Enjoy!
"Normal speech"
'Thought'
[Magic/Martial Arts]
Chapter 1: a Rude Awakening
Death…
Desolation…
Defeat…
He tried…
He lost…
His home…
His own creator…
All gone…
Eternal darkness…
Consumes him…
A cold embrace…
For a cold slumber…
…
What now…?
…
The sun shone brightly over the green expanse of the Abelion Hills, with only a few clouds drifting lazily across the clear blue sky. The peaceful, picturesque scenery belied the true nature of these lands. The hilly and forested terrain, teeming with native wildlife, gave off a deceptively welcoming atmosphere. But to those who knew of this place, fear was the only response.
The hills lay between the human nations of the Slane Theocracy and the Roble Holy Kingdom, their peaceful appearance masking the dangers within. Various tribes of demi-humans called these hills home, launching relentless raids and plundering both nations. The Slane Theocracy—the strongest human nation in the world—had attempted to cleanse the hills of these creatures before, but their efforts only temporarily thinned the beastman population. The famous adventurers of the Re-Estize Kingdom to the north didn't dare venture into these cursed lands, for every expedition had ended in failure, leaving behind only corpses. No ordinary human would dare traverse the infamous Abelion Hills.
For these reasons, the formation of riders moving cautiously through the hills kept a vigilant eye out for any surprises. Most of them kept their faces covered, hoping to deter an attack, though they knew such cheap tricks were unlikely to fool the monsters that lurked here. They rode by day, ate on the move, and stayed vigilant at night, praying to their gods that they wouldn't stumble upon a demi-human horde too large to handle.
These riders belonged to the Windflower Scripture, one of the Six Scriptures of the Slane Theocracy, specializing in information gathering. Leading them was Captain Ligun Devoras Yostyk, a tall man with a respectable military record. Among his peers, he was rumored to be lazy and paranoid, yet his knack for uncovering interesting finds and completing his tasks without flaw kept such criticisms at bay.
Trailing behind the formation was the 6th Seat of the Black Scripture, a formidable warrior clad in white and ocean-blue armor, wielding an enormous lance-like weapon with deadly precision. Normally, the Slane Theocracy would have sent the Sunlight Scripture or the entire Black Scripture for a mission of this magnitude. However, after recent battles had seen both groups defeated—especially the former, presumed wiped out by a powerful magic caster—the Theocracy decided to play it safe, conserving their forces. Sending only one warrior from the strongest Scripture to accompany the expedition would draw less attention and should still suffice to complete the mission. It was, by their reasoning, a sound strategy.
A loud sigh escaped Captain Ligun's lips, but the group ignored it, each rider too focused on the path ahead to offer more than a weary glance.
"We've been riding for days already, and the absence of enemies is beginning to be worrisome. Please, oh great gods, let me get out of these tainted lands alive…" Captain Ligun Devoras Yostyk thought to himself, glancing up at the sky as if personally pleading for divine intervention.
He couldn't stop thinking about the mission assigned to his team. Three days ago, the Thousand Leagues Astrologer—an esteemed member of the Black Scripture and a magic caster specializing in surveillance and divination—had reported something unique. While conducting reconnaissance in the Abelion Hills, in search of a target for purification, she had discovered something odd.
A dense, small forest with enormous trees stood visible in the distance. To an ordinary observer, it might have seemed unremarkable—just another cluster of trees. But she was no ordinary observer. As an experienced magic caster of an elite force, she recognized that this was no natural forest. A strange pull emanated from it, as if something within was calling to her.
Curious, she decided to investigate. As she approached the forest, she noticed an unusual absence of life in the surrounding area, particularly of demi-humans. The moment she entered the forest, she felt it—a palpable energy saturating the earth, the trees, even the rocks. The mana concentration was unnaturally high.
She ventured deeper, drawn towards the gigantic trees she had glimpsed earlier. But as she pressed on, the mana's intensity surged, distorting her surveillance magic and making it difficult to orient herself. Realizing her spell was about to be overwhelmed, she pushed forward, determined to locate the source of the phenomenon. And then, just before her magic failed, she saw it.
A structure—a ruin—stood atop a hill, its polished stone gleaming beneath the vines that draped it. The entrance, leading downward, hinted at the presence of a dungeon. Despite the brief glimpse, she could tell that this dungeon was ancient, possibly dating back to the time when the Six Great Gods walked the world. The source of the mana was undoubtedly within this dungeon. But before she could glean more, her spell was cut off.
The Six Cardinals, upon hearing her report, realized the potential significance of this discovery. It could be a lost dungeon created by their gods, possibly containing divine artifacts or other relics. They quickly dispatched the Windflower Scripture, accompanied by the 6th Seat of the Black Scripture, to explore the dungeon. Alongside them were a few scribes and scholars, tasked with studying the strange phenomenon and gaining insights into the gods who had protected humanity 600 years ago.
Captain Ligun was profoundly grateful for the presence of the 6th Seat. While a standard Theocracy unit could handle most threats on the continent, recent events had proven that powerful monsters still lurked in the shadows. The elite warrior's presence was a reassurance, but also a source of immense pressure. One misstep, one careless word from the 6th Seat to his superiors, and Ligun's military career would be over. He had to tread carefully.
As he mulled over these thoughts, the blonde warrior from the Black Scripture at the back of the formation rode up to the front. Ligun maintained a neutral expression, but internally, his anxiety spiked.
"Phew… Okay, there's no reason to fear. I just have to do my job well, and I'll keep my head as a reward! No pressure, Ligun…" he thought nervously. He was determined not to get on the warrior's bad side—his comfortable life depended on it.
"Captain Ligun, we're approaching our destination. If we continue, we'll reach our objective by dusk. I suggest we make camp nearby and rest. The men look tired, and I don't want to push our luck." The warrior's tone was even, but Ligun could tell it was more of a command than a suggestion.
"O-of course, sir. You're right. We'll do as you say," Ligun responded, his voice betraying a slight stutter. The blonde man hummed in acknowledgment and returned to the back of the formation, resuming his position at the rear.
Ligun sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "I'm going to die…" he muttered under his breath.
"Hanging in there, Cap~?" A mischievous feminine voice chimed in. Ligun glanced over to his side, where Maya Ivras Coloco, his vice-captain and childhood friend, grinned at him.
"It's all fine, Maya. All just fine…" Ligun replied wearily.
Maya was shorter than Ligun, but not by much, with a well-rounded and respectable figure. Her long black hair fell to the middle of her back, and her skin was healthy and tan. Despite being part of the Windflower Scripture, where espionage was the norm, she had achieved the incredible milestone of 4th-tier magic in their country and could also cast divine magic, making her a reliable companion.
"Aw, don't be like that, Cap.~ Once we're done here, you'll be able to sleep like a baby again in the capital," she teased, leaning closer to whisper the last part.
"Shhh, quiet!" he whispered back, a slight embarrassment coloring his tone. Fortunately, none of the other riders noticed their exchange.
"Yes, yes... You never change, Ligun.~" Maya smiled fondly, recalling the many times she'd caught him napping on duty. Somehow, their superiors had never discovered his habit.
Ligun grimaced slightly but then allowed himself a small smile. "Ahhhh… let's just get this over with."
…
A day had passed, and the group finally arrived at the entrance to their target forest. Thanks to the rigorous training each member had received from the Theocracy, they could all sense the mana radiating from the forest, just as the Thousand Leagues Astrologer had described. The overwhelming energy was beginning to affect the humans—some felt intoxicated by it, while others experienced nausea. The 6th Seat seemed indifferent, but Ligun couldn't shake his unease.
"Everyone!" Ligun raised his voice, partly to gain their attention and partly to release some of his pent-up stress. "We'll dismount here. The Thousand Leagues Astrologer noted no presence of demi-humans in the vicinity, but that doesn't mean we should let our guard down. Stay close to each other and watch your backs."
With that, they all dismounted and began to head into the forest.
The area was dense, but with the sun still setting, they could see well enough to navigate. If needed, they would use night vision spells to find their way. However, the Captain couldn't shake his growing unease. The forest was too quiet—eerily so. Not even an insect buzzed as they walked. Normally, a forest like this would have at least a few wandering monsters, but this one was unsettlingly empty. Ligun glanced at the 6th Seat, noting his usual impassive expression.
"If he thinks nothing is wrong, it's fine. Right?" Ligun thought, trying to reassure himself, but the sense of impending danger refused to leave him.
After an hour of careful walking, they arrived at the base of the hill where the dungeon was located. The structure was unlike anything most of them had ever seen—alien, and almost incomprehensible. It stood as tall as the unusually large trees around it, exuding an ominous aura that made them all feel as though it might attack at any moment. One of the scribes observed that the architecture resembled the designs left behind by the Six Great Gods, yet it was also distinctly different.
"What do you mean?" Maya asked curiously, tilting her head. If it resembled the gods' work, how could it be anything else?
"Look closely," the scribe replied, pointing to the base of the structure. "The walls here are smoother and slightly curved, and the materials are more polished—these are characteristics that match our architecture, which is inspired by the gods. But as you look upward, the structure becomes more angular, with a design that resembles draconic scales. It's a fascinating blend of styles."
"So, was this dungeon really made by the gods?" Ligun asked, processing the information.
"We cannot be certain just yet. We'll need to explore inside to uncover more. However, it's clear that our gods had a hand in this," the scribe replied with conviction.
Ligun found this perplexing. How could a dungeon have two distinct architectural styles? And why a draconic design? Dragons were known to be proud and solitary, ruling with their natural-born strength. The idea of them cooperating to build something with another race seemed counterintuitive.
As they neared the structure, the 6th Seat suddenly turned his head sharply toward the surrounding trees. Ligun noticed and felt his heart skip a beat.
"What is it?"
"Captain, listen carefully... We're surrounded," the 6th Seat stated calmly, as if discussing the weather. In an instant, Ligun's nervousness and habitual laziness vanished, replaced by the sharp focus of a seasoned commander. The other guards stiffened, ready for orders, while the scribes and scholars looked on with growing concern.
"How many? Demi-humans?" Ligun asked without hesitation, his voice steady and commanding—a stark contrast to his usual laid-back demeanor.
"At least a thousand. Goblins and ogres, led by something big," the 6th Seat reported, drawing his massive lance and locking his gaze on the treeline.
"Alright. Windflower Scripture, form a ring around the scribes! Summon [Angel Guardians, and those who can, call forth [Archangel Flames]. We'll use overwhelming force," Ligun commanded. His subordinates moved with practiced precision, executing his orders swiftly.
The Theocracy viewed angels as envoys of their gods, often summoning them to fight for humanity. The armored angels that appeared, with their radiant wings and ethereal forms, brought a renewed sense of hope and vitality to the humans present. They were outnumbered, but there was no way a mere beastman horde could overcome them.
The demi-humans emerged from the trees, revealing themselves just as the 6th Seat had said—a gathering of goblins and ogres led by a towering minotaur, standing over two and a half meters tall. His horns curved menacingly forward, and he bore no armor on his massive torso, only a mighty war axe fit for a creature of his size.
"Heh, so much for 'no demi-humans in the vicinity,' eh, Captain?" Maya quipped cheekily, and Ligun could only nod in agreement. But it didn't matter—they had a job to do.
"Humans! I am Chieftain Draktor of the Seguar Tribe. Leave this forest immediately, or face dire consequences!" the minotaur bellowed, his voice deep and almost guttural. Ligun wasn't impressed by the threat.
"And what kind of danger can your little tribe offer us, minotaur?" Ligun retorted, his tone laced with hostility, shaped by years of prejudice against the demi-humans. If it weren't for the Six Great Gods, the human race might have been wiped out by savages like these long ago. Ligun had seen too many of his countrymen slaughtered by these monsters—he would never forget their faces.
"Fools! It is not us you should fear, but the thing that lies below your feet! We, the Seguar Tribe, have guarded this dungeon for generations against intruders like you. Leave now and live, or stay and perish..." the minotaur warned, his voice tinged with fear. He knew what lay within the dungeon—a catastrophe that could be unleashed upon the world if disturbed. But the human commander stood firm, unmoved by the warning.
"We have our orders. We're not leaving," Ligun declared, his voice resolute. The soldiers of the Theocracy would never back down to beastman scum.
"Fine! If it's war you want, it's war you'll get!" the minotaur roared, raising his war axe and letting out a deafening battle cry. His army surged forward in response.
"Crush the invaders! Leave none alive!"
"Angels, attack! Magic casters, support them! Fighters, hold the formation!" Ligun commanded.
And so, the battle began.
Common military tactics dictate that those with the higher ground have a clear advantage over those below. Yet, the goblins and ogres charged up the hill with animalistic glee, their deformed faces twisted in anticipation, ignoring any semblance of tactical sense. They had been hungry for far too long. Tonight, they would kill, feast, and satiate their ravenous appetites.
Their savage charge was abruptly halted as winged beings of pristine light descended upon them. The angels, radiant and imposing, held the demi-human advance, their flaming swords cutting through ranks with merciless efficiency. The demi-humans' feeble attempts to fight back were in vain; the angels were naturally resistant to physical attacks, and the monsters barely managed to scratch them before being reduced to minced meat.
"[Magic Arrow]!"
"[Acid Arrow]!"
"[Fireball]!"
"[Electrosphere]!"
"[Iceball]!"
Suddenly, the battlefield erupted with the sheer force of magic being unleashed from the hilltop. The spells rained down on the demi-human ranks, decimating them more effectively than even the angels could manage. Ligun allowed himself a smile as the screams of their detestable enemies filled the air. If things continued like this, they would slaughter the beastman scum to the last, as it should be.
On the other side of the battlefield, Draktor, the minotaur chieftain, was seething with rage. The battle was slipping through his fingers.
'Damn those cowardly human magic casters!'
The Seguar Tribe had been established 600 years ago by their gods, according to the sages. They were tasked with guarding this dungeon, protecting the world from the danger sealed within. For generations, they fulfilled this sacred duty. Yet, as time passed, many fighters abandoned the tribe, joining others who saw no point in standing vigil over an old dungeon for all eternity.
But Draktor was different. He couldn't bear the thought of dishonoring his ancestors, who were entrusted with this mission by the gods themselves. No, he would make them proud. He would save the world from these foolish humans!
"Argh! Weaklings! I'll deal with this myself!" the minotaur chieftain roared, charging to the front lines, determined to fulfill his sacred duty. The angels tried to intercept him, but as they approached, Draktor activated his Martial Arts skills: [Grand Power Strike] and [Greater Ability Boost]. His strength multiplied several times over, and with a powerful swing of his war axe, he unleashed a gust of wind across the battlefield, disintegrating the angels caught in its path.
Ligun remained calm despite the impressive display of power. He turned to his trump card, standing beside him.
"6th Seat, take him down," Ligun ordered, his voice steady.
"With pleasure," the blonde warrior replied, immediately sprinting toward Draktor at full speed. He became nothing more than a blur to the goblins in his path, who were slaughtered before they even realized what was happening. An ogre attempted to swing its club at the speeding human, but the warrior swiftly severed the ogre's arm and pierced its throat in one fluid motion. The ogre collapsed, gargling on its own blood as the 6th Seat retrieved his weapon and continued his bloody advance toward the minotaur chieftain, leaving a trail of horror-stricken demi-humans in his wake.
Draktor, having just dispatched the last angel, sensed an incoming attack from his blind spot. Years of combat experience kicked in as he instinctively brought his war axe up to block. He narrowly deflected a decapitating blow from a human clad in ornate blue armor wielding a ridiculously large lance.
"Grrrr… You think you can defeat me with cheap tricks, human?" Draktor growled, his pride wounded at the thought of dying such a dishonorable death. The human remained silent, his stance firm, clearly not intending to make the same mistake twice. Amused by the warrior's brazen challenge, Draktor grinned.
"Ha! I, Draktor, descendant of the chieftains of legend, will not be bested by a mere human!" he roared, charging at the human, ready to turn him into a bloody pulp. He slashed diagonally with his war axe, confident that this would end the fight. But just as his attack was about to connect, the human sidestepped, deftly avoiding the blow while making a small cut on Draktor's hand.
The minotaur huffed in annoyance and prepared his next move.
"Grr! [Body Strengthening]! [Greater Ability Boost]!" Draktor ignored the strain of using multiple Martial Arts in succession and struck again. But once more, the human dodged easily, this time slicing into Draktor's right knee. The pattern repeated several times—Draktor swung his war axe ferociously, and the 6th Seat evaded each strike with ease, inflicting small wounds across the minotaur's body. It was infuriatingly clear that the human was toying with him.
"Argh! Hold still, you overcompensating milk-drinker!" Draktor bellowed, slamming his war axe into the ground with all his might, creating a tremor that briefly caught the 6th Seat off guard. Seizing the opportunity, Draktor activated another skill.
"[Gale Acceleration]!" he roared, shooting toward the human at blinding speed, ready to cut him in half. Draktor smirked, already savoring his victory.
"Too slow," the human muttered, correcting his footing and leaping to the side, effortlessly dodging Draktor's horizontal strike. He raised his lance above his head and activated his own Martial Arts skill.
"[Slashing Strike]."
Draktor, still moving with unnatural speed, attempted to step back to avoid the blow. But he wasn't fast enough—the lance cut cleanly from his left shoulder to his right hip. He roared in pain, realizing that if he hadn't stepped back, the blow would have cut him in half. Clutching his wounds, he assessed the damage, his vision beginning to blur.
The 6th Seat saw an opening and moved in for the kill, aiming his lance for Draktor's neck. But just as he struck, Draktor's war axe lashed out from the side, surprising the human with the suddenness of the attack.
Clicking his tongue at his own carelessness, the 6th Seat brought his lance up to block. The force of the impact sent him flying 10 meters away, but he landed gracefully, his body unscathed. He straightened, ready to reengage, and locked eyes with his opponent.
Draktor, however, was at his limit. The strain of using so many Martial Arts skills in quick succession, combined with his numerous injuries, left him breathing heavily and struggling to stay on his feet. He knew he had already lost—his body told him as much. But he ignored the pain, summoning every ounce of his warrior's determination. Gripping his war axe with both hands, he let out a final, defiant roar.
"WITNESS ME! I AM WARRIOR DRAKTOR!"
The human charged, accepting the minotaur's challenge. Draktor stood his ground, ready to meet his death with honor.
"COME, HUMAN!" he bellowed.
As the blonde warrior closed in, Draktor swung his war axe one last time. But his arm was heavy, and the strike was slow and weak. The human easily parried the blow and thrust his lance forward, piercing Draktor's chest.
Blood splattered onto the grass as the lance drove deep into the minotaur's flesh. Silence fell over the battlefield. No screams of death, no victory chants—just the quiet aftermath of the fatal strike.
Draktor looked down at the lance embedded in his chest, his breath ragged. A faint smile crossed his lips, as if satisfied with this end. The human warrior's expression remained unreadable as he watched the life drain from his opponent's eyes.
In his final moments, the minotaur chieftain, his voice now serious, gripped the lance and spoke to his killer.
"Ugh. Know this, human… Hack. You… have doomed… us all," Draktor rasped, his words laced with a condemning tone. Then, he collapsed, finally perishing.
The Seguar Tribe was no more.
The 6th Seat stood over Draktor's lifeless body, contemplating the fallen warrior. Though he would never admit it, this… warrior deserved a better fate. If only he hadn't been a demi-human… but fate had made them natural foes, and this outcome had been inevitable.
After a moment, the 6th Seat turned his gaze to the battlefield. The angels and magic casters were mopping up the last remnants of resistance. He cast one final glance at the fallen chieftain before rejoining his allies atop the hill.
They had won the battle.
'Phew. A decisive victory. At least no one died…' Ligun thought to himself, grateful for another job well done. He turned to his group, speaking proudly.
"Well done, soldiers! Let's finish what we came here to do and return home safe and sound." For once, no one contested their captain's orders.
…
They entered the structure and began their descent down the stairs. Inside, the darkness was almost impenetrable, so they opted to use light magic instead of night vision spells, as the dense mana in the air continued to disrupt their casting. While the light made them more visible to any potential threats, it was a necessary trade-off. In response, they heightened their vigilance, scanning their surroundings for any sign of an ambush.
The corridors exuded an eerie presence, as if the humans were being watched with every step. The walls were etched with what appeared to be ancient runes, faintly glowing with a blue light, and some sections were inscribed in the draconic language. Unfortunately, no one among them could decipher it—dragons had never shared their ancient tongue with other races.
The mana concentration within the dungeon was overwhelming, disorienting the magic casters. They were forced to recast their light spells repeatedly as the strange mana in the air continuously overpowered them. Fortunately, the battle above hadn't drained their reserves, so the magic casters remained combat-ready.
They continued downward without encountering any obstacles, yet they remained on high alert. Strangely, the dungeon offered no new discoveries—no rooms to explore, no traps to avoid, just endless walls covered in foreign symbols and a dark, narrow corridor. It was unsettlingly simple for a dungeon, which typically would have been teeming with dangers and hidden passageways.
Vice-Captain Maya led the way, her light illuminating the path ahead, when she turned a corner and came face-to-face with the most decrepit door she had ever seen. It could barely be called a door anymore. A soft yellow glow seeped from beneath and above the door, reminiscent of the sun's rays at dawn.
She knew immediately that this was what they had been searching for.
"Captain! I found something.~" Her voice echoed loudly through the labyrinthine dungeon, a sound that would have been a death sentence in any other exploration. But they had already determined that the place was empty.
"Found what?" Ligun asked, his voice lazy, as he rounded the corner to join her. He stopped abruptly when he saw the door, the rest of the group halting behind him. The yellow light spilling from the door filled them all with a mix of dread and wonder. What could possibly lie behind it?
"What happened to the door?" Ligun asked, rubbing his chin as if pondering the answer himself.
"I don't know. I found it like this. Do you think we should open it?" Maya asked, her tone uncertain but intrigued.
"Hmm, we've come this far, so we might as well see what's on the other side, right?" Ligun responded, though he sounded unsure of his own decision.
"I concur," the 6th Seat commented coldly from behind, making Ligun nearly jump out of his skin. He had forgotten the warrior was still there!
"H-hahaha! I'm glad you agree!" Ligun said nervously, rubbing the back of his head. That was too close! The 6th Seat ignored his strange quirks and nodded toward the door.
'Don't lose your head at the finish line, Ligun,' the Captain silently chided himself as he approached the door to open it.
Tssssss
The moment Ligun touched the door, it crumbled into dust. The Theocracy soldiers shielded their eyes as an intense golden light flooded their vision. When their eyes adjusted, they found themselves staring at a mesmerizing sight.
The room was dome-shaped and immense, with deep chasms encircling it, except for the spot where the door had once stood, forming a natural bridge. In the center of the room, surrounded by enormous chains, was a massive amber crystal, glowing with a light that seemed almost alive.
'What in the Six's name is this?!' Ligun thought, unable to believe his eyes.
The magic casters, without a doubt, recognized this as the source of the mana anomaly. They were stunned by its almost divine appearance.
"W-what…!"
"I-I've never seen anything like this…"
"Oh, Great Gods! We thank you for this…"
"What in the blue fu…!?"
"Captain, what should we do?" Maya's voice cut through the chaos, snapping Ligun out of his trance. He realized that he had no idea what to do. Their mission was to investigate the dungeon and retrieve anything of value. But the only things of value here were the indecipherable runes on the walls and this giant crystal—something far too large and dangerous to transport. Quickly deciding on a course of action, he addressed the group.
"We'll search for anything useful to bring back to the Theocracy and report all of our findings later. Spread out." The group acknowledged his orders and began to examine the surroundings, though most of them were drawn to the crystal. The 6th Seat remained by the entrance, ensuring no surprises would come from behind.
The humans near the crystal could only marvel at its magnificence. Its surface was too smooth to be natural, showcasing the incredible craftsmanship of whoever had created it. The crystal was almost transparent, yet the core remained obscured, as if hiding something within.
"These chains… I can feel the immense mana flowing through them. They must have some unknown property that is siphoning energy from the crystal and dispersing it elsewhere," one scribe observed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"That would explain the extraordinary mana concentration in the environment above. There's something different about this mana—it's more vibrant, more potent and I would even describe it as more primal than natural mana. And… I can feel emotions in it," another scholar added, perplexed.
"Emotions? What do you mean?" another caster asked, skepticism in his voice. But as he focused, he too could sense it. "Wait… It's faint, but I feel it too. It's intense… like rage, but there's sorrow in it as well. How is this even possible?"
"This is all very interesting, but does anyone know what this thing actually is? Why is it here?" Ligun asked, impatience creeping into his voice. But no one could answer. They were as lost as he was.
One of the magic casters, entranced by the crystal, reached out to touch it, but his arm was yanked back before he could make contact.
"What do you think you're doing!? It could be dangerous!" a colleague scolded, gripping his arm tightly.
"S-sorry! I was just curious," the caster stammered, embarrassed by his lapse in judgment.
"Hmph. Keep your curiosity in check, or you might lose an arm," Maya interjected, her tone grave, clearly displeased by his carelessness.
"Y-yes, ma'am." The caster slumped back, content to observe from a safer distance.
"He's got a point, you know? We need to figure out what this… thing is," Ligun muttered to Maya.
"I know.~ But our options are limited. It seems none of us can use magic here, and direct physical contact could be dangerous. We need another way," she replied, her voice contemplative. Ligun crossed his arms, deep in thought. What could they do under these circumstances?
"Hmmm, what to do… Aha! 6th Seat! Think you could take a piece out of this thing?" Ligun called to the warrior guarding the exit. The blonde man huffed and approached the crystal, gripping his lance.
"Break the crystal? Are you sure this is wise, Ligun?~" Maya asked, uncertainty evident in her voice. They still had no idea what they were dealing with. What if they accidentally released something they shouldn't?
"It's fine, Maya. We'll just take a small piece to show the Cardinals. They might understand more than we do." He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though she didn't look convinced. She stayed silent, watching as the 6th Seat prepared to strike.
"Step aside," the warrior said, and the others quickly moved out of his way. He knew he couldn't cut through the entire crystal in one swing—it appeared too thick. However, as a man who had reached the Realm of Heroes through intense training and battle, and with equipment of the highest quality from the Theocracy, taking a small piece should be a simple task.
Using all his strength, the 6th Seat swung his lance at a specific transparent part of the crystal, aiming to chip off a fragment. Under normal circumstances, he could slice through even adamantite, the strongest known metal. But to his shock, the lance bounced off the crystal with a loud hum, leaving it completely unscathed.
The blonde warrior's eyes widened in disbelief. He had put everything into that strike, yet the crystal hadn't even budged! What in the world was this thing made of?
The hum from the impact echoed through the chamber, grating on the group's nerves and wounding the warrior's pride. Slowly, the sound began to fade.
"Well, that didn't work… Let's try—"
CRACK
The noise of glass shattering cut Ligun off mid-thought. The suddenness of it made several members of the group jump. All eyes turned to the glowing crystal, now marred by a tiny crack. This minuscule fissure had formed due to the frequency of the sound waves generated by the 6th Seat's attack. From this small breach, a ghostly stream of visible yellow mana began to seep out.
'Wha…'
Before Ligun could even process what was happening, an earth-shattering tremor rocked the entire dungeon. The violent quake staggered everyone; even the mighty 6th Seat of the Black Scripture struggled to remain standing and was forced to kneel.
The crystal's light intensified, casting harsh shadows on the walls, and more cracks splintered across its surface. Chunks of rubble began to fall from the ceiling, threatening to bury them alive.
"EVERYONE! TO THE EXIT!" Ligun bellowed over the deafening rumble, his voice barely audible above the chaos. He sprinted for the door, with Maya right on his heels. The warrior in blue armor sped ahead of them, his superior speed on full display.
Panic erupted among the scholars and scribes. Some lost their footing and plummeted into the chasms below, never to be seen again. Others were crushed under the falling debris, their lives snuffed out in an instant.
The once-beautiful crystal was now shattered, vibrating violently as it broke free from the chains that had restrained it. With each link that snapped, the crystal grew increasingly unstable.
CRRRRIINK
Suddenly, an armored arm burst through the crystal's surface, sending shards flying in all directions. The arm moved diagonally, widening the crack and allowing the figure trapped within to push through. Another arm emerged, gripping the edges of the fissure and ripping the crystal apart.
"UUUAAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHHH!"
A loud, guttural scream echoed through the dungeon. The sound was so intense it felt like it could shatter their eardrums. Even those fleeing through the corridors could hear it, the scream reverberating for kilometers around the dungeon. It was as if they had awakened a mad god.
The figure within was a towering humanoid, at least two meters tall with a build far bulkier than any human. Its golden armor, adorned with silver linings, covered most of its body, with a second layer of leaner, black armor underneath. The breastplate bore the carving of an ornate tree with sprawling roots, while the angular pauldrons and accentuated tassets (armor skirt) added to its imposing presence. Its helmet, following the design of the armor, featured spiky golden wings arching backward, and its eye sockets were pitch black, as if the armor itself was empty.
The being clutched its head and continued to scream, as if in excruciating pain. The agonized wails echoed through the halls, sending shivers down the spines of the fleeing humans.
What had they unleashed!?
The armored giant began to convulse, its body floating above the ground as it thrashed about. The yellow mana bubbled uncontrollably on its armor, lashing out at the surroundings. Then, in a sudden burst of speed, the being shot upward, crashing through the ceiling and heading straight for the surface.
Back above ground, the 6th Seat leaned heavily against one of the massive trees that dotted the mystical forest. His breath came in ragged gasps; he had run as if one of the Evil Deities themselves were chasing him—a blow to his already wounded pride. As he glanced back, he saw that a few others had survived, including the Captain and Vice-Captain.
BOOOOM
Suddenly, a golden flash erupted from the ground, and something—or someone—burst into the sky. The 6th Seat strained to follow it with his eyes. When it stopped mid-air, he finally saw what it was: a glowing, heavily armored figure, howling incessantly. The blonde warrior's shock deepened. That crystal had been holding this thing down? What in the world was it?
The armored being then spread its arms wide, its body glowing even brighter.
"...!"
The 6th Seat instinctively recognized the danger. He shouted a desperate warning to the others.
"GET DOWN!"
Everyone obeyed, dropping to the ground just as the being unleashed a devastating explosion of power. Yellow mana surged skyward, forming a pillar of light that pierced the night sky. The shockwaves from the blast resounded across the surrounding hills, filling the air with a haunting sound that shattered the night's tranquility. The force of the winds threatened to sweep them away, and they clung to anything they could find to stay grounded.
The demi-human tribes in the Abelion Hills who witnessed the bright yellow spear of light trembled in fear and madness as the shockwaves crashed into them. In the Great Forest of Tob, the shift in the air agitated the creatures, making them more aggressive and forcing them to band together for safety. Across the continent, the greatest and most powerful magic casters sensed the eruption of endless mana, a surge that filled them with uncertainty and curiosity. Even the Dragon Lords, the ancient rulers of this world, roared in defiance, save for one who pondered in silent worry.
...
In the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Momonga—now known as Ainz Ooal Gown, one of the Supreme Beings of this inhuman underground fortress—sat on his [Throne of Kings] with a world-class beauty by his side. The skeletal figure was deep in conversation with his demoness servant, discussing future plans after finally ridding Shalltear Bloodfallen, one of Nazarick's Floor Guardians, of the mind-control spell that had ensnared her. The Guardian Overseer, Albedo, had just proposed testing their offensive capabilities soon.
"Umu… I agree, Albedo. We should—"
WHOOSH
'Huh?'
"..."
Both of them froze, their postures tensing. Even from within the Throne Room, they had felt it—a jolt of immense power, something massive and unforeseen.
Ainz rested his skeletal arms on the throne and addressed his servant, though it was more a rhetorical question.
"Did you feel that, Albedo?"
"Yes, Ainz-sama.~" Albedo's voice, usually sweet like honey, now carried a note of severity. Whatever they had sensed was unexpected… and dangerous. It was a stark contrast to the weak and pitiful beings they had encountered in this world thus far. Ainz placed a bony hand on his chin, deep in thought, before issuing an order.
"Albedo, summon Demiurge and have him investigate as he sees fit. I assume he felt it as well. Whatever this is, it could pose a serious threat if left unchecked… or it could be something of interest. Also, increase the security level of the tomb by one and conduct a thorough inspection of every floor. We'll revisit our plans tomorrow."
"Understood, Ainz-sama!~" Albedo bowed deeply and teleported away to carry out her master's orders. Ainz, however, continued to ponder the mysterious surge of power.
'What was that? It felt… like I was drowning in an ocean… Can I even drown anymore? Aaaah.~ First Shalltear and now this? Will I ever get a break…' Ainz tiredly rubbed his temples, shaking his skull in frustration.
As an undead, he had no need for physical rest, but his mental exhaustion, a remnant of his human past, was undeniable. Just as his frustration began to peak, his passive skill [Emotion Inhibitor] activated, a green light washing over him, bringing relief. This skill was a double-edged sword—it was useful when needed, but could be inconvenient at times. Ignoring the thoughts weighing on his mind, Ainz refocused on the issue at hand.
'For now, we must proceed with caution. This could be another Player, maybe the ones who brainwashed Shalltear, a [World Item]… or something else entirely. Who knows what secrets this world is hiding.~' Ainz stood from his throne, casting a glance at the banners of his former comrades that adorned the room. Memories of their shared struggles and triumphs flooded his mind—so many good times...
But now, he was alone in a strange world, surrounded by the children of his friends who worshipped him with fervent devotion. Before he could sink into melancholy and trigger his passive skill once more, he reminded himself of his mission: to spread the glory of Ainz Ooal Gown and to find any of his friends who might have been brought to this world as well. The depressive thoughts faded, replaced by renewed determination.
'It doesn't matter. No matter what comes, or what we face, I will protect them!~' The Overlord of death clenched his bony fists, the red dots in his eye sockets glowing brighter with resolve.
Nothing would stand in his way. Ainz Ooal Gown does not know defeat!
...
The pillar of light subsided, and the silent night sky reclaimed its dominion. The armored humanoid collapsed onto the grass, appearing unconscious. Finally, the chaos was over.
Ligun slowly rose to his feet, followed by the others nearby. They all stared at the being responsible for this madness, their faces pale with fear. Even the usually stoic 6th Seat couldn't hide his shock. No one dared to speak; some were trembling uncontrollably, their minds unable to process what had just happened.
This was far beyond anything they had expected. It was surreal, unbelievable! The power they had witnessed was beyond comprehension...
But more importantly, if this thing woke up again, it could obliterate them in an instant. They needed to get out of this forest—now—if they valued their lives.
After a long, tense silence, Ligun attempted to regain control.
"Ahem! Listen up! I know you're all scared, but remember our orders. We can't just leave this thing here; it could endanger countless human lives. Strap him to the remaining horses and let's get out of here immediately." Ligun's voice was firm, his usual lax demeanor replaced by a commanding presence.
"Vice-Captain, you'll return alone to the Capital on a [Floating Board] to report our findings to the Cardinals. We'll retreat to one of the Fort Cities at the border. Understood?" Maya, already recovering from the shock, nodded at her captain.
"Yes, Captain. I'll leave immediately.~" She gave a quick salute, cast a [Floating Board, and flew off to the east, eager to report to her superiors.
Ligun watched her until she became a speck on the horizon and then turned his attention to the armored being.
Dozens of their group had died in that dungeon, trying to escape from that… thing. Now, the remaining personnel were tying the entity up for transport, their anxiety palpable as they took extra precautions to avoid triggering another disaster.
'Here's hoping it doesn't wake up mid-transport… At least I made it out alive. When this is all over, I'll sleep like there's no tomorrow in a warm bed with some hot milk by my side…' Ligun thought, allowing himself a small smile. It had been a long, exhausting day.
…
Days had passed since what the humans of the continent began to call "The Anomaly." The unknown burst of mana that every competent magic caster felt, though their descriptions of it varied according to talent or sensitivity. None, however, could explain the origin of this event—not even the renowned Imperial Court Wizard of the Baharuth Empire, Fluder Paradyne, who was capable of conjuring magic of the legendary 6th tier. Still, this lack of understanding didn't stop them from wildly theorizing, even if none came close to the truth.
In the capital city of the Slane Theocracy, Maya Ivras Coloco had just finished delivering her report to the Pontifex Maximus and the Six Cardinals, the highest-ranking officials of the nation, who often dictated its overall direction. Each of the Cardinals represented one of their gods: Water, Earth, Fire, Wind, Life, and Death.
"... Hmm. I see… Thank you for your report, Vice-Captain. You may leave," the Pontifex Maximus, the head of the Slane Theocracy, said in a calm, measured voice to the kneeling woman. He and his colleagues had much to discuss regarding this new dilemma they now faced.
"Yes, your Excellency.~" Maya rose, respectfully bowed, and exited the room. The Pontifex Maximus folded his hands on the table where the Cardinals were seated and initiated their meeting.
"So? What do you all think?"
"I believe this to be a great opportunity for us. If we can harness the power of our subject, we could significantly advance our agenda, perhaps even bringing an end to the war with the Elf Kingdom while simultaneously defending ourselves against the Argland Council State." Zinedine Delan Guelfi, the Cardinal of Water, spoke first. Known for his brilliant mind, it was no surprise that he was the first to voice his thoughts.
"Although I agree with this logic, are we certain we can control this being? We all felt its power—it's beyond anything I've encountered…" Maximilian Oreio Lagier, the Cardinal of Darkness, interjected, his tone tinged with worry. He wasn't convinced they had the resources to manage this new threat.
"Hmph! Not beyond one of the gifts our gods bestowed upon us. If we use [Downfall of Castle and Country, that thing will be under our control permanently," Dominic Ihre Partouche, the Cardinal of Wind, countered, his voice filled with arrogance. Almost nothing in this world could resist the mind-controlling spell their gods had taught them.
"I agree on the use of the item, but we still haven't found a suitable replacement for Lady Kaire." Berenice Nagua Santini, the Cardinal of Fire, added with concern. Lady Kaire had died from her injuries when a powerful vampire attacked their Black Scripture.
"Then we should secure one with all haste! We cannot risk letting this opportunity slip through our fingers," Dominic exclaimed, his voice rising with urgency.
"Calm yourself, Dominic. There's no need to raise your voice…" Yvon Jasna Delacroix, the Cardinal of Light, gently reprimanded his colleague. Known for his emphasis on decorum, Yvon often pointed out breaches of etiquette among their ranks, though he was rarely overbearing about it.
"My apologies, Yvon. But my point still stands." Dominic finished, crossing his arms. A few seconds of silence followed before another Cardinal spoke up.
"It's fine, Dominic. I believe we're all in agreement. We will prepare the next holder of [Downfall of Castle and Country] as quickly as possible." Raymond Zarg Lauransan, the Cardinal of Earth and commander of the prestigious Six Scriptures, responded, and the other Cardinals nodded in agreement.
"But that brings us to a critical question: where will we hold this being while preparations are made? Surely we can't simply hope it doesn't escape…" Yvon interlocked his fingers and asked the question weighing on everyone's mind. They couldn't afford to be unprepared when handling such a dangerous entity.
"The safest place would be one of our hideouts up north, near the Re-Estize Kingdom's border. The kingdom doesn't bother investigating our side anyway. We should also employ every anti-divination magic at our disposal to conceal its location. We certainly weren't the only ones to perceive these events, especially not Platinum Dragon Lord…" Zinedine proposed, his suggestion met with murmurs of agreement from the others.
"A good proposition, Zinedine. The Windflower Scripture will maintain guard over this… anomaly until they can be properly reinforced and relieved. Until then, we will maintain total secrecy within our ranks for the sake of national security." Raymond concluded. The other Cardinals exchanged glances at his choice of words.
In truth, none of them knew how to properly address the armored giant they had captured. They didn't even know if it was alive or if it was some kind of golem. They were considering examining the secret vaults their gods had left behind for clues. Based on the Vice-Captain's report, it was possible their gods had known the true identity of this being.
But regardless of what it was, what truly mattered was the power it possessed. Just days ago, they had been prepared to use their [World Item] on the Catastrophe Dragon Lord if not for the interference of that vampire. Now, they had stumbled upon something that could rival, perhaps even surpass, one of the infamous Dragon Lords. They intended to use this enormous advantage for the good of all humankind. It was nothing short of miraculous how this opportunity had fallen into their laps just when they needed it most…
"...Mhm. I believe we've found a sensible course of action. If there's nothing more to add, let us move on to other matters of state that require our attention…" Pontifex Maximus suggested, and the meeting shifted to discuss other pressing issues.
…
The flying city of Eryuentiu.
A massive fortress hovering above the ground, located in a desert south of the Slane Theocracy. According to legend, the Eight Greed Kings built it as the capital of their empire when they ruled the continent. Even after their downfall, the floating fort still stands imposingly in the air, protected by thirty guards wielding unknown magical weapons.
Curiously, the structure generates an endless supply of water, cascading like a waterfall to the desert below. Because of this, a prosperous metropolis has flourished beneath the castle's shadow, shrouded by a magic enchantment that conceals it from onlookers.
Tsaindorcus Vaision, famously known as Platinum Dragon Lord, slumbered in a chamber within Eryuentiu. He had taken residence in this place centuries ago, after the Eight Greed Kings were destroyed in their civil war, vowing to protect the treasures contained there so they would never fall into the wrong hands. His peace was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. He hummed and opened his lizard-like eyes, recognizing the presence of an old friend.
"It's been a long time, Tsa.~" An older woman greeted him with a smile.
Rigrit Bers Caurau, one of the Thirteen Heroes from 200 years ago. Tsaindorcus raised his massive head, now fully awake, but said nothing.
"What's wrong? Have you forgotten how to say hello?~" Rigrit teased, her mischievous nature unchanged after all these years.
"Ha-ha, my apologies, Rigrit. I was just overwhelmed with emotion at seeing an old friend again," Tsaindorcus responded politely, a hint of humor in his tone.
The two began reminiscing about their time together as members of the Thirteen Heroes, discussing Tsaindorcus' deception, Rigrit's retirement, and the fate of the girl named Inberun. But both knew that a far more serious matter needed addressing.
"So, Tsa… You already know why I'm here, don't you…?" Rigrit's tone grew uncharacteristically serious. The Dragon Lord nodded solemnly.
"Umu. Great powers are roaming our world once again, my friend. This time, they are stronger than ever..." His gaze briefly flicked to his platinum armor, still bearing the marks of battle from his encounter with that powerful vampire.
It unsettled him deeply that the "Advent of Players," which occurred every hundred years, continued to threaten their world—an unfortunate legacy of his father...
Yet, Tsaindorcus was resolved to defend his home against this scourge until his last dying breath. This he solemnly swore.
"Have you determined their nature? Are they allies of the world this time?" Rigrit asked, her face serious. Tsaindorcus knew that if something could make Rigrit this grave, it was not a matter to be taken lightly. Keeping his allies in the dark would serve no purpose, and so he spoke candidly.
"I can confidently infer that one of them is evil. However, the 'anomaly' is another matter entirely… In all honesty, I had forgotten about 'him' in the six centuries that have passed, believing the matter resolved. Clearly, I was wrong."
"Him? Who are you talking about?~" The old magic caster questioned, curiosity piqued. The Anomaly was someone? If that were true… the consequences could be catastrophic.
The dragon hesitated, clearly uncomfortable discussing the subject further. This involved something far more dangerous than the Players themselves. But after a few moments, he relented, divulging what he knew.
"Hmm… 'He' was one of the first to arrive from Yggdrasil, 600 years ago. His power… was immeasurable. Not even my father could fairly compete. When he first arrived, in his wild state, he raised mountains and flooded entire lands with the seas, altering the continent's landscape forever. The Dragon Lords of old were at a loss for what to do." Platinum Dragon Lord paused, allowing this information to sink in before continuing.
"The Six Great Gods, in contrast, knew exactly who he was and described him in great detail. They referred to him as a 'Boss,' one of the strongest they knew of. They clarified that he wasn't a 'Player' but was more akin to an 'NPC,' although he was created differently by entities they called 'Devs'." He pronounced the foreign terms as he remembered them from the Six Great Gods.
"They approached the Dragon Lords for assistance in dealing with the uncontrollable 'beast' that was still convulsing from its own power. The Dragon Lords, with little choice, set aside their pride and agreed to join forces. In an incredible display of unity, they succeeded in their task, and the 'Boss' was contained… until now." Tsaindorcus finished his tale, leaving Rigrit in shock.
This was unprecedented. If this 'Boss' was on the loose, what could they possibly do to stop him? Yet, she still held hope, knowing that Tsaindorcus remained strong. After taking a moment to process the gravity of the situation, she spoke.
"...From what you've said, Tsa, he wasn't in his right state of mind when he first arrived. I know the power of both the True Dragon Lords and those from Yggdrasil, so how were they able to defeat this 'Boss'?" If this being was as powerful as her friend claimed, there were few, if any, who could stop him.
"Surprisingly, the being was greatly weakened by the time they confronted him, according to the Six Gods. But even in that state, he was too powerful to be slain. They theorized that his outbursts were a result of his full power gradually leaving him, due to the differing natures of our world and Yggdrasil. So, it was decided by both the Dragon Lords and the Six Great Gods to imprison the 'Boss' in a special dungeon, using both Tier and Wild magic to hold him indefinitely. Evidently… they didn't account for the possibility that he might be released centuries later…"
Tsaindorcus shook his head at the ancient miscalculation but eventually let it go. Dwelling on past mistakes would achieve nothing, a lesson he knew all too well…
Rigrit placed a finger on her chin, deep in thought. The weight of this revelation was immense, even for someone as old and experienced as she was—someone who had once fought the Evil Deities. But she knew that inaction would be disastrous. They had to do something before their world faced a threat it was woefully unprepared for.
"Does he have a name?" Rigrit asked quietly, and the dragon slowly nodded.
"Antares, the Son of Yggdrasil."
...
Deep beneath the earth, an armored being was shackled in chains, secured to the wall of a fortified cell. The guards actively avoided this cell, whispering amongst themselves that their prisoner was a bad omen from the gods, or perhaps something that shouldn't exist in this plane of reality.
They prayed and prayed that the prisoner would not awaken, lest another cataclysm befall them. They knew all too well what this being was capable of. Unfortunately, their prayers went unanswered, for their fears soon materialized… but not in the way they had expected.
The being stirred, its fingers twitching slightly. Its feet, which had been hanging limply, slowly found purchase on the floor, and it stood.
The helmeted head lifted, and from its empty eye-sockets, golden stars gleamed with a lost brilliance before fading back into darkness.
The guards outside heard a voice, otherworldly to their ears, but notably weak.
"Where…
am…
I…?"
Opinions? Thoughts? Ideas?