Game World's Awakening

Although surprised by the immense amount of energy attributes here, he stopped paying attention to this after a while and focused on reaching the end of the stairs. They seemed endless, but after several minutes of walking steadily, he reached the end.

Stunned, he looked to either side of the enormous room he had arrived at.

Well, more than a room, it was a huge hall with many things in it.

Numerous statues on strange altars stood out. Many of these statues were grandiose. They seemed to have an immortal aura about them and exuded power. They were made of an exclusive mineral, the name of which was unknown.

They were not painted, as they did not need to be. This mineral was white in itself, which allowed the statues to be white with some blue stripes on their bodies, where blood flowed. Possibly the same blood he had seen before, as if they were veins.

On the altars where they stood, there were many large candles. All of them were lit, but none of them were burning down.

It was magical, but after watching them for about five minutes, he concluded that they weren’t burning down. They were permanent.

But those weren’t the only statues that existed here.

On either side of them, also on altars, there were many statues made of low-grade minerals. He could recognize these minerals: quartz, some gold, and other minor things.

And beneath these statues, the candles did burn down.

These final statues did not reflect any grandeur. Rather, they seemed to reflect misery and damnation.

Even so, they were there. The lit candles were burning down and would surely need to be replaced in a few hours.

He frowned and walked toward the statues.

The grand statues closely resembled the large statue at the entrance, but the others...

"Why do I feel like I know some of them?" he thought.

He began to study the faces slowly and tried to memorize those that were familiar to him.

His eyes suddenly widened, and he looked at one of them.

"These are... statues of my ancestors? This is Grandfather... Great-grandfather... Lord Feel Boy and Mountain Rock..." He was in shock.

One of those statues...

It was Alexander Clark!

What the hell was going on here?

Why would there suddenly be statues of people from his clan on altars? Why did they have candles?

He looked at the altars, searching for something written that might tell him, but it only said the names.

He could understand the names of the statues he recognized, but had no idea about the more majestic ones. They were in a language completely unknown to him.

They looked like runes, but they weren’t runes.

He frowned and looked around.

There were many books here, too. Desks, wine...

A variety of strange things that he didn’t understand why the hell they were here.

But he approached to read the books.

"I don’t understand them..." Looking at the ones scattered on the floor, many were in strange languages.

But looking at the ones near the desk, he found...

’Translations? I see. They’re translations of these books.’ he thought.

Then he began to read.

"They’re techniques, stories from the past, curses, etc. Skills that no one understands, and also... Worship of our Clark Gods."

A voice suddenly emerged behind him, startling him. He took several steps forward and drew his adamantium sword. Without thinking, he summoned all his summons and aimed behind him.

There was a figure there.

But it was...

Ethereal.

"A ghost?"

He looked like an old veteran of a thousand battles, extremely ancient. He had a bald head and a long, white beard, but everything seemed to be invisible, ethereal.

The old man stared at him before nodding.

"You could say that. I prefer to call myself Ethereal Illusion of the Soul Remnant." He moved slightly closer to him and touched the sword.

"What a fine weapon you have. I can see the forging of those mad Nurotaurs in it. Are you in contact with any of them?" he asked, studying it.

The sword couldn’t hurt him, but Elliot didn’t put it away. He was cautious and didn’t answer.

That made the old man look at him. "Don’t worry, I won’t eat you or anything. Look over there, I’m that old man over there," he said.

He looked systematically at where the ghostly old man was pointing—one of the majestic statues.

It was identical to him in a certain sense—Bald, with a large beard and an aura of ancient dignity.

Elliot frowned and looked at him again.

"What is this place?" he asked, frowning without letting his guard down.

"I believe questions should be answered in the order they were asked, in a questioning of equals," replied the old man.

"Do you think you’re my equal?"

"Well, I can’t hurt you, and you can’t hurt me. In a sense, we’re equal. But in terms of information and what I once was, you’re not even a fly compared to me. You should feel honored, you spoiled boy, that I call you my equal," the old man complained.

Elliot frowned and nodded.

For a moment, he had lost his temper. He felt like he was on top of the world for no reason, making him speak arrogantly.

But he quickly nodded.

"I apologize," he said sincerely. Then he looked at his sword, remembering the old man’s question. "I met a Nurotaur recently. I defeated him in a duel, and he gave me this sword as a prize."

"You defeated a Nurotauro?" The old man looked at him, shocked from head to toe. "How can you be so arrogant as to say that? It’s impossible for you to defeat one with your strength!"

"Haha..." Elliot laughed embarrassedly. "I know. I didn’t do it alone, my girlfriend was with me, and it wasn’t a contest of strength. He was very limited, and we had the advantage of strategy."

"Even so, it’s almost impossible for such a thing to happen with your current power..." He had to smile, forced by the occasion. "If it’s true, you can brag about that for the rest of your life. Well done, kid." Despite saying that, he lost interest as soon as he finished speaking and turned away.

"Do you know the Nurotaurs, sir?"

"Of course. We were great friends in the war."

"War?"

"Yes. The war against..." The ghost suddenly fell silent. "Well, in a war," he concluded.

Although Elliot knew something was strange, he didn’t ask about it.

And also because the old ghost spoke again.

"The only difference is that they had guts and we... well." He mocked himself, looking at the statues there. "We ended up as trash statues. Our legacy is dead and a whole history destroyed."

"Who are you?" Elliot asked. He had said words like "we" several times in a slightly strange way.

He looked at him again. "We. Clarks."

"Clarks? My family?"

The old man fell silent after receiving that answer. After thinking for a few seconds, he mocked himself.

"Heh. No. I mean us. You’re just a cursed family that dared to steal our name and use it as your surname. Tsk, what idiots."

’Cursed family? Steal a surname?’

He had no idea about that. His father hadn’t told him anything about it, but he frowned.

"And what is a Clark, according to you? What do you mean by cursed family?" he asked carefully.

He then turned to look at him.

"Tsk, cursed family. But hey, it’s not your fault, so I can tell you."

"Do you see this castle, boy?" he asked. "It wasn’t always so horrible. It’s because of you that it’s now just a stupid long hallway and a stupid giant staircase with a single hall."

"But in the past, this was the most glorious castle our Little Giant had ever set foot in. The Clark Castle."

"But you..." He frowned, and his anger grew as he looked at several trashy statues nearby, spoiling his view. "You dared to put shitty statues in this sacred place and worship them as gods, when they are merely humans. Our Castle is life. He reacted to such disrespect and lost his original form. Now, he is furious. He is crying out for blood and blood, because of a stupid cursed family."

"That’s what you did, staining Clark Castle like that. That’s why you’ve been cursed. You will never be able to progress, and one day you will die permanently, losing all your blood for eternity."

Elliot was stunned from the start. When he heard the name "Little Giant," he knew these guys probably came from that "Lost Age" Nurotaur had told him about a few months ago.

What he said next was confusing, but he could understand it.

Thɪs chapter is updated by NovᴇlFirᴇ(.)nᴇt

When he first entered, he felt that this was a sacred place, but one that was difficult to describe. However, the moment he saw the statues of his ancestors, he felt that this sacred place had been defiled.

But who would have thought they were here, because those bastards were thinking they were gods?

He looked at the books beside him and frowned.

There must be information here about everything they discovered to do something like this.

But the curse...

"What is the curse?" he asked, puzzled. After recalling the hatred that old man seemed to feel toward the Clarks, he spoke again to emphasize one thing.

"Although I have Clark blood, I no longer belong to the family. I swore revenge when they killed my family. I’m here because I want to find out what happened to my father. But eventually, I will destroy the Clarks. That’s why I would like information about this family; perhaps it will be useful to me."