Far away from the royal palace, on the other side of Anthor City, two shoddy buildings that stood side by side. On any average day, one would find a plethora of adventurers loitering about in front of them, perhaps even engaged in heart-filled conversations.

However in this moment, the crowd of weather-beaten cloaks and muck traveled boots were curiously staring at the brilliant carriage that was parked a stone’s toss away.

“Hey, isn’t that nobility?”

“Yea, it is. Weird right?”

“Nobility never comes this way. Not these days.”

As the adventurers spoke amongst themselves, one in particular pulled at the outer fringes of their hood, burying their face deeper within.

“I heard a rumor that it’s Count Altores’ wife. Apparently she has come to purchase a couple traveling cloaks from the old tailor. Receiving her business is quite the blessing.”

The figure stole away from the crowd, walking toward the entrance to the Millennium Dragon outpost next door.

Courtesy of Countess Altory, I’ll be expecting two cloaks. One black and the other a nice dark burgundy. I wonder which one Sans will pick?

Stepping through the entrance to Millennium Dragon, Elsie wore an uplifting smile.

Who am I kidding, of course he’ll pick the black one.

It interior was sparsely populated, which was only possible due to the unavoidable distraction outside. The walls were lined with peeling paint, while broken furniture was aplenty.

The countess and commander will only be able to distract the king’s guards for so long. So I don’t have much time. Fortunately, my disguise was foolproof.

She wasted no time and approached the main counter, dodging any loose timbers that littered the floor.

“Hi there, how may we help you, sir?”

The young man behind the counter maintained a business-oriented smile as he gestured toward Elsie. She flipped back her hood, revealing a disguise that most definitely failed to do its job.

“A visit to the historians, please.”

She fiddled with the fake mustache plastered across her face, twisting the ends as if she were a gentleman of sophistication and intrigue. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of the assistant’s head.

“Of course ma’am-“

“Hmm?”

“I mean, sir. If you could present your guild token then we will deduct the necessary points.”

Elsie placed her guild token on the countertop, before cooly sliding it over as if partaking a drug deal. The man shook his head as he received the token.

“Adventurers these days…”

He muttered beneath his breath as he held the token over a stone platform, which flashed with a series of intricate lights. The adventurer’s guild offered many services to those in need, visiting the historians was only one of those. Each service cost varying amounts of guild points and some were locked depending on the adventurer’s rank. Additional guild points, along with increased adventurer rank, could only be earned by completing tasks for Millennium Dragon.

“A visit to the historians is it? It’ll cost 50 guild points, are you sure? That’s the equivalent of completing five D-rank missions.”

“Just get on with it.”

Elsie wagged her fingers inward as if asking for her token back. With her free hand she retrieved a monocle, placing it over her eye and inspecting her surroundings with a smoldering gaze. The assistant frowned before interacting with the shining lights before him, then he returned the token with a poorly hidden sneer.

Visiting the historians was often seen as a waste of guild points, especially on the first floor. Most missions on the first floor were insignificant enough to warrant additional information gathering. It wasn’t anything unusual to see a fresh adventurer visit the historians for the first time, only to return in disappointment upon realizing they gained nothing of value.

Elsie knew all of this and more. However, her guild token wasn’t like others. It still played by the same rules, accumulating points and rank by accomplishing tasks, but completing missions over thousands and thousands of years had the side effect of making her extraordinarily wealthy. What was a couple pennies to a billionaire?

“Will that be all?”

The man asked in a deprecating tone.

“Yes, thank you.”

Elsie responded curtly, still maintaining detective-level decorum.

“Your token is charged and ready. Second door on your left is the portal room. Once you enter, it’ll read the information on the token and take you to the historians.”

He gestured toward the side of the room. Elsie gave him a nod of acknowledgement as she clasped her hands behind her back and left.

“I hope it’s worth it. Next!”

The man snorted before calling out to the line that was beginning to form.

What a helpful chap.

Elsie held her head high as she walked with a pretentious look in her eye. Those around her instinctively dodged her gaze, only to curiously look on after she passed by. She entered the portal room within short time and immediately stepped inside.

A blue light flashed, and the next moment her surroundings had shifted completely. She stood on a platform that was positioned in the middle of a massive library. Men and women wearing lengthy robes roamed the various aisles, each studying the different tomes that caught their respective interests.

“Oh! A customer.”

An older man stepped forward. Wrinkles defined his face more than skin, but despite his aged appearance, he walked with energy and his posture was as straight as could be.

Elsie came down from the platform and gave the man a formal nod. She pinched and twisted one end of her mustache and squinted through her monocle.

“I am looking for information on the Kingdom of Anthor, specifically on King Anthor. Additionally, I’d like to take a look at the blood registry…”

“Lovely, lovely! Youngsters these days never understand the power of information, but just one look at you-ah, where are my manners? I am Historian Ald, pleased to meet you.”

Historian Ald gave Elsie a light bow, who responded in kind.

“If you would come this way.”

The man walked with a light strut toward a table about waist height.

“Anthor Kingdom is a relic from ancient times. Can you believe it? One of the few kingdoms that has been able to survive through a multitude of tribulations and eras, including the more recent Void Wars—which might regrettably begin once more. We can credit the previous king for their survival due to his unique… adaptability... which I am sure you’ve heard about.”

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He spun one of the many silver rings on his finger, and the next second his hand sunk lower as it caught a heavy tome.

“The blood registry, if you will.”

“Thank you.”

Elsie pulled the tome closer and rapidly flipped through the pages. Each one was full of names crossed out by black lines, which meant they had died. Very occasionally, a name would also have a red line underneath, which meant they had become crippled.

“Ahh, I see you have a knack for research! What remarkable technique.”

Historian Ald grinned as he watched Elsie scan each page like clockwork. It was a trait that only the most experienced historians could acquire, one that required an untold amount of time buried in books.

“What can you tell me about the Anthor bloodline curse?”

Elsie asked the historian without diverting her attention away for even a second.

“The Anthor bloodline curse? A tale as old as time, or as old as Anthor I should say. The short version is a squabble over a woman. Within Anthor Kingdom, the story is as follows: Long ago, Marumen, the most powerful adventurer of his time, attacked the King of Anthor out of jealousy and hatred for his new wife. In the process, he cursed their bloodline after beheading the king in a fit of rage.”

Historian Ald shifted his hand over another ring, and a second ancient tome appeared.

“However, within this scripture lies the true events. The old King of Anthor was a lascivious fellow with many wives. He had taken a young village girl, Nala Saed, against her will. How could he have known that she was a long-time friend of the great Marumen?”

He opened the tome and flipped to a certain section and read it out loud.

“And I quote: it was a day of deserved reckoning for our wonderful kingdom. One of strife and woe, but also of mercy. Lightning roamed the skies like electric dragons of fury, while the lands crumbled and shuddered under the might of the powerful Marumen. What could have ended in utter tragedy, was resolved with a simple beheading—the death of my father, the King of Anthor.”

Historian Ald flipped the page and continued.

“Our citizens escaped tragedy, but our royal family was not spared. On that day he uttered a curse, one that we would have to pay dividends to in some future generations. Although we aren’t certain the exact details of the curse, it will henceforth become tradition for each generation to prepare for it accordingly.”

The man slammed the tome shut with a raised brow.

“That’s the origins of the curse, but at the time it was unknown what sort of curse it was. That is… until recently.”

“With the previous king? King Olgren?”

Elsie asked, still scanning each page with care.

“That’s right. Good King Olgren, an incredible man if I must say. I was good friends with him you know? One of the things we used to joke about was his invisible brother. It was a funny rumor at the time that there was a second prince, but I digress… yes, it was Olgren that discovered the bloodline curse. Perhaps it had to do with the nature of his unique skillset, but he was also the first within Anthor’s extensive lineage to finally succumb to it.”

Historian Ald let out a regretful sigh as he continued.

“Despite being blamed for his fate, us at Millennium Dragon tried to help him uncover the secrets of the bloodline curse. Even after calling upon experts within the field, nobody could see what he saw. Naturally this also doubled as his supervision, as every blood magic user is required to be supervised. However, the mysteries of Marumen eluded us, and we were unable to resolve the curse even till the day he succumbed to it.”

Finally, Elsie stopped scanning through the blood registry, pausing on one of the more recent pages. Her finger landed upon a certain name, Olgren Anthor, which was both crossed out in black but also underlined in red.

“You say he succumbed to it?”

“Yes, a sad day for Anthor I must say.”

“But he did not die that day?”

Elsie traced the red line with her finger to show the historian.

“Ah, no. It was Prince Soren, the current king, who notified us of the curse’s activation. When we found Olgren, it was already too late. His body had become twisted and hideous, as if all the strength in his body had shifted and morphed his body. I can still recall that wretched appearance, him crawling to me as he cried for help.”

Historian Ald paused for a moment, tapping his lips with his index finger.

“One of his arms dragged along the floor, and somehow he acquired a limp. Likely due to the disproportional spread of energy within his body. His body had regressed and become almost child-like, even though it still carried some of his former strength. Most disgusting of all was his new fixation on blood. He was nothing like his former self.”

Elsie stared at the historian through her monocle with an arched brow.

“Yes, my dear?”

“So you underlined him in red, because he could no longer practice blood magic. He was effectively crippled. But… why is he crossed out? Did he die?”

Historian Ald adopted a strange expression, almost confused.

“Why yes. Of course he’s dead. A couple years after Soren ascended the throne, he held a funeral for his dear father, stating that the bloodline cursed had finally taken his life.”

“Did you see the body yourself?”

Historian Ald lightly laughed and gave a knowing smile.

“Of course I did. I was there myself! After all, Olgren was a dear friend of mine and-“

“But you said King Soren was also given the moniker… the Illusion King?”

“Well I…”

Historian Ald paused for a moment and his brow became tightly knitted. Previously, Elsie did not think it possible for more wrinkles to fit on the man’s face, but his current appearance proved her wrong.

“Additionally, I was looking through the records, searching for anyone belonging to the Anthor bloodline. I found no other individuals. In all of history, only Olgren Anthor was a blood magic user. I won’t say it’s impossible for an anomaly to appear within a long lineage such as this, but I have a feeling there’s something else at play. Look here.”

Elsie flipped back a page, pointing out another crossed out name. Not only was it scratched out, implying death, but there was also a red line etched underneath.

“This man here, Borgash the Risen. What’s his story?”

Historian Ald shook out his dizziness as he focused in on Elsie’s finger.

“Ah, Borgash. This was a peculiar man, one before even my time. He was a recluse for the most part, but never sought out trouble. Rumors were that he was a runaway prince to some prestigious family, but no one was ever close enough to him to learn the true story. He met an unfortunate fate while experimenting on his own.”

He cocked his head to the side before continuing.

“Actually, he story wasn’t unlike Old Olgren’s. We had found him as a warped being, but he died a few short days after. Whatever twisted experiment he was conducting, it seemed he had failed. A blood magic user who strayed too far from the righteous path, resulting in the ultimate failure.”

Elsie slammed the blood registry shut and pushed it toward the historian.

Or perhaps, the ultimate success.

She stole stealthy looks around her as she adjusted her monocle.

“Thank you for your service, Historian Ald. A couple more questions and then I will be on my way.”

“I do enjoy a curious mind.”

He gave an amicable smile as he folded his hands together.

“You mentioned that the Void Wars might begin once more?”

Upon hearing her question, Historian Ald cast her a thoughtful look.

“Normally, it is against the rules of us historians to speak of other floors as the price of information is different. But luckily for you, since I already mentioned the Void Wars—I can let it slide. Something tells me that you already knew I would say this.”

Elsie gave him an innocent smile before twisting the loose ends of her fake mustache.

“The Void Wars were drawn to a stalemate following the Eternal Watcher’s grand seal that he placed on the main dimensional gate. It was like cutting off water from a network of pipes. One by one all the void gates withered and faded. Ever since, he has stood watch over the seal, ensuring it never come undone. Hence the title we gave him, the Eternal Watcher.”

Elsie nodded for him to continue.

“Sadly, with each new generation of adventurers, some things become lost to time. Emotions of terror faded, and arrogance took root. After all, the void planes are some of the most lucrative sources of income should you survive. With the primary void gates forcibly closed, there were very few methods remaining to traverse the void planes.”

As he spoke, Elsie’s eyes narrowed as she subtly adopted a dark look.

“Over the years, the Eternal Watcher bore the brunt of numerous attacks, but not from rogue demon’s or voidlings of any sort. It was from adventurers who cursed his presence, wishing to find fame and fortune amongst the void planes. He waved off their attacks like the insects they were, until one day a faction developed.”

Historian Ald sighed and palmed his head.

“Those idiots. They banded together and assaulted the watcher, taking turns day and night to put him under constant fire. Since he was bound to the seal, feeding it his energy, he was handicapped and unable to retaliate against their collective might. Eventually he had to make a choice, step aside and let them destroy the void seal, or die.”

Elsie clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction.

I told him this would happen, but he wanted to think the best of people.

“The Eternal Watcher stepped aside, and the seal was broken. As a result, they got what they desired, direct access to the void planes. At the same time, the creatures of the void received the same thing. In droves they poured out… thus potentially reigniting the Void Wars.”

“Potentially reigniting? So have the void gates appeared again, or…”

Elsie asked through squinted eyes.

“Heh, while the faction responsible for this was being massacred by the relentless onslaught of voidlings, the Eternal Watcher was regaining his strength. Recounts from the survivors say that he decimated every voidling with a single step, before rushing directly into the main gate itself. Since then, the tide of voidlings ceased, and none of the smaller dimensionally gates have yet to appear.”

Historian Ald stroked his beard and continued.

“We speculate that the watcher is fighting an eternal battle alone from within the void gate, preventing its energies from creeping into the tower. No one can say for certain because anyone who enters the gate never comes out. However, who could possibly fight for so long let alone win an uphill battle? That is why the upper floors are preparing once again for the Void Wars.”

Elsie let out a small chuckle.

I think I know someone who could end a war alone. That being said… the void planes are not located within the tower as they are a different dimension. It’s only a matter of time before the clone runs out of energy—perhaps a few years at most.

She clasped her hands together and gave the historian a nod of approval.

“Thank you, my visit to the historians has been very insightful, but now I must go.”

“No rather, thank you instead! I wish more adventurers on the first floor would seek knowledge. As the saying goes, knowledge is power! Ho-ho-ho!”

He curled a finger around the tail of his beard as he laughed. At the same time, Elsie waved goodbye, entering the portal from whence she came.