Next day...
"This is disturbing," Amon noted calmly as he stared at the runes. He was deep within the catacombs, exploring them in silence.
Even after three months of research, he still didn't understand why the catacombs had been built or why they contained countless skeletons.
Staring at the literal sea of bones, he felt appalled, his sense of humor completely drained. Back then, he hadn't considered this place important, but now he needed every bit of information he could gather for the Nightmare, since it would be just as deadly and unforgiving as this place had been for those pitiful people.
From what he understood, the denizens of the Forgotten Shore had been merciless and cruel, bordering on being as disturbing as nightmare creatures... No, most likely worse.
They were willing to go as far as possible in order to bring light to a land that had been denied of it.
Still, perhaps it was those people's fault. If they hadn't killed the Nephilim, then everything would have been fine. Why did they do it? What had the Nephilim done to warrant such hatred? Was it something as simple, yet inherently human, as fear, or was the Nephilim hated by everyone simply for existing?
Amon shook his head. There was no use dwelling on that now. The only thing he needed was information about the dark city, since his visions had already shown him that the Nephilim was dead in the Nightmare.
Looking around, he saw prison cells and hundreds of cold, rusty chains binding skeletons in place. Kneeling down, he took a deep breath, his brow furrowed, and used Decryption to understand what had transpired in this godforsaken place.
"Hm? What's that?" he murmured. In the next second, his expression tightened and he began digging feverishly, sensing that he was close to uncovering something vital, something truly important.
"Wait a second…" He stopped, closed his eyes, and exhaled. In his excitement, he had forgotten about Theft. If he continued digging with his hands, it would take hours.
He flicked his wrist, using Theft to remove the skeletons at the top. It wasn't enough, so he repeated the process. Inch by inch, he went deeper until he finally found what he was searching for.
Narrowing his eyes, he examined the prison cell and what remained inside. He saw a rib, then a fibula, a tibia, a femur, and lastly a skull.
Staring at it, he tilted his head. A child's? Yes, it was. No older than five. Another set of remains suggested one around twelve.
Damn it... What the hell happened here?
This place was the deepest part of the catacombs, and it was split into three sectors. The first was filled with a sea of bones. The second was a prison, lined with cells and chains. And lastly...
He relied on his superior observation. His eyes widened as he activated Spirit Vision as well. Nodding to himself, he walked forward into the final sector. Before him lay a giant runic circle and the familiar sight of bones. Beyond that, he noticed that the circle was shaped like a hexagram.
Within the six triangles, and at the center, were seven different objects.
At the center rested a simple band of metal, decorated with a single glowing gem.
In the first triangle lay a graceful war hammer, one side of its head forged into the shape of a narrow beak.
The second contained an austere tachi, dark and unbreakable.
The third held a beautiful bronze spear, followed by a heavy round shield, a flowing white cloak, and lastly, a ghostly stiletto.
Amon remained still as he observed the ancient relics. Replicas of the shard memories? Yes, without a worm of doubt. But a question rose in his heart. What was the intention behind these replicas and the runic circle?
He hummed and used Decryption once again, observing the runes through Spirit Vision. He searched for a few seconds until he felt a bizarre yet oddly familiar aura emanating from somewhere but it disappeared instantly.
"I see…" he murmured, smiling faintly as he lowered himself and touched the circle. He infused it with essence, activating the runic formation.
Slowly, the stone groaned and began to rise. At first, only the center of the runic circle lifted, followed by the triangles, which shifted and reshaped themselves into a construct. And not just any construct, but...
"The Crimson Spire?" Amon asked aloud, blinking in surprise as he watched in fascination.
The shield became giant walls, protecting the dark city.
The austere tachi became the people of the dark city, indomitable and relentless.
The white cloak became the priestesses praying for the return of light.
The bronze spear became the warriors who fought in the dark.
The hammer became what built everything, the city, the walls, and the spire itself.
As for the ghostly stiletto, it became what slit the throats of every living being, sacrificing them to the spire.
And lastly, the crown with the beautiful glowing gem shone brightly at the top of the spire.
It was the artificial sun.
He stared at the beautiful construct for a few seconds. Then he felt a pulse, the same familiar sensation returning.
Turning back, he looked at the empty hollow left behind by the rising hexagram. Beneath the city and the spire lay the seven shards, lifeless and cold, denied of light just like the ancient denizens of the Forgotten Shore.
Sacred shards...? Amon's eyes widened as he touched his chin, his expression growing thoughtful while Decryption worked relentlessly to uncover the secret behind what he was seeing.
"So they harvested the shards from that pitiful Nephilim. Makes sense. Why waste them?" He grinned as he stood up and straightened his posture.
Still, what did this mean? He tilted his head in confusion. Why was there a miniature version of the Dark City and the Crimson Spire? Why were the shards left behind by a sacred titan here? And how did the denizens of the Forgotten Shore even manage to kill a Nephilim?
Wait a second... It didn't make sense for a sun to appear out of nowhere. So it had to be countless sacrifices, the Crimson Spire, the soul conduit, and lastly the fragments of the soul of the one who took the light from this realm.
All of them acting as a catalyst to give birth to an artificial sun.
Maybe... He was not sure. As for how they managed to kill the Nephilim, he had no idea.
Amon sighed, feeling a bit dejected. While he had learned a lot, he still hadn't obtained the information he truly wanted. He had hoped to uncover knowledge about the events themselves. What happened, when it happened, and why it happened.
Shaking his head, he turned around. It was enough for today. He would return to research more later anyway. He had already spent hours in the catacombs, and frankly, he was tired.
Still, he hadn't been able to determine the true purpose of this place. What was this enchantment supposed to do? It might have served as a catalyst at first, but it wasn't limited to that. Shards fueled another enchantment as well, its function something else entirely.
He was also unable to understand why there was a prison here, or why there were skeletons of children among the remains.
Yet, for some reason, what worried him the most was none of that, but the bizarre feeling he was getting from another enchantment.
But as he took a step back, he froze, glancing at one of the skeletons. It was male, judging by what he could tell. Its skeletal fingers rested against the stone floor where runes were inscribed. Yet it was not an enchantment, only words. Even so, those words were far from comforting, and they left Amon unsettled.
[Why is time so cruel? When I am happy, it passes so quickly, vanishing in the blink of an eye. Yet when I am in pain, sad, lonely, and afraid, it stretches on endlessly.
I understand it now. The -Unknown- was never meant to be named. He is mysterious and bizarre, sitting loftily upon His throne, incomprehensible and great.
Nothing is permanent, and nothing escapes time, not even the six gods. In the end, time takes everything and offers it to the -Unknown-.]
Amon gulped, his expression filled with an inexplicable dread. He had not noticed it while his eyes were glued to the runes, but his body was drenched in sweat, trembling violently, his teeth clattering.
What the hell… Why does this feel so familiar? Where have I heard this… Amon stilled, swallowed hard, and glanced back at the runes. My Aspect description?
Indeed, his Aspect description portrayed Error in a strikingly similar way.
Suddenly, the darkness within the catacombs grew more oppressive, and the sound of water droplets falling onto cold stone reverberated across the deathly silent sector.
Amon took a step back, his face tightening with unease. Then he noticed a stone tablet. Beside it lay the skeleton of a child, but its bone structure was grotesquely deformed. It had four arms and two mouths. The first set of arms were normal, but the other pair grew from where the ribs should have been. As for the second mouth, it gaped from the stomach, lined with teeth that resembled serrated fangs rather than anything human.
The deformed child was clutching the tablet tightly. What appalled and horrified Amon wasn't only the body itself, but the fact that the tablet was disturbingly similar to the stone tablet he had used in the Hollow Mountains to inscribe his honorific name.
He gulped again, curiosity overwhelming his fear, and finally directed his gaze toward the runes carved into the stone.
[In the infinite tapestry of existence, the self is but a whisper of illusion.
Through the disillusion of ego, the -Unknown- transcends the laws of shadow, beast, war, heart, sun, storm, and dream.
And merges with the boundless void.
The -Unknown- becomes as eternal as time, as limitless as ever-expanding space, and as mysterious as the spirit.]
Amon's eyes went wide, his expression frozen in terror as the sound of cracking glass echoed within his skull. His vision fractured, and blood began to seep from his eyes. It felt as though his head had been split open, as if someone were hammering nails directly into his brain.
Groaning, he tore his gaze away, gasping as he collapsed into the sea of bones. He coughed violently while circulating his essence, struggling to stabilize his mental state.
What the hell? The runes felt corrupted, as if staring at them for too long would drive him mad. Luckily, he looked away in time. In just a split second, he almost lost control.
Sighing, he wiped his eyes and lay among the bones for a few minutes, thinking about the words as tenebrous darkness embraced his body like a cloak. The only visible thing was the crystal monocle, which would never lose its luster.
The self is nothing but an illusion? What does that mean? Maybe it meant that corruption would swallow everything. He thought so, yet even if he didn't want to admit it, the truth was as clear as the surface of an untouched lake.
I am everyone? Is that what it means?
For the first time, Amon wanted to become as dull-witted and foolish as some of the protagonists he had read about. Alas, he was far too self-aware for his own good.
Indeed, he knew that the Lord of Mysteries existed in this world, so it made sense that traces of His existence would remain, no matter how small or barely noticeable. Not to mention, no one besides him would understand these words. Decryption was one thing, but knowledge of the mystery paths was another.
Why did the runes mention the Unknown?For a moment, he thought it was the Forgotten God, but that didn't make sense, as the authorities didn't match. Or maybe no one was capable of pronouncing the true name of the Lord of Mysteries. That might be why even the Spell used aliases such as Mysteries or the Unknown, essentially the same things.
Then comes the disillusion of the ego to gain transcendence over the laws of the universe. This is definitely Error.
Errors fall outside the scope of all existing laws, inconceivable and unknowable.
Everyone is me.
And lastly, merging with the boundless void. But space is not empty. Then again, form is emptiness, and emptiness is form. No matter how far one travels, space will always remain bizarre and unexplored.
I am everywhere...
As he came to the realization, his furiously beating heart and trembling body gradually calmed. The clattering stopped as well, and he took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
Amon covered his face, unsure what to do with this information. If he truly had competitors vying for the Throne of Mysteries, then he was in serious trouble.
But if such enemies really existed, he should have heard of them. This world was dangerous, and they would inevitably have revealed themselves at some point. Yet from his research, no individual with abilities related to the Door or the Fool had ever appeared.
He frowned. He didn't understand. Where were they? He couldn't accept that none of them had heard of him if they truly existed. They were from the Mystery group. He refused to believe they were idiots like Anvil and Ki Song, allowing threats to grow without eliminating them. So why were they not killing him and taking his Uniqueness while he was still weak?
Amon groaned, dragging his body as he stood up. He had wanted to gain information about the nightmare he would inevitably face, but instead he had found something else entirely, perhaps something even more important than the nightmare itself.
I need to learn more, he thought. There must be traces left behind by the Lord of Mysteries. I need to find them and learn as much as I can.
But where could they be? Amon nodded to himself. The answer was obvious. The only being who recorded the true names of the void beings and buried forbidden knowledge to spare himself from the torment of knowing every truth... The Demon of Dread, Ariel. The knowledge he sought was hidden within the Graceless Caitiff's Tomb.
There were other possibilities as well. For example, Nether's Tower in the Chain Isles. Nether had left valuable knowledge behind in his tower. Amon didn't care about Weaver's legacy or Nether's obsession with the Storm God. What he needed was knowledge about Mysteries.
It seemed there was no need to create false lore. It already existed. That meant Medici, Luna, and that Hanged Man who had taken Uniqueness from her were the legacies of the Great Old Dominators like him.
I need to research other pathways as well and gather information about Uniquenesses, then locate them in order to help my friends reach the level of above sequences.
Hmm... What other places could hold the knowledge I desire? Amon paused, his expression growing thoughtful as he considered the domain of a certain god. A Heart God, also known as the God of Souls, emotion, memory, hunger, and growth.
Perhaps I could find what I seek within their domain. He shook his head. It was too dangerous. Until he became a Saint or a Supreme, he couldn't allow himself to step into that forest. It was filled with Great Rank abominations.
Ugh... I should have read the novel instead of stacking chapters. Where did I even stop? Oh, right. The war arc. What happened after that? He knew from spoilers that Sunny had started traveling to retrieve weaves. Should I start traveling as well? By exploring the citadels of the daemons, I might learn something. Not to mention, I could steal various treasures, including weaves.
Now that I have reconciled with him, I feel bad about stealing weaves...
Nah, I'd steal.
Well, if I have the opportunity, I will steal them and give them to him. That bastard is not such a bad guy. Wait, why did I think he was bad before? Well, he did leave Luna behind. That is one reason. Other than that? Hmm... Nothing. Not to mention, I am not that spiteful. I am quite peaceful. Most likely, I would have talked to him and figured out what happened. From what I understand, he didn't leave her intentionally but because he had no choice.
So why did I react so aggressively? And why did that hatred disappear as soon as I beat him? Sure, I have no interest in losers, but still...
Calm down... Let's think.
Amon summoned Endless Spring, drinking greedily, then dismissed the memory as he continued walking.
If he and Sunny had never come into conflict, what would Amon have done? He would have had a friendly relationship with Sunny, and Nephis as well. Under her leadership, he might not have even questioned whether there was a better alternative than her plan, and the same tragedy would have unfolded as it did in the novel.
But Amon wasn't their ally or their friend. He stood on the opposite side. Because no one influenced his actions or guided his growth, he developed on his own, becoming a unique individual shaped by his mistakes, experience, pain, joy, and ambition.
Because of that, he acted independently, disregarding the story and altering events so drastically that the plot of Shadow Slave was practically destroyed. As a result, Gunlaug, Caster, and Harus survived. The Crimson Spire became a functioning citadel, Moirai was built, and much more followed, all of it positive change.
"Haaaaa…" He sighed, biting his nail in frustration. Where did his disdain for Sunny and Nephis come from? It was too sudden. He should have noticed it earlier. And why was it that the moment he defeated them and events began moving in a completely different direction, that hatred simply vanished?
It was as if someone wanted him to fight them.
Like right now, when he intended to kill Ki Song.
As if his actions were being influenced by...!
A beautiful plume gently swayed in the air, ethereal and transparent, falling onto Amon's head and dissolving as if it had never existed.
Instantly, Amon snapped out of his thoughts, blinking in confusion. His eyes turned glassy and unfocused as he murmured, almost in a trance.
"Meh… it's not that deep. I'm just overthinking it."
***********************
Omake title: Princess and Homeless Dude
Gunlaug and the government agent named Lily were sitting on the grass in the west near the forest of Moirai, staring into the distance at the calm dark sea.
The air was filled with unspoken words and feelings.
Ughhh, what should I do? It is a bit awkward and he's so handsome...
Hmm... Mr. Clab definitely wins this time.
"Uhmm, Gunlaug, look. Those trees are so big and beautiful…" she said with dreamy eyes, trying to act endearing and melt the ice as well.
In the next moment, a giant iron axe appeared and cut down the trees.
Lily froze, her lips twitching in disbelief as she laughed awkwardly. "Hahaha… they might need wood…"
Calm down... You can do this, Lily. She encouraged herself and nudged him, pointing at the sky. "Look, that cloud looks like a rocket. How amazing. Oh, there are birds here too, aww."
But alas, in the next moment, birds gathered around the fields, circling over a harmless scarecrow. In truth, those birds were spire messengers, and then they all started falling as if they had forgotten how to fly. The only thing that was heard was the insidious screams of the beasts, until nothing remained but silence and new scarecrows in the field.
At the same time, some of the clouds instantly vanished, as if someone was deliberately removing them, until all that remained was the shape of...
"Hahahaha... That cloud looks like a penis," a certain red haired and somewhat misogynistic man said with a loud laugh.
"Can't you leave us alone!" Lily shouted at him in anger after hearing Medici's voice. They worked together, so of course she knew what kind of arrogant asshole he was.
"My bad, Potter. Oh, where did you lose Harry?" Medici said with a smirk, raising his arms in surrender.
What does that even mean!? Lily huffed, crossing her arms in irritation.
"Dad!?" A loud exclamation made Lily flinch, her eyes widening.
Uhmm... What now?
"What are you doing here? I thought you went out for milk. I waited for you for fifteen damned years! Yet here you are, shagging some hoes and leaving me and mom alone! How could you!? As if naming me Ah Chu wasn't enough!" Ah Chu shouted, tears streaming down his face, his fists clenched.
Oh… Lily froze, her expression filled with shame, embarrassment, and terror as she quickly stood up.
"I think I have to take..." Her voice was cut off by the snoozing sound coming from Gunlaug. Lily was mortified; she was humiliated and angry, standing still and motionless.
The best thing she could think of doing was slapping Gunlaug awake and running away, tears filling her eyes as she sprinted off without looking back.
"Ha!? Hu!? What happened?!" Gunlaug jumped from the grass, summoning his armor in wariness. Then he scratched the back of his head in confusion, tilting his head. "Where's that girl? Hmm… Meh, at least I've got this." He grinned, taking his wallet out of his pocket. "Mr. Crabs won't betray me today."
"Dadd… Ahem, Mr. Gunlaug!" A tentative yet lively voice came from behind. Gunlaug frowned and glanced back, seeing a young, innocent-looking girl staring at him with adoration. Honestly, Gunlaug was disturbed, she reminded him of Nephis's fangirls.
Not to mention, his rascal son and two other idiots had disappeared too…
Shit, I spoke too soon... he thought grimly, hearing romantic music a few meters away and hushed voices coming from the tall field of grass.
"From the first time we met…"
"Turn down the volume, I can't hear what they're saying, dude."
Hel, despite hearing this, continued as if they didn't exist. "You've made me the freakiest woman in the world, and I like it."
"The fuck do you think I'm doing!? Gimme a moment!" Another shout was heard, as if a fight was about to start.
"I've got it, gang! It's fine!" Another voice answered.
Hel's expression tightened, but she decided to finish expressing her feelings for Gunlaug. "So thank you, Mr. Gunlaug… and I love-"
[...I mean, how do you actually do it? Don't you get nervous? What do girls like while doing it? And also, is it better if the size is too big or just normal? I know small isn't...]
And there was silence... A wind caressing the tall grass field...
"You said you deleted it!"
"I forgot, man! But I promise, I was planning to. Just trust!"
Behind Hel and Gunlaug, giant fireball descended, exploding upon impact, at the same time, stream of water rushed out, followed by lighting, fusing two elements while a Insidious green gas started spreading out, curling up in the air.
Meanwhile, Hel went deathly pale, her eyes tearing up as she looked down in embarrassment.
"Haaaa… don't worry about those idiots." Gunlaug shook his head with an amused smile.
Sensing that he didn't mind, Hel looked up hopefully, but her hopes shattered instantly as Gunlaug asked with a wide smile.
"So, who are you again? Did they hire you to play this prank? Heh, they do this all the time."
Waahh! Sister, those guys are totally unreliable! Hel started crying, running away and leaving Gunlaug behind.
"What the hell? Two women run away from me today… something's wrong…" he thought, his expression conflicted. Then he grinned, an enlightened look appearing on his face. "After so much misfortune, my luck will definitely improve… Heh, Mr. Crabs definitely wins today."
He laughed to himself, walking toward the entertainment district where scavengers raced while his son, boss, and friend were fighting and burning the fields… well, thhey fucked up. Kido ain't letting that shit slide.
The end...
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