Chapter 47: A Voice

  I approached the edge of the void, peering down into the darkness for any sign of Goren or the Razor Basilisk, but there was nothing. The void had swallowed them both, quite literally.

  I glanced up, trying to orient myself. Based on what I could see of the surrounding structure – and considering the tomb had thirty-five levels – I estimated I was somewhere in the late 20s.

  Well, at least Goren didn’t attempt to backstab me…

  I sighed, turning back toward the doorway.

  Now what? Where do I even go? It just felt so random to basically start this run on a random level.

  Well...maybe I could use this run to farm? Yeah, that sounded like the best option. Let’s see what the monsters here could offer.

  I glanced at Checkpoint’s timer.

  [Checkpoint lvl. 2: Time left until Anchor expires – 45:12]

  Forty-five minutes. Nice.

  I needed to capitalize on that. If this run turned out to be fruitful in XP, maybe – just maybe – I could let a random monster kill me to respawn and repeat it.

  Wait. What?

  I couldn’t believe my own thoughts. Was I just actually considering letting myself get killed for more XP?

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  The worst part was, despite my immediate revulsion, my mind wasn’t rejecting the idea. It felt…sound. Logical, even. Had I already done this before? Willingly let a monster kill me to optimize my Checkpoint farming?

  The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

  My conversation with Pix and Balthor came rushing back: each run was a different universe. Was I not just becoming a different Aidan with every loop, but an entirely different person?

  If my mind could so easily rationalize dying on purpose – even when I lacked my full memory, was I even me anymore?

  I shook my head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. I had to push forward. I needed to trust the process. If my muffled memories from the last run told me anything is that Erebus had succeeded incredibly. So much so even Chronos had been weakened to loss of consciousness.

  Without allowing myself another moment of hesitation, I stepped forward into the unknown.

  ***

  Dodging another attack from a Grave Mole with a Dash Step, I positioned myself for Horizon, unleashing a powerful wave of wind that struck the four moles attacking me. Already low on HP, they fell, shredded by the force of the attack.

  [+544 XP]

  [+544 XP]

  [+544 XP]

  [+544 XP]

  I exhaled, exhausted but also relieved. They were so strong, but they couldn’t even land a single hit. I was definitely getting stronger if I managed something like this.

  Then, a dopamine-induced message chimed in.

  [Quest Completed: Whack-a-Mole #1]

  [Reward: 10,000 XP]

  [+10,000 XP]

  [New Quest Available: Whack-a-Mole #2]

  [Slay 90 Grave Moles]

  [Current Status: 31 / 90]

  [Reward: 15,000 XP]

  I blinked. Thirty-one? I’d already taken down thirty-one of these bastards? Not bad, Aidan, not bad at all.

  I glanced at the Déjà vu status screen.

  [Déjà vu System: Level 27]

  [Loop Count: 38]

  [Experience Points (XP): 14,924 / 20,000]

  Good. I was so close to the next level I could almost taste it.

  And I still have around 20 minutes left until Checkpoint expired.

  Then, a sudden thought hit me – my Air Magic skill tree! It doesn’t pop a notification for an upgrade unless new skills are available. Goren got me so busy since the beginning of this loop, I didn’t even check.

  [Spellsword / Arcane Duelist]

  [Air Magic Skill Tree]

  1. Wind Rush – Lvl.3 / 3 – [MAX]

  A gust of wind guides you and enhances your movement for the next two minutes. Can stack with other dodge/evasion skills. Cooldown: None.

  2. Wind Blast – Lvl.2 / 3 – [37,544/15,000XP] – Upgrade Available

  Release a small, short-ranged blast of condensed wind capable of inflicting a Stun. Cooldown: 3 seconds.

  3. Horizon – Lvl.3 / 3 – [MAX]

  Perform a horizontal slash with your weapon of choice to unleash a destructive wave of wind capable of AOE damage. Cooldown: 2 minutes.

  4. Wind Wall – Lvl.3 / 3 – [MAX]

  Create a wind barrier that blocks incoming projectiles. Cooldown: 3 minutes.

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  5. Wind Arrow – Lvl.2 / 3 – [37,544/20,000XP] – Upgrade Available

  Release long-ranged wind arrows capable of AOE damage when charged. Cooldown: regular– 1 second. Charged – 20 seconds. Charge duration – 5 seconds.

  6. Wind Fortification – Lvl.2 / 3 – [37,544/30,000XP]

  Negates fatal damage once by fortifying the body with wind magic. Cooldown: 1 hour.

  7. Burning Damage Resistance – Lvl.1 / 1 – [MAX]

  You are resistant to burning damage.

  8. Flight – Lvl.1 / 3 – [37,544/15,000XP]

  Defy gravity and fly for 3 seconds. Cooldown: 1 minute.

  Holy…

  I stared, torn between the options.

  I could maximize Wind Blast and level up Flight at the same time, gaining both close-quarters utility and enhanced mobility. Or…I could invest everything into Wind Fortification – a skill that could literally save my life. At max level, its cooldown would probably drop significantly. Did I even use it before? I couldn’t even tell with my amnesia.

  Then there was Wind Arrow, my best ranged attack skill. Reducing its cooldown on charged shots would make it far deadlier. And with enough XP left, I could still upgrade Wind Blast or Flight.

  Too many good choices. Oh, what to choose?

  Not wanting to waste any more time, I decided to maximize Wind Arrow and Wind Blast.

  With that done, I stepped back into the corridor, making my way toward the staircase ahead.

  As I walked, I retrieved another Lumindew from my inventory and swallowed it. The effect of the previous one were close to their end.

  [Item Consumed: Lumindew x1]

  [Night Vision activated. Duration: 30 minutes. Visual range enhanced in low-light areas]

  I descended, reaching a new level – a new dark corridor.

  That’s when I heard it.

  A voice. Human.

  The sound was too muffled to make out, but it was unmistakably a person speaking.

  I activated Distance Gauge, immediately locking onto its source in the first chamber to my left. Confused – but sensing no other presence outside of the voice – I entered the chamber, searching for the source.

  “Need. Need. Need to write.” The figure in front of me muttered. “Must. Must write. High Priestess Lysandra ordered.”

  The voice belonged to a woman – I assumed by the long dark hair flowing down her back. She was kneeling in the center of the chamber with her back to me.

  As my eyes focused on her, the System and Temporal Trace reacted – Diona, Priestess of Axul – level 90.

  Diona? The same girl from the memory fragment?

  Her skin was pale – ghastly pale, like that of the undead I’d encountered earlier. She was hunched over, focused on something in front of her, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

  I moved forward slowly, careful not to scare her off, trying to see what held her attention.

  “Must. Write.” She repeated, her voice almost hollow, almost mechanical. “Must. Write.”

  In her trembling hands, she clutched a knife, carving furiously into the stone floor. Strange, incomprehensible symbols sprawled before her, a language I couldn’t recognize – likely no one could as the symbols seemed more like the drawings of a child.

  “Need to write.” She said, her head twitching. “High Priestess Lysandra said so.”

  The sound of her voice sent a chill through me. She sounded nothing like the girl from the memory fragment, yet there was no mistaking it. I recognized the face. It was her.

  Despite her incredibly pale skin, her face still looked young. I could even make out faint freckles across her cheeks. But her eyes – milky white, just like the undead and Grave Moles I’d encountered. She was likely undead as well.

  Yet, she was still capable of speech.

  How?

  Suddenly, she turned her head sharply, looking directly at me. Her vacant eyes sent a chill through me, but after a brief pause, she returned to her task.

  “Write. Write.” She repeated. “Write. Need to write.”

  Curious, I decided to try speaking to her. “Diona?”

  Her head snapped toward me at the mention of her name, reacting to it. But as quickly as she’d turned, she went back to carving symbols into the stone floor.

  She didn’t seem hostile, so I tried again, trying a different approach. “What are you writing?”

  This time, she stopped for a moment, her head twitching slightly. “High Priestess. High Priestess told me to write. So, I write.” She replied, her tone monotonous.

  “What did she want you to write?”

  “Everything.” She said, her voice wavering. Her head twitched again as she resumed her carving. “I must write. Write everything.”

  I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity as I watched her. The contrast between this frail, hollow shell of a person to the healthy woman I’d seen in the memory fragment was staggering.

  What had happened to her? How did she end up as an undead?

  Christian’s words echoed in my mind – his suggestion that the Axul’s plans might still be in motion even now. Could he actually be right?

  “What is everything?” I asked cautiously, hoping the question wasn’t too vague for her weak mind.

  “Everything is…” she trailed off, her voice faltering. “I don’t know.”

  Her response made her pause, her knife hovering above the stone floor. For the first time, she seemed truly still, lost in thought.

  She wasn’t the only one as I struggled to understand what was going on.

  “Diona,” I began carefully, “what did Lysandra truly asked you to do?”

  “She. She asked me to write. To write everything.” She responded, her head twitching again.

  I shook my head. That was too vague. A bad question.

  “Why did she ask you to write?” I pressed. “Did something happen before that to make her ask you?”

  Diona nodded slowly, still staring forward, lost in her own world.

  “The heir came,” she said. “The heir came, and she told me to leave. She told me to write. To write. To write until I die. And even after I die.”

  A chill ran down my spine at her words. Lysandra already seemed dangerous based on the memory fragment, but this? This was just nuts. She had sent this girl here to write until her death – and beyond? And Diona listened? Was she under a trance or something?

  Christian’s earlier theory began to feel disturbingly plausible.

  “Who is this heir you mentioned, Diona?” I asked cautiously.

  “The heir.” She replied. “Heir of Axul.”

  “Yes, Diona, but who is this heir?” I pressed, thinking of Kelltins despite it making no sense chronologically. “Is it Noctyra?”

  She snapped her head toward me again, her pale, vacant eyes locking onto mine. “Yes. Noctyra is heir. The one to bring balance. The one to set the world right.”

  I sighed heavily. How could this be? Kelltins wasn't alive a thousand years ago...right?

  I looked at Diona. She didn’t seem capable of revealing anything more.

  As I turned to leave, her voice cut through the silence again.

  “You. You can see him. He’s here. Above. Above us. Glorious.”

  My heart raced. Kelltins was here? Despite everything, despite his claims of abandoning the quest, he was here, now? I knew we couldn’t trust him.

  I needed to get out of here – fast. If Kelltins or any of his mind-controlled monsters marked me for Erebus, it would all be over.

  I stepped forward, but a deep howl froze me in place.

  Five creatures stormed the chamber. The System identified them immediately: Undead Wolves – level 70.

  I prepared myself for a fight, but to my surprise, their attention wasn’t on me. Instead, they locked onto Diona and charged toward her.

  In shock at what I was seeing, but still feeling incredibly terrible for her, I rushed in to help. She didn’t deserve this, no matter what she’d become.

  I slammed into one of the wolves mid-air before it could reach her.

  Diona didn’t even flinch. She barely seemed aware that she was being attacked, her voice a steady monotone as she continued carving into the stone.

  “I write. I need. I need to write.”

  “Diona!” I shouted, blocking another wolf’s strike with Silverfang. “Snap out of it! Escape! You don’t need to write anymore!”

  But she ignored me, her focus unbroken, her knife scratching feverishly on the floor.

  I sighed heavily, frustration and disbelief washing over me – at myself out of everyone.

  “Fine.” I muttered. “I’ll protect you.”

  I wasn’t sure why, but I knew I had to help her. Maybe it was the memory of her from the fragment, or maybe it was sheer pity of what she’d been reduced to. Either way, I couldn’t let her be torn apart – not like this.

  Even if she was already dead.

  Even if she was an Undead.

  I activated Blade Rush, closing the distance to the nearest wolf and striking it with a quick combo.

  [+318 XP]

  With one down, I turned my attention to the rest of the pack. Their focus finally shifted from Diona to me.

  One lunged, jaws snapping, but I dodged with Dash Step, repositioning myself. I aimed for the furthest wolf, closing the gap with another Blade Rush and striking hard, following up with a finishing blow.

  [+318 XP]

  Before I could catch my breath, another wolf lunged at me. I ducked just in time, aiming my free hand at its face and unleashing Wind Blast. The skill landed, stunning it momentarily.

  Taking advantage of the stun status and the guaranteed critical strike, I one-shotted it with my glaive.

  [+318 XP]

  Two more left.

  I focused on them, activating Blade Rush to close the distance and dispatched of them swiftly with precise strikes.

  [+318 XP]

  [+318 XP]

  With the room clear, I turned back to Diona. She was still kneeling, her knife hovering above the floor.

  “Diona!” I called out, my voice almost desperate. “Lysandra is an evil bitch! You don’t have to listen to her anymore!”

  She suddenly froze. The blade in her hand dropped, clattering against the stone.

  “High Priestess. High Priestess Lysandra is...a bitch.” Diona murmured. Slowly, she began to rise, her movements stiff and unsteady. Her milky eyes turned to me. “Where? Where can I go? My parents? Where? Help. Help me. Please.”

  My heart twisted at the sight of her.

  I shook my head, realizing I was about to help an Undead of all things – an Undead!

  Before I could respond, another howl echoed through the corridor outside – Déjà vu recognizing this one.

  It was louder. Deeper.

  And then it appeared.

  Pack Leader, level 75.