, there was still an untouched ring, one holding valuable treasures.

This faint, subconscious yearning was enough to test the illusion.

When he reopened his eyes, Merlin walked deeper into the cave. At first, the skeletons scattered across the floor appeared identical to those he had already examined. But as he ventured into a dark corner, he discovered a skeleton partially buried in dust. Brushing away the dirt, Merlin uncovered a ring—a black, unassuming band.

Probing it with his mental energy, Merlin detected a wealth of elemental crystals, potions, and even spell scrolls stored inside. It was an impressive cache, proof that the owner had been a wealthy spellcaster before succumbing to the maze's illusions.

The ring felt cool and solid in Merlin's hand, and everything about it seemed genuine. Yet Merlin's expression darkened. The illusion was more insidious than he had imagined.

"So realistic… It's as I suspected. This illusion is born from my deepest desires. Whatever I subconsciously long for manifests here, making the illusion indistinguishable from reality."

Merlin muttered to himself, then flung the black ring to the ground and stood. He began pacing the cavern, his frustration mounting. The illusion wasn't just visual or auditory—it reached into his subconscious, molding itself to his unspoken wants.

"The most dangerous thing about this illusion is that it's tailored to me. It mirrors my innermost thoughts, desires, and expectations. It doesn't feel false because, in some ways, it's exactly what I want."

Despite the oppressive realism, Merlin refused to despair. He knew that if he didn't find a way out, he would remain trapped, ultimately reduced to a skeleton like the countless others littering the maze.

"Fake is fake. Illusions are illusions. What I see, hear, and feel may deceive me, but my power is real. My strength is the source of my belief!"

Merlin stopped pacing and sat down, closing his eyes to center himself. He focused on the spells within his **sea of consciousness**. There were twelve spells, all operating smoothly, drawing in elemental energy and converting it into magical reserves.

In addition to his spells, his **Pandora Spells** were present: **Flame Annihilation**, **Frozen Finger**, and the **Dark Heart**. But when his focus landed on the **Dark Heart**, he froze.

The **Dark Heart** shouldn't be there. He hadn't actually mastered it. Its presence confirmed that this was an illusion. Worse, the illusion was so intricate it replicated even his magical abilities with flawless accuracy.

The realization sent a shiver through Merlin. If he continued like this, he would lose himself in the illusion, unable to escape. His fate would mirror that of the countless skeletons scattered throughout the maze.

"To break the illusion, I need belief. Only unshakable belief can pierce through this."

Merlin understood that the solution lay within himself. **Belief** was a nebulous concept, yet it was undeniably real. The strongest wizards—those who had endured countless hardships—developed an unyielding faith in their abilities. This belief made them immune to most illusions, as their confidence in their reality was unshakable.

For Merlin, belief was the key. But his belief wasn't yet strong enough—not the kind that could withstand losing everything and still inspire him to rise again as a powerful wizard. To cultivate such belief, Merlin needed to strengthen his resolve.

Then, an idea struck him.

"If this illusion gives me everything I want, I'll use it to forge my belief."

It was a wild, audacious plan, but Merlin had no other options. He would leverage the illusion to simulate trials, honing his resolve and fortifying his belief.

Thus, Merlin immersed himself in the illusion once more. Whatever he wished for, the illusion provided, enabling him to face his desires head-on. Through this self-imposed trial, Merlin began shaping the indomitable belief he needed to shatter the illusion.

---

**Outside the Dark Maze**

"The seventh day is almost over, Leo," Hobbes remarked coldly. "Merlin hasn't emerged. It's safe to assume he's lost in the maze. You should prepare to fulfill your promise."

Leo remained silent, his **Blood-Eye** flickering ominously. After a moment, he rose to his feet and turned toward the pitch-black entrance to the maze.

"I'll keep my word," he said, his voice steady. "But Merlin won't die."

With that, Leo strode toward the maze's entrance.

"Stop!" Hobbes shouted, stepping in front of him. "You know the rules. No one—not even a seventh-level spellcaster—can enter the **Dark Maze** to rescue someone. Merlin's fate is sealed."

The **Abyssal Fortress** had long held this strict rule: those who entered the maze had to rely on their own strength to escape. No one was permitted to intervene, regardless of the circumstances.

Leo paused, his head tilting slightly. The **Blood-Eye** on his forehead began to glow, casting eerie crimson light across the cavern.

"You can't stop me," Leo said coldly.

Hobbes's expression darkened as he, along with the other two seventh-level spellcasters, moved to block Leo's path. Elemental energy rippled faintly around them.

"Leo, this is the **Abyssal Fortress**, not the **Dark Domain**!" Hobbes snapped.

Unperturbed, Leo repeated, "You can't stop me."

With a sudden surge of power, the **Blood-Eye** unleashed a torrent of crimson light, forming a web that enveloped the three spellcasters.

"**Blood-Eye Illusion!**"

Hobbes and his companions froze, their faces contorting with shock and dread as the power of Leo's **Blood-Eye** gripped them.