Golden.

  In a distant area, in a sea of blue, there was gold.

  Small and contained, but it was there.

  Enough presence to disturb the flow, yet hidden enough not to hinder it as a whole.

  All around the blue and gold was black—pitch black, pure and unveiled darkness.

  Seeing this, Faust didn’t understand, but he wasn’t perplexed either.

  Then the vision faded.

  Opening his eye, Faust saw a dark sky above him. Then a moon appeared—except it wasn’t blue, but golden. An illuminating pearl set into the pyramid’s ceiling.

  Did I dream something?

  What was it… doesn’t matter now. Where am I?

  Analyzing the area, it was easy to understand what it was, if not exactly where.

  A garden of sorts. Beautiful flowers of a multitude of colors paved the entire floor, extending as far as he could see.

  This area was much larger than the previous rooms—so much so it felt like a completely different place, as if multiple chambers had merged into one greater hall.

  At the same time, Faust assessed his body. His injuries had healed, though scars remained.

  Judging by how completely his wounds had closed, he estimated that days had passed—less time wouldn’t have been enough to heal all of them.

  Well, it’s a pity I couldn’t use the sacrifice rune on those beasts. Such a lost opportunity. It’s also a pity that…

  Observing his naked body, memories from not so long ago resurfaced. This time, he was naked because the beasts had torn all his clothing.

  It was an expected outcome, but not a welcome one. At least Iron-Beak was still with him, and there were no lasting consequences besides the loss of wearable items.

  Since there wasn’t much to do by staying still, Faust began to cross the dark garden alongside his trustworthy companion—the best he’d ever had!

  …

  “What do you say, Beak?” Faust asked. “Mhm. I agree. I’ve still got too much to improve.

  “To start, my physical strength isn’t great. If it were better, those damn dogs wouldn’t have pinned me down.

  “Not only that, but my speed and reflexes are also lacking. If those were wind wolves instead, I’d be dead a thousand times over. There would be no chance.

  “Though, I guess I’ve been using you better. I’m learning… slowly, but I am, and that’s what matters, isn’t it?”

  “…” Iron-Beak replied.

  “Sure. I know you’re not a talkative one, but if I stay like I was, I’ll go crazy. I don’t want that to happen, so I’ve got to speak. Chris wasn’t someone I could talk to as much as I can with you.

  “Speaking of that bastard, when we find him again, he’s going to pay the price—a hefty one. At least he taught me a bit about mana, even if it wasn’t very useful in the end.

  “Am I untalented with it? Am I untalented despite having a talent? How would that even work? It’s something to think about, isn’t it?”

  “…” Beak remained unmoving. Impressive!

  “I’ve noticed that too. This area is too empty. I haven’t sensed, heard, or seen any enemy until now. Apparently, it’s simply like that.”

  Then, as they kept walking forward nonstop, something finally came into sight. Beyond the carpet of flowers, there was a square… a rectangle.

  It instantly caught his eye. Faust carefully approached it.

  Closing in revealed no danger, but something else.

  The rectangle was made of dark stone, the same as the pyramid, it seemed. Hundreds of engravings covered it—artworks of a high level of craftsmanship, something even untrained eyes could appreciate.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  They depicted a mounted knight fighting a horde of enemies, the same knight receiving honors, and other engravings that followed the same theme.

  A heavy, thick lid divided the structure, engraved with a knight lying down, two swords crossed above his chest, and a shield resting atop both—a common symbol on knights’ coffins. Faust had seen it many times in books.

  “A coffin…” Faust muttered.

  “This place… No, there’s only one coffin. For now, what should I do with this...?”

  Curiosity was a tough trait to have. Faust was caught between two decisions, each with different risks.

  Should he open the coffin? Anything inside could reveal much, and there might even be items to better equip himself.

  But opening it could be dangerous. His instincts warned him, and his mind agreed. The decision should have been difficult, but it wasn’t.

  In the end, after lingering for a bit, Faust decided to let the resting one stay resting. Disturbing the dead was a bad omen... especially one inside this place.

  Thankfully, that proved to be a good decision, because some time later he found another coffin. This one was much less detailed but still impressive compared to the simple dirt graves Faust was accustomed to.

  Judging by the engravings, this coffin belonged to a mage. A simple but antique sentence was inscribed on its side:

  “Marc Lumiant III, Great Archmage of the Mrakt Kingdom.”

  This time, the will not to open the coffin and explore its contents had to be strong. Faust sweated at the possibility of losing potential loot, but it was better to lose it than to risk his life. Everything in this dungeon was unpredictable and dangerous.

  He wouldn’t take any risks beyond his level.

  Forcefully turning his head away, Faust went back to walking and exploring the place. He found multiple tombs, many with simple engravings and titles.

  “Alain Stark, Honorable Knight of the Mrakt Kingdom.”

  “Hiseld T., Honorable Mage of the Mrakt Kingdom.”

  “Marie C., Honorable Alchemist of the Mrakt Kingdom.”

  And the list went on, honoring many knights, mages, and alchemists. Those three were apparently held in high regard. This sparked a question in Faust’s mind: why was that first tomb he found unnamed?

  Curious, but again—let the dead keep resting.

  After a while, Faust reached another coffin, but this one was different. It didn’t rest on the ground. Instead, it lay atop a square pyramid with sets of stairs on all four sides.

  Contrasting with the tomb itself, the small pyramid was made of light gray stone blocks. Without wasting time, Faust climbed it and reached the coffin, whose lid was destroyed.

  Instead of fear, he was gripped by curiosity. The threshold had been broken; the allure was too much to ignore.

  “Interesting,” Faust said as he traced the name on the side of the coffin with his fingers.

  “Stella Mrakt II, Child of Cold and Ice, Princess of a Hundred Legions, Reigner of Royal Knights, Ruler of the Frontier, Lilac in the White, Flower of Winter.

  “On this sacred realm, gazing at the azure moon, lies the last of the Mrakt Bloodline. May Her reign be remembered for eternity, Her rule echoed through the heavens, Her memories guarded by the Gods, Her honor perpetuated, and Peace maintained.”

  Faust took a while to read all of it, re-reading a couple of times to fix it in his mind. This coffin belonged to someone important—apparently a queen or princess of the Mrakt Kingdom, however their royal structure functioned.

  Compared to the previous tombs, this one bore the most impressive engravings and incomparably the longest description.

  “Reigner of Royal Knights… Ruler of the frontier… who was that woman? I’ve never seen that name before, nor the kingdom name.” Faust glanced down at Iron-Beak. “What do you think about that?”

  “…”

  “True. For someone seemingly so impressive… I wonder why her casket is broken.”

  Stella Mrakt II. I will remember that name.

  Trying to see inside the coffin through the broken lid, Faust stood on the tips of his toes.

  Just as his eye connected to the abyss inside, the abyss did not look back.

  It screamed.

  Instantly, his body locked in place.

  A thousand different kinds of information. No information at all. Thousands of millions of different voices speaking—not speaking—at the same time.

  “Broken.”

  “Lie.”

  “Betrayal.”

  “Fall. Forgotten. Fickle.”

  “End. Time. Stop. Gods. Demons.”

  All these words reverberated infinitely inside Faust’s mind. Red seeped from his eyes, nostrils, and ears.

  “Chosen.”

  “Not chosen.”

  “Strong.”

  “Not strong.”

  “Disgusting.”

  Visions of a fallen kingdom. A fallen civilization from too far in the past. Impossible to see with clarity. Impossible to understand fully.

  Paths. Corridors. Doors. Ways. A Trial.

  A broken temple. Under the moon. Far. Cold.

  Too much. It was all too much.

  Demons. Many demons. Beasts towering to the heavens. Humans beating beasts. Races. Other races. Hundreds of them. Too many of them.

  Grand. Priceless. Timeless. Towers of gold. Castles of crystal. A civilization too advanced. It flourished under the blue.

  What a beautiful moon it was. What a beautiful moon it was. What a beautiful moon it is. What a beautiful moon it is. What a beautiful moon it is. What a beautiful moon it is. Observe the moon. Observe the moon. It’s beautiful. It’s beautiful. It’s beautiful. It’s beautiful. It’s beautiful.

  Tears streamed. Faust wanted to cry. He wanted to move. He wanted to do so much. His skin burned; his mind ached with knowledge of something that should not be known.

  An eye. An eye of colors no human could describe—nor should see. It parted the heavens. It parted the horizon.

  A woman. A woman whose body was marked with a thousand sigils.

  Something deeper. Something hidden. A calamity waiting for its awakening.

  Himself. Covered in snow and grime and mud and blood and scars.

  Bodies. Many bodies. Hundreds? Thousands in the future.

  No more.

  Faust had the eyes of someone who had seen too much and unfortunately lived to tell the tale.

  Using the last of his strength, the last of his willpower, the last of his own being, he drove Iron-Beak through his own abdomen.

  The shock allowed him to react for a split second—a moment he used to throw himself far away from the coffin, back onto the flowery ground as he struggled to calm his breathing.

  He vomited, but there was nothing to vomit. Water? He hadn’t been drinking. Blood.

  Trembling, he struggled to understand even an insignificant fraction of all he had seen. Only a single word remained clearly engraved deep inside.

  Apotheosis.