Chapter 42 : 𝚅𝚎𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚅𝚘𝚒𝚍

Alfira, for her part, notices nothing unusual, always displaying her carefree smile.

Before us, a dense crowd fills the street facing the dungeon. Villagers from Pienat, no doubt, but also a large number of adventurers and nobles, recognizable by their luxurious outfits and visible coats of arms. The place, once peaceful, is now a buzzing hive of activity.

“Why are there so many people?!” Elvaria repeats, this time with a voice a bit more trembling.

I raise my eyes to scrutinize the crowd. It’s clear that something grand is about to happen.

-Deselection of the Will of the World functions: too great danger, risk of annihilation.

Suddenly, a voice resonates in my head. It doesn’t seem to reach only me, but also Valentin, Elvaria, and Alfira. The crowd before us stares at us, their eyes fixed in a strange persistence, as if something within us eludes them.

“Too bad, let’s leave for now, Quick Step!” I shout, an urgent gleam in my voice. Yet, nothing happens. My skill remains desperately inactive.

“Aley… I can’t feel my magic anymore…” murmurs Elvie, her eyes searching mine, as if looking for an explanation.

“Me neither,” adds Valentin, his voice filled with confusion, his gaze sweeping the surroundings, lost, as if trying to find an escape from this nightmare.

Alfira, on the other hand, says nothing. Her whole body trembles. Her gaze is clouded by a terror I have never seen in her. Her power, Gifts of the King, has always been a force within her, constant, reassuring. If she has lost the ability to use it, she must feel helpless for the first time. A new weakness ravages her, depriving her of the confidence that has always shaped her life.

What the hell is happening?!

One of the villagers then steps forward, emerging from the compact and silent mass as if he were rising from a mysterious mist. He is an old man, his wrinkled face marked by time, and a wide straw hat shades his gaze. He seems almost to belong to another world, detached from the situation, but fear pierces through his wavering voice.

“T-this morning, a child who came to water the flowers here noticed that the d-dungeon door was open... Y-you just conquered it…?”

Elvie steps forward confidently, placing a firm fist on her chest, like a shield of conviction. “Indeed, Novus Obris has just conquered this dungeon!” she proclaims proudly. Her words scatter into the air, but a strange feeling lingers. Our magic is inactive, extinguished like a flame blown out by an invisible wind. Could there be a connection with these villagers? Is this a trap closing in on us?

“Who among you seeks to trap us?!” I roar, my voice exploding like thunder in the calm air. My eyes, full of anger, scour the crowd as I draw my sword, the steel gleaming in the dim light.

To my surprise, the villagers recoil, seized by panic. Even the adventurers surrounding us tense up, frightened. I hear their whispers, frail and anxious.

“Why is a member of Novus Obris threatening us? We haven’t done anything to him…” murmurs an adventurer to his comrade, his trembling hands as cold sweat slides down his forehead.

“I had heard they were good people…” whispers a villager to her daughter before retreating, her eyes full of doubt, fleeing the scene.

Valentin then raises his hand in a soothing gesture, his face lighting up with a kind smile. “Forgive my comrade, Aley is on edge. Something strange just happened to us.” His words calm the crowd, dissipating the tension that had weighed upon us like a heavy and threatening cloud.

Elvie, seizing this opening, speaks next: “We offer you access to the dungeon. You will be able to exploit it to expand your resources! We encountered no monsters on the first and second floors, but be cautious!” Her tone is that of serene authority, but her eyes remain vigilant.

Alfira, still in the grip of her fear, forces herself to speak, her voice trembling but imbued with unshakeable authority: “We reserve the right to use the third floor. As the princess of Iveralmn, this is a royal order that cannot be contested.”

The villagers nod, relieved. “Very well! This will help us a lot,” they respond with smiles full of hope. Their faces light up, perhaps with the promise of a more prosperous future, while the adventurers themselves seem revitalized by the new prospect of quests and riches.

As the crowd disperses, Valentin turns to me, his face grave, despite the calm that has returned. “Aley, now that they’ve left, let’s talk about the main issue.”

“Yes, we… can no longer use our skills,” Elvie adds hesitantly, a troubling shadow veiling her gaze.

Alfira is still frozen in a corner, shaken by fear. I step toward her and extend my hand, a reassuring smile on my lips. She hesitates for a moment, then grasps my hand with fragile softness. I help her up, and her smile, though weak, manages to warm the air around us.

I murmur, my thoughts wandering into unknown territories: “Could the Will of the World have become afraid of something?” This voice had warned us of danger, but what?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Aley… In the books of the royal library, it is said that the Will of the World granted magic to all things, even to the gods, so…” Alfira begins, her voice wavering, as if she is struggling to articulate a truth greater than herself.

“…So nothing is supposed to be more powerful than the Will of the World,” I finish in a whisper. This feeling… This strangeness, so familiar yet terrifying… What was Aleystria afraid of? Each second obsesses me more and more, and this obsession devours me. Ever since I reached the depths of this dungeon, an insatiable ambition burns within me, igniting an uncontrollable desire to know everything, to confront everything, to understand everything.

“Aley… why are you smiling?” asks Elvie innocently, her curious gaze fixed on me.

“I believe I am getting closer and closer to the truth, Elvie,” I reply, a strange glint in my eyes. At my words, she nods. She understands. She feels what I feel.

Suddenly, Alfira screams, her eyes wide toward the sky. A fissure forms in the firmament. The sun itself seems to shatter, releasing a blinding light, almost unreal.

“Alfira, what is happening?” cries Elvaria, her features contorted with worry.

A figure then emerges from the forest, floating in the blinding radiance of the shattered sky. It is a woman, but she is nothing human. Her long white hair seems made of pure light, and her eyes, empty like two abysses, draw the gaze of those who dare to look at her for too long. Her gown, adorned with celestial patterns, appears woven from the very fabric of the stars. She does not seem to belong to this world.

Her aura is overwhelming, oppressive, like that of Aleystria. Perhaps even more powerful. My heart tightens in my chest.

“What a pleasure to see old faces again,” she says in a nonchalant tone, her empty gaze lost in the void.

“Who are you?” Valentin screams as he draws his sword, a reflex I follow without thinking, my two blades gleaming in my hands. Elvie takes her spear, ready to strike.

“DO NOT ATTACK HER!” Alfira screams, petrified by unfathomable terror.

“Wise girl,” adds the woman with white hair in a soft, almost apathetic voice. She seems above all this commotion.

We sheathe our weapons but remain on guard, every one of our senses alert.

“Aleystria… Elvaristria… the bearers of a part of the Stria,” she murmurs, a slight smile brushing her pale lips.

“What is she talking about?” Valentin asks, turning to us with a questioning look.

“We’ll talk about it later,” I shout, the danger becoming increasingly palpable. “Take Alfira and flee from here!”

Without hesitation, Valentin runs toward Alfira, lifts her off the ground, and leaps with her, his steps striking the ground with a controlled force, even without magic. Despite the absence of his skills, Valentin’s body, forged by years of training, remains a formidable weapon. He should be able to escape in time.

I then slowly turn toward the spectral figure standing before us. This woman, so strange, seems woven into the very fabric of dreams, like a mirage too real to disappear.

“How do you know about the Stria?” Elvie screams, her voice mingling confusion and defiance. She too bears this power, this mysterious gift we received from the Will of the World.

“Who are you?” I add, trying to mask the dread gnawing at me from within. My tone is cold, almost detached, but an abyss of questions burns deep inside me.

The woman advances with a graceful step, her expression immutably nonchalant, as if the tension of the moment has no hold on her. Her white, empty eyes reflect nothing, like doors to an infinite void.

“My name is of no importance… for now. Nor is my objective,” she replies in a voice that seems to carry magic itself. Every word she utters resonates like a wave, perturbing the air around us, as if the mere fact that she speaks changes the laws of this world.

"Give me your name," I say, this time more firmly, trying to give myself the illusion that I still control the situation. At my words, she sighs lightly, a nearly imperceptible breath, before looking up at me.

"Aleystria... always so demanding of women, aren’t you? I will only give you my name. And you should already know it... I am Llyrnoth."

That name... A chill runs down my spine. It is not just any name. It carries a terrible weight, a legend too old to be true. Her words seem to distort reality, as if that very name disrupts the fundamental laws of the universe. Llyrnoth...

"The Queen of the Void..." murmurs Elvaria, her legs giving way beneath her, leaving her kneeling, powerless before this revelation.

Llyrnoth… I encountered that name in the forgotten texts of my time at Orthosomo, during my research in the darkest corners of the library. A legend, almost a myth, whispered that an ancient ritual, aimed at probing the infinite, went awry. She was not merely a mythical figure but a testimony of a power that surpassed everything the Will of the World could create or even conceive.

Llyrnoth had torn the veils between worlds, allowing a superior force to invade her body. A fragment, an infinitesimal shard of Absolute Void, that primordial force beyond existence itself. How could this be true? If such an entity truly existed, then the gods would be nothing but shadows compared to her, and that would explain the Will of the World’s fear. Perhaps even the reason why Orthos, the king of gods, initiated the Holy War against humanity. If a human could contain such power... it would signify the end of everything.

"What do you want?" I scream, my voice cracked by the terror I try to hide.

For the first time, a flicker of annoyance crosses her usually impassive features. "The same thing as always, Aleystria. Your Stria, as well as that of Elvaristria." Her tone is colder, each word resonating with an almost unbearable intensity. "But you are still far too weak. Hurry and conquer your Prism and regain your former strength. The Holy War is merely a prelude... For the sky, you see, has much more interesting things in store."

Her gaze is fixed, piercing, and despite the enormity of her words, her expression remains desperately neutral, as if none of this mattered to her.

Then, a massive tremor shakes the ground, almost forcing us off our feet. A colossal flow of magic, vaster than anything I’ve ever felt, sweeps through the air around us, distorting reality itself. A beam of bluish light splits the sky, reminiscent of the vast and unfathomable depths of space.

And suddenly, everything stops. The entire world freezes. Llyrnoth has vanished. Her departure is as sudden as her arrival.

I collapse to the ground, my lungs emptying under the weight of the overwhelming aura she had imposed. It was almost impossible to breathe in her presence, as if the air itself refused to belong to me. Elvaria, though wavering, still stands. She approaches me gently, her footsteps resonating in the heavy silence.

"Aley... hold on to me, we’re going to join the others," she murmurs, her voice filled with tenderness, almost as if nothing had just happened.

I slowly nod, still trembling from the impact of the encounter. I slip my arm around her neck, and she lifts me, her comforting warmth mingling with the coldness of my thoughts. Our foreheads touch, and for a stolen moment, we seem to be alone, suspended in this moment of intimacy, a brief respite in this whirlwind of chaos.

But this peace cannot last. I feel it in my gut. This world has just changed, in a way I cannot yet grasp.

We need to find Valentin and Alfira, but something within me knows this is only the beginning of something much greater.