I was in Seclusion for so long that everyone forgot about me

The carriage wheels bumped and shook beneath us, making the ride a rather unenjoyable experience. I should have guessed as much when I saw how old it looked compared to the other one. But it hadn’t occurred to me that the suspension would differ so greatly. Nor did it occur to me that Deidre would procure something like this. One of the first things I would do was raise the standards of any carriage meant for my use.

…at least the interior was quite comfy.

“Remind me to give that succubus a punch in the gut later,” grumbled Aska, equally pissed with our traveling accommodation.

I nodded faintly and turned my attention outwards. The streets of the Noble District were less crowded, yet still bustling—servants, merchants, knights, adventurers, and others just high enough up the chain to be seen. Nobles were promenading and sauntering, some even loitering as if they were waiting for a chance to take offense.

I took a mental step back to sauntering, or rather, the art of it. It might resemble the other two, yet its philosophy was different. You were a silent spectator without purpose; you didn’t walk to reach somewhere, because you were always where you needed to be. Walking was not the tool, it was the goal, the purpose. You were out to taste the world, to feel it, to drift with the flow and see where it would take you. You were not the wind, but the leaf caught in it. The path was no longer a means to an end, but the end itself. With each step, the world would reveal itself in fragments, and each fragment was enough.

In sauntering there was no striving, no ambition, only a quiet surrender that masqueraded as freedom.

Or so one might think. The truth was crueler: only the powerful and the noble could indulge in such luxury. For whom has ever been truly free of obligations?

Even I was not. Self-made as they might have been, my obligations remained real.

I sighed. Was I contradicting myself?

—I shook my head. No, not really. But it wasn’t the whole truth either. There was always something left unsaid. The fervid would insist that sauntering wasn’t just about having the time for it—it demanded the right state of mind as well. The ability to free oneself for a transient infinity, however brief, and not chain the moment down. To taste the world for what it was at that instant, to accept the fragment as enough. To willingly forget the obligations, not because they ceased to exist, but because you chose not to carry them for a while.

I, could not.

And still, when I thought of my own inability, I expected anger at this realization, my own shackles. Yet there was nothing—only hollowness, a faint echo of a void. Perhaps this nothing had always been there, unremarkable, simply... waiting, lingering. Familiar, in its way, but... did it always feel so... suffocating?

As my mind wondered, it wandered; eyes gazing. They lingered on the expressions people wore, the subtle changes in their faces, their demeanor, their clothes. I watched how the rhythm shifted when we left the Royal District, how the noble affectations hardened into sterner more hardened looks, how posture and pace grew sharper, hurried, steeled by the weight the way of life.

So much bustling. So much striving.

So many souls pressing forward in endless motion.

So.

Many.

Ants.

Just a flicker of thought, and the street filled with rotting corpses. What expressions would they wear in the face of inescapable doom? Would they hold their loved ones in their last moments? Flee and panic, trampling others in vain attempts to save themselves, even if there wasn’t a way?

I had never paused to watch or take a closer look when I slaughtered the masses. They seemed so… irrelevant. Was that wrong?

Arguably.

But who really cared for the pests in their garden?

I closed the curtains. The sight had grown dull. When I turned back to Aska, something lingered in her eyes. Disgust or Worry? I could not tell.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The rest of the ride was done in silence, much to my regret. But I couldn’t blame her either, I knew how Aska loathed those kinds of thoughts. I had to admit that it worried me. The thought of her leaving me when the bond would be eventually broken was… unpleasant.

As the carriage finally came to rest before the Church, the door opened shortly after and we stepped out. Many people looked at us, mostly adventurers that were actually queuing outside. All of them mumbled and hushed words—by now word must have spread that a Matriarch was in the capital, much to my satisfaction. Because now, we could simply walk past them without anyone daring to stop us.

That was at least the plan.

“Halt!”

We turned to face a squad of paladins, their holy sigils—obviously belonging to the Church of Light—burning with divine annoyance, eyes fixated on us with the fanaticism of executioners. They wore full plate armor, helmets adorned with a golden-like crista that swept from top to back, reminding me of a manticore’s mane. Each of them carried a massive Zweihänder forged from a metal I did not recognize (which, honestly, surprised me). Their handles, made from the same dark wood I had seen in the auction hall, bore ring-grips fashioned in the shape of their sigils, a sapphire embedded in the center. From there followed the ricasso and the traditional parrying hooks. I had to admit the swords were beautifully crafted and might even hurt Aska to an extent. Otherwise? Little more than decoration.

I could feel the tension in their souls, taut like strings pulled to snapping, yet at the same time they projected sheer hostility, raw and unhinged. They knew who I was—well, or at least which face I wore—and yet no fear emitted from them. Typical zealots. And their intent did not take long to reveal itself.

“By authority of the Metropolitan, you are under arrest for consorting with a demon, complicit in the murder of Lord Elmaris, and engaging in illicit trafficking,” announced the leading paladin my crimes.

‘They knew I wanted to meet Alicia, and they staged this to stir a commotion and tarnish my image. Clever. They also know I’m tamer than my ‘peers’, expecting me to follow quietly, like a lamb. To them I’m a pushover, my power nothing more than a demon’s gift, on borrowed time’ I said, amused, to Asche through our link.

‘Do you want to create a fuss? Aska smirked.

‘Let’s see~’, I replied and proclaimed, “What evidence do you hold, church-dweller?”

“The statements of countless witnesses,” the paladin bellowed, “that your elemental acted on your command to assist demons, and that the mansion you illegally occupy was seized by those same demons through force!”

The other paladins formed a semicircle, their pressure closing in like a firm grip, a calculated maneuver meant to try to control our every move. The adventurers and onlookers stared in disbelief, their murmurs rising, some stepping back quickly, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

I smiled coldly. “And?”

The crowd stilled. I had not admitted anything, nor denied—but the weight of that one word was enough. It carried disdain, dismissal, and a power that told them plainly I was not bothered, not cowed, not frightened.

The paladins readied their weapons and their leader barked, “Submit to the sealing cuffs and come peacefully. Otherwise, we cannot promise you will come with your flesh whole!”

Mhrm, sealing cuffs. Tempting. I kinda wanted to see how well they functioned. A chance to test them firsthand. But on the other hand—

“No.”

Their voices rose as—

“You have no jurisdiction here, Children of the Light,” thundered an all-engulfing voice. “These are my guests, and they stand upon the grounds of our church. Do you mean to challenge the gods?”

The zealots flinched at the last words, but the head paladin held his ground. “High Priestess Alicia, these are criminals! They conspired with demons and disrupted the peace of the capital. Surely you ca—”

“Your falsehoods have no place here, Herald of the Light.” Alicia’s reply cracked like judgment through the square. Her voice rang with courtesy, yes, but beneath it lay the weight of a vaster multi-layered holy energy. “I know what you are after, your Spiel. And I know you endanger the very citizens you have sworn to protect. The Matriarch has shown utmost restraint, enough not to turn everything here into ash. She is unrivaled here, Herald. Do not mistake her forbearance for weakness.”

Aska whistled in our bond. ‘Didn’t expect her to actually intervene. What a good little lamb.’

I scoffed. ‘Municipal politics wrapped within divine sullenness. This has nothing to do with us.’

‘The church of all against the church of human supremacy,’ deduced Aska.

I smiled, ‘What a witty remark.’

A toothy grin appeared on her face, ‘Even I can manage that from time to time~’

My eyes wandered back to the so-called Herald. I had no idea what that title signified, nor did I care. Also, the title amused me for a moment, because for such a grand title, its bearer acted unworthy of it. Or rather, it was the soul that betrayed him—fuming, unstable, bristling with fury. As did the others. They all burned with the same short fuse… a holy fuse. That thought got a giggle slip from my lips; hopefully it wouldn’t end in a holy grenade.

But, as it occurred, the paladins clearly did not share my mirth.

“You imbecile! You dare laugh in the face of our Goddess?! MAY THE LIG—”

“[Divine Disrupt],” Alicia intoned a spell and whatever the dogs of the metropolitan were doing, it stopped.

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t even believe my soul sight. Their divine threads still shone, but twisted, tangled, flickering in and out like frayed wires losing their charge. Patches dimmed, light sputtering, threads collapsing in on themselves. An elegant unweaving and a horrific debuff against the divine minions—it was crippling. Their zeal drained from them in an instant, and one by one they buckled, knees slamming into the cobblestones.

“You—!” the Herald stammered, spitting the word like venom.

“Do not force me further to take further actions,” Alicia warned in a sharp tone.

The paladins panted, cursed under their breath, armor rattling with their strain, but surprisingly, they obeyed. And I would lie if I said my regard for Alicia did not rise just then. Sure, there was still that divine seal coiled deep within her soul that basically begged to be pried open, pulled apart, dissected thread by thread until nothing remained unexamined. But this ability—this disruption, this countermeasure—it was devastating. Broken, even, against other that used divine magic. How had she done it? How did she turn divinity against itself? My fingers itched, restless, desperate to know. Couldn’t I just—

‘Please don’t…’, said Aska, shaking her head in vexed reproach.

I looked at her, gave her a small, apologetic look. ‘S-Sorry. Greed. I got too excited.’

To my surprise, even in my current state, I meant it. That was—

—Novel.

“Please, follow me,” Alicia said at last. The menace had faded from her voice, replaced once more with poise. “There are matters we must discuss. Matters you may not receive kindly. But they must be spoken.”

I nodded, and we followed her inside, ignoring the glares and disbelief thrown our way, as if they had just witnessed some unbelievable spectacle. Perhaps, to them, it was. Few ever saw a kerfuffle between high-ranking and influential figures; to their eyes, it must have been an entertaining display of power.

Still, I had thought Asche’s interference last night would tip the outcome further in our favour, but things had turned out differently. A faint tug at the corner of my lip surfaced as I considered who would handle the little diversion I’d arranged. I was certain Kazari would be ecstatic.

‘I really, really doubt that,’ added Aska, but I ignored her skepticism.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

We were in her private guestroom on the second floor, tucked away in the left-side aisle—an area reserved solely for the Saintess. As it turned out, Alicia also had private maids quartered a floor below with the guards. I hadn’t noticed before that the church held such spacious wings hidden at the sides, but given how the nave looked, perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised me.

What did, was that Alicia had closed the church to visitors until the afternoon, which seemed rather long to me. I had no idea what could take so long, but I already disliked it.

“Tea?” offered the High Priestess.

“Yes, please,” Aska replied quickly, her tail twitching slightly the moment the maids placed confections on the table. I rolled my eyes.

Alicia glanced at me, an eyebrow raised.

I shook my head. “I’m fine, thank you. I’d rather you come to the point instead of stalling.”

The maids bristled at my bluntness, their eyes narrowing with quiet disapproval. But Alicia lifted a hand, signaling them away. When the door closed, I felt how she cast a barrier around the room.

“I hope you are satisfied with this ward,” Alicia said smoothly. “My guards were rather unhappy last time, and I do not wish to worry anyone. Rest assured—no one will be able to listen in.”

“No one?” I raised a brow. “How about th—”

“Their direct presence, as of recently, is disrupted,” Alicia cut in. “My prayers have gone unanswered as well.” She suddenly tilted her head upward, folding her hands. “But this, too, is another trial of faith. By the divine, I will endure. By the divine, I will prove myself. By the divine—”

I tuned her out. Fanatical praise made me feel yucky. Aska gave me a worried look but said nothing. Not that she could, her mouth and thoughts were full of sweets. Moments like that made me wonder what Asche’s life might have been if she had been given the chance at something normal, a life far from the Jaegers’ machinations, in a family that loved her and treated her right. A tinge of guilt crept up from the depths, lingering like a shadow just around the corner, watching, judging, whispering that I was the reason the Jaegers existed in the first place. A sad smile brushed across my face at the flickering memory of a garden swing beneath a canopy, turned toward the earth and the rising sun. An idle day, dreamy and cold. Filled with a certain… dream.

But the more I drifted into it, the more my mind sank. Drowned. Alone, deep in endless waters. Weary. No sound. No movement. No one. My soul grew cold—colder than it had been in a long while. Maybe I sho—

“M-Maera!” Aska’s raspy shout tore me out of the hoarfrost my soul had become.

I snapped back, only to find her and Alicia both collapsed on all fours, gasping for air, faces twisted in pain. Every breath they took misted white, curling into the air. The room had turned frigid. Frost clung to the walls. Small blue-black crystals shimmered faintly, branching outward from where I sat.

“I-I would appreciate it if you wou—wouldn’t lose control of my power like that,” Asche breathed as she pushed herself up, unsteady.

“I… didn’t mean to,” I said honestly, shocked it had affected her at all. It shouldn’t have. It wasn’t supposed to. But ho—

“You’re overthinking again,” she interrupted another spiral softly, still catching her breath. A small, weary smile curved her lips. “But don’t worry. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you,” I answered. I expected some warmth to linger in the words, but there was none. Only cold.

If I hadn’t had soul vision, I might have missed it entirely—the tiny flash hidden behind her eyes. She was hurt. Yet instead of caring, I turned to Alicia. The only thing that mattered now was the information about the System I so urgently wanted.

It took a few moments before the High Priestess managed to regain her composure. She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t scold, didn’t even look concerned about what had just happened—the very picture of a holy proxy she ought to embody.

“Mrngh,” she murmured after sipping her tea. “It’s cold. A pity we don’t have more of it in stock.”

Thinking, I opened my storage and placed a box on the table. “For the inconveniences,” I offered.

Her face lit up. “What a generous donation!” She opened the box and wafted the scent towards her. “It smells wonderful! I am already excited to taste it!”

And for an instant, she looked like a child discovering a gift, so unguarded that it was almost alarming.

‘What taste is it?’ Aska asked curiously.

‘...don’t ask.’

‘You didn’t give her something poisonous, did you?’

‘That I did not. But for the taste—well, let’s say it is unique,’ I replied, trying to sound confident.

Alicia turned to Asche. “If you’d like more tea, I can have the maids brew a fresh kettle so we may enjoy it properly.”

The wolf-kin glanced at the box, then at me, then back to Alicia. “I—I’m good, thank you.”

“Alright then! So.” Alicia’s tone shifted as she folded her hands on the table. “I have bad news and good news regarding the information about the System you were seeking.”

“You didn’t get the information from the Cathedral Archives?” I figured.

She nodded. “You are correct, lost sheep. I made a personal inquiry to the Metropolitan himself, but as you may have already seen, the relationship between them and our Church is rather… let’s say strained. He couldn’t refuse me outright, of course, but when I went through the antiquarians, I noticed changes and gaps—evidence of tampering. Unfortunately, this kind of magic is not my forte, so there was no way for me to restore or fix anything. Which brings us to the bad news.”

“Wait—these weren’t the bad ones?!” yapped Aska.

Alicia laughed lightly. “Gosh, my dearie, no no. Why ever would you think that? The bad ones are that the only way to learn more is to descend into the depths of the Crypt of the Gods, and reach its library.”

“Crypt of the Gods?” I asked, skeptically.

“Indeed! And from your expressions, it seems neither of you know what I’m talking about. Our Church was built upon the very plot where the entrance to the Crypt is located, sealing the constant miasma it leaks. The structure is estimated older even than the temple in the heart of King’s Garden,” Alicia explained whilst I simply stared at her.

I had no idea the crypt existed, or that it was this close. Older than my temple? That was… concerning. The only possibility was that I’d made myself forget it. But why? And why hadn’t the System forced the memory up? Unless...

“Why exactly is it called the Crypt of the Gods?” I asked, trying to confirm my suspicion.

“Because of the countless dead deities that were buried inside, of course,” Alicia answered gravely. “Casualties of the first war against Eternal’s minions. Olden gods who fought until the end. In their honor, the Crypt was built. But their neverending grudge twisted their rest when the Divine came, and turned the crypt into a dungeon—its halls crawling with the undead of highest rank.”

Her words carried a cadence almost liturgical, as though she repeated sacred lore rather than mere information.

“Every so often our Church descends to the ninth floor,” she continued, “to cull the overpopulation to stop a potential dungeon break and cleanse the miasma our holy ground fails to contain. Deeper floors exist, but to enter those would be suicide without a demi-god at our side. Or, in our fortunate case, a Matriarch.”

“If it is so dangerous, why hasn’t it been destroyed already?” wondered Aska, who seemed to share my question.

“Because even demi-gods have limits. Something dwells deeper, warding the heart of the Crypt. It does not leave nor does it seek battle, but it doesn’t permit its destruction either. Eventually, it had become the perfect training ground for paladins and a proving field for powerful entities seeking to test themselves. The library, at least, rests luckily only within demi-god depths.”

“Luckily, she says,” mumbled Asche.

To be honest, I found it more convenient than alarming. Dungeons were a concept I was aware about, though not since the blasted Divine polluted this world. I had no measure for how strong a System-bound dungeon would be. If nothing else, it would make a fine experiment—an opportunity to test how well my magic held against inside structures like those. The knowledge within was simply the cherry on the top.

“So, what are we waiting for?” I asked.

Alicia’s face brightened and she clapped her hands together. “My, how wonderful that our lost lamb is so eager! I am certain the Divine will watch over us and grant us safe passage without any problem at all!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Absolutely not!” reprimanded the leader of her private guards. “We cannot allow you to descend into the Crypt with such meagre protection as we have now, much less accompanied only by a Matriarch and her familiar.”

“Dear Olaf,” the High Priestess said calmly, “they are capable enough. And this is nothing more than a trial I must pass. The Matriarch is powerful enough to handle what awaits. Haven’t you heard the rum—”

“With respect, Saintess.” Olaf cut her off, his voice steady but sharp. “I have indeed heard much of these two—their reputation spreads faster than miasma, and I do not dismiss it. But my oath is to your safety, not to rumors of supposed strength. Until I can confirm with my own eyes that you will walk out unscathed, I cannot be convinced.”

I sighed inwardly; guess it was my time to intervene. “What would it take for you to allow Alicia to lead us to the library?” I asked. I didn’t even bother to ask them if we could go by ourselves; the answer would have been an obvious refusal.

“A skilled platoon of high-ranked adventurers filled with paladins and monks, powerful enough to cut through the undead and give us back-up,” replied Olaf at once.

I shook my head. “If it takes such numbers, then I am more than powerful enough by myself. They would only hinder me.”

“Excuse my rudeness, Matriarch,” he said carefully, “but as far as I know you wield no holy attribute. And our Lady may be blessed, but she is no warrior. If she were harmed—if she were lost—” He faltered for a moment, revealing his deep care for Alicia. “It would not matter how many undead you struck down or actually destroy the Crypt, for the damage would already be beyond repair.”

Yeah, there was no way I could sway him with words alone. But what if… Without much though, I opened my storage and rummaged until my hand closed on a pale-pink crystal. I tossed it towards Alicia. She fumbled, nearly dropping it as it bounced hands a few times, until she finally caught it firm.

“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing it.

“A magnitude crystal, of course,” I replied flatly, yet everyone—even Aska—kept staring at in a way which made it quite obvious that my perfect explanation wasn’t as I thought it had been.

“It is a crystal normally used to build Guardian Golems, acting as their core,” I clarified. “It is filled to the brink with potent mana. But the best part is that this nice little crystal mimics the mana-nature of its holder. In the High Priestess’s case—divine energy. It can enhance and amplify her spells. This should keep us safe enough, even if the venture deeper into the dungeon. As for this crystal, I might consider calling it a donation to the Church, you know, for the trouble.”

Debates broke out among the paladins, priests, and mages, who were unsure what to make out of my gift. Alicia, however, inspected the crystal, pouring in a tinge of mana before withdrawing more than she had put in. Her eyes widened, and with finality in her voice, she announced loudly:

“We accept,”

“But Saint—”

“Silence! I have assessed this crystal myself, and whatever risks remain, they are worth it. With my authority as High Priestess and Saintess, I order you: open the gates to the Crypt. I will go down with the Matriarch and her familiar. No one else. This has become a matter of utmost importance.”

Olaf lowered his head, fists clenched. For a heartbeat I almost admired him—caught between his oath and his Lady’s will. His voice came low, responding to her ruling whilst looking at me with disdain, “As you command, Saintess.”

“To your will!” the rest echoed in unison.

Huh. She ordered them so easily. Why did it feel as though I had been played…

‘Because you were. Like a fiddle,’ Aska chuckled through the link, barely containing her laughter.

‘Ah, I see. By the way, no more sweets for you for the rest of the week,’ I shot back, moving away from her.

I only heard her collapsing to her knees in despair, servants rushing to her side, fretting over her condition. She gave no answer. A simple lesson: never bite the hand that feeds~.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As we went down the first steps of the crypt, Alicia hummed with sheer happiness. It kinda pissed me off, but murdering the High Priestess was, unfortunately, not an option. Perhaps just an arm?

“Stop it, will you?” mumbled Asche, refusing to use the link. I wondered why.

I hated to admit it, but she was right. My arrogance had taken the better of me, or more like my stubbornness to still abide by the rules.

‘Remind me, why am I listening to you again?’ I asked through the bond.

“Our pact. If you don’t, I’ll make that necklace useless,” she replied in voice, loud enough that Alicia glanced back.

“What was that?” the priestess asked.

“Nothing…” I evaded, totally smoothly. “How long will this descent take?”

“An hour or two. Thankfully, most floors were cleansed recently, so we shouldn’t encounter any undead until the deeper levels. After that, it depends on how quickly we cleanse the monsters,” she explained brightly.

Her happy demeanor irked me further. For her, this was pilgrimage. For me, inconvenience. For Asche— ...there she was, calmly nibbling on dried fruits like it was nothing. Could she be any more infuriating? Where in the void did she stash all that food in the first place?! I sighed and turned my head back to the priestess, wondering if she believed her own happy-go-lucky attitude that made her walk into a dungeon like it was as a simple stroll to the market. That naivety in divine goodwill tempted me to test how fast it would break, but Aska’s quiet clearing of her throat brought my contemplations to a halt, so we kept going.

Even though I called them steps, they were more like a layered ramp that sloped downward, broad enough for three people to walk side by side without trouble and rising at least four meters tall. On both sides, torches hung burning with a ghastly blue—'Never-ending Flames’, they were called. They were spellbound to one location, drawing on ambient mana, but posed no danger. Not hot, only cold light fueled by very, very old magic. I briefly wondered what Prometheus’s face might have looked like had Zeus swapped fire for a Never-ending Flame. Now that would have been a sight to behold.

Anyway, as far as the crypt went—whoever decided to call it that, since it was clearly a mausoleum (or did they somehow count it all as a single chamber?)—it was, again, rather typical. Stone caskets with names carved and half-worn by time lined both sides, set into smaller alcoves, with urns and narrow pathways leading off into deeper chambers. Some were sealed by an erratic boulder or collapsed into rubble; as for why, one could only guess. It was all too easy to imagine this place teeming with undead. Dust and bonemeal lay thick in corners where the flames did not reach. The air was dry, almost too dry for a structure like this, carrying only the faint iron tang of old incense and decay—how peculiar.

“Besides leveling here, what else does a place like this provide? Items? Treasures?”

“Mhm, that’s good question,” Alicia replied. “Depending on the undead, one might find mana-crystals, scrolls or even rare items. Once, we discovered a spatial pocket—small, but able to hold a great deal without much weight. Oh, there are teleportation scrolls, too, but those are utterly useless near the capital, of course. Valuable elsewhere, though.

“And treasures? I’m sure dungeons would have some of those too,” Aska went on.

“Ooh, another good questions! Yes and no. Dungeons are weird places. Some appear naturally, others are built, some—like this—are remnants. Because of that, only the monsters carry loot, unless treasures were already stored inside. Some dungeons lure with riches, but those are usually the work of a dungeon master. Natural dungeons can also hold treasures, though these are mostly rare materials or veins.

“So what does a dungeon master gain?” I asked.

“Ah, there’s no single answer.” Alicia spread her hands. “Some draw strange powers, others build armies underground, living out fantasies of dominion and conquest. Many simply hoard strength—or seek longevity, since dungeon masters do not age. But there are stranger cases still, where everything exists in a more symbiotic balance.

“How so?” I pressed.

“Quecklemheim in the north,” Alicia explained eagerly. “The most famous dungeon-city on this side of the continent. It may lack a master, but neither does it slaughter those who enter. It feeds on the mana spilled in battle and the excess seeping from the residents themselves. In return, it births lush forests, minerals, food, even treasures—an entire ecology. Over centuries, a city grew within and became a flourishing trading hub-town. The first time I was there I actually forgot that I was inside of a dungeon. A truly marvelous place.

“Interesting,” I murmured. A dungeon as a living organism, a totally new ecosystem. The thought was grotesque, but fascinating. Aska’s eyes shone, seemingly sharing my intrigue. For one who thrived in battle as she did, trudging through empty halls like these must have been utter ennui.

The first floor was, contrary to what I had thought, not particularly large, and we soon reached the entrance to the second. It resembled the entry of the first floor, except that it spiraled downward in a circle. After a while, we arrived at the exit of the staircase and—

“Woah!” Asche exclaimed as we emerged.

Her awe was justified. We stepped onto a bridge spanning a vast abyss. The central staircase, a colossal pillar, plunging downwards without end, its sides carved with smaller stairs and alcoves, leading to bridges that sprouted like wild undergrowth, connecting pillar to the outer walls of this circular structure, but more than often lead into dead-ends and spirals that were all eerily illumined by countless blue torches like the areas before. Every ledge bristled with an unholy number of urns, caskets and sarcophagi, stacked like shelves, hurriedly and uneven. Statues slouched, eyeless, arms shattered, offerings long rotted at their feet. Splintered tables lay scattered, grave goods dulled to scrap. The, what appeared to be the main bridges, sagged under the weight of centuries, many railings gnawed by time. Some even had collapsed entirely, their leftovers dangling like broken ribs. And the sound—it was silence, but not hollow silence. It was silence stretched taut, as if the depths itself held its breath, only to never be released, like the dead ruin it was. The deeper it went, the more the abyss drank the scarce light whole, a pit that accepted no end, that knew it was built to hold the inescapable.

“It really is one chamber,” I muttered and had to admit it held up to its name. It truly was—A Crypt of the Gods.

“And now imagine it full of undead,” Asche said. “It’s even larger than the ziggurat.”

“But not as dangerous, I think. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have sealed it if they could handle something like this.”

The wolf-kin nodded. Alicia, however, spun to eye us curiously.

“You’ve been to the ziggurat? Isn’t it supposed to be closed off?” she inquired, intrigued.

“Um, yeah. We’ve met paladins of the Inquisition there. They were investigating it before we left,” I explained.

“So that’s where they went,” said Alicia, her voice growing suspicious. “And here I was wondering why they left so suddenly. Meeting Marika and a Matriarch probably sped up their plans to leave the capital,” she said. “Well, that and the wendigos. I doubt they wanted to stay and listen to the church’s excuses—how the seal broke so easily, how it wasn’t their fault. They’ve been on high alert since the earthquake, publicly blaming us for mismanaging the Crypt, their so-called ‘pretend perpetrator’, and dodging any real culpability. But it’s obvious the fault lies with the temple at the city’s heart, their jurisdiction. They keep denying it, of course, trying to make us their scapegoat. So our relationship with them is rather… strained, of late. And with the news of destroyed and pillaged villages that wer—”

Suddenly, she halted her small monologue, her voice uncharacteristically tinged with disdain, and looked left and right.

“Something wrong?” Aska asked.

“I forgot which path we have to go. I need a moment… ”

“What floor before we encounter undead?” I asked.

“Well, we cleansed up to the ninth flo—”

I didn’t give her time to answer before I flicked my finger.

Instantly, the space around us distorted. In between her breaths, we stood on the bridge marking the end of the ninth floor, hundreds of meters below the place we just had been standing.

Unsurprisingly, she vomited from the sudden teleportation. I had to admit it was crude, but better than walking the whole stretch. She clung to the railing as she retched, then turned towards me, her face pale with fear and disbelief. Her eyes filled with grim realization and horror.

“You are no trial from the gods,” she spat.

My jaw stretched unnaturally wide in a sharp, mouth-splitting grin, as I answered,

“No, little saintess. I. AM. NOT.”