Depressing and dim light surrounding the buildings lit up Vault's entrances. Upon getting closer, Murai felt the spectacle of their proportions from his 30 centimeters tall vision. It was too tall for him.
The door by itself wasn't as tall as one could guess, but it was still 5 meters tall. Twice the height of the first floor, or so he believed. The building was hard to perceive. There should be at least two floors notable from the walls. Its origin wasn't that of the Sungod for sure. No ornaments depicting the previous owner were around.
Only Levandis was the fitting ruler of this place since she made it hers by all means necessary. The floors of this Vault could be one or two, but since there were no windows, Murai couldn't tell more guesses. It didn't seem that way from the distance, but the gate was closed, disallowing any unnecessary troublemaker to come inside.
There were a lot of precious things in each of the Vaults, and Murai didn't expect such a tight lock formation on the gate itself. Perhaps only a proper God could shatter such entrances that hid and protected this place for many millennia.
“How to get inside?” Murai turned to Lorry, quacking so Lorry knew what to know. It was hard to tell if Lorry knew the Anatidae language, but it was surely convenient for Murai to have another soul around him to understand his stupid quacks. He didn't truly care to know why Lorry understood him.
“Is Murai sure of this choice?”
“Wanna have another eye socket in your head? Forehead seems almost too perfect for my beak.” Murai said with quite an obvious killing intent, knowing very well that choice wasn't really that important. Lisa already stated her idea which he sort of accepted it. She was itching towards this Vault. Begrudgingly... Any of the Vaults provided rewards and a chance. Those depended on the proper difficulty and points of the Challenger.
Mindarch was a taker of this interest alone, making this place practically more proper than the majority of the Origin Dungeon in this regard. Mostly, Origin Dungeons wanted one's life, but how different was that from this place? Murai had no idea, but this place was very independent because of Mindarch's existence. A soul construct, right in the hands of Levandis herself.
It was up to the Challengers to reap the rewards and get what they wanted. Whether their points were enough to purchase what they desired was secondary, or sometimes their priority.
However, it was a bit more complicated than that, and neither Lisa nor Lorry talked much about it.
Points were one of the aspects of this temple that caused huge differences for successive Challengers. Another was their premise of rewards and choice which was often very rare in the Battleworld.
There were only two things one could truly influence: Evolution and Path. Some had only one of these, both, or none, which made up drastic changes to one's life.
When one came to this temple for once, it may be the poorest attempt, while any following attempt increased the points, making many rewards and unique opportunities proportional to the spike in difficulty. One would get more out of each consecutive attempt, which was one of the core rewards of this temple.
Lots of wealth will then arise out of any successful Challenger of this place, and it was no wonder that the Centralis Kingdom eyed this place for many ages. Levandis may not like it, but the prospect of the Surface was a neverending issue for any patriarch of Hell Havens. Especially when the Sky got involved in many layers and greed. Those two factions weren't glaring at one another eye to eye. They were more cutthroat and savage to let things slide.
Murai's Will put Lorry into a state of shivers, so he agreed with him because he feared the prospect of his beak. He opened the door with his status as a Guide. It was a front. The door opened by Mindarch's intervention, revealing a spacious room for giants. The ceiling was well over 10 meters tall and could accommodate small titans, or many thick and large beasts.
The size was often described with regard to loftiness and greater skies. Gods and mortals alike wanted to touch the untouchable, and the most basic principle was to create a more elevated ceiling. One may say it was laughable, but there was some true ancient history in this idea.
The gate opened inwards, letting out bright soft fog out of the insides of a large open room. There were all kinds of displays, open shelves, and even bookshelves, or tables all over the room. The floor was simple polished wood with few appliances that went along with it. It seemed surprisingly modern, cozy, and unlike what one may expect from a demonic place.
Considering the importance of this place, history, and degree of Levandis, this impression was just the bare minimum of what was proper. This room looked like some sort of salon, museum, and gallery mixed together. It didn't resemble a shop. Murai quickly noticed an abnormal amount of mana swirling throughout the room, coming from light constructs in the appearance of bulbs, flames, or pillars.
There were all kinds of powerful undulations, which he noted after a simple sweep of his new Mana Sonar, which surged around the room in one swoop. It gave him a headache in a split second, so he didn't like the first use of this new evolution of his Detection.
A lot about this Sonar was mental. Mana around this room was simply too strong, but thankfully Robust Spirit came into the clutch, providing him steady protection against the tension of the surroundings. He decided to be more gentle with his Mana Sonar which needed a different touch. It worked more flowy and strongly than Mana Detection.
But it still proved its worth when he used it again. Mana that went to his Sonar was like an auric wave, coming from all kinds of artifacts, equipment, and materials. He noted hundreds of kinds of treasures in an instant, and it was just from a mild wave of his Sonar. He wondered what else it could do.
There wasn't a noticeable Everflower, but not like it mattered.
A lot of things in this room looked the same as the prison from before: hidden behind runes, protection, and displays. Some must be on the upper floor as well. There was a staircase at the edge of one corner he noticed, but those were tall strain clearly not made for his body.
Murai was sure he wouldn't get these sorts of things anyway. He will be glad to... He paused his steps and swiped the surroundings a few more times with Sonar because he noticed something peculiar.
Uh? Sonar seems... interesting, or is it me or the surroundings? My mind takes it gradually better from the first swipe, but it requires some edge, use, and power. Like a light slap, or a punch. It can be flexible, or savage, unlike Mana Detection which was more straightforward.
It is quite different from Detected which was like the Inner Eyes from that rocky life. It may be the effect of my magic, steadier core, or mind. Robust Spirit too seems like a valid help and something I should consider more often. Something about Grade SS is a huge deal, or so Iris said. Anyway... Murai began to walk around, ignoring the two souls behind his back that chirped something between them.
This will be his shopping spree and he can't wait!
Behind him, Lisa was grabbing the spatial pouch ever since Murai ordered it. She hugged it like bear a prey, floating up to look around to see whether there was something decent she remembered from her last visits. There must be items that should've prevailed for 50 years of time.
In fact, a lot of potential rewards were centuries old, even before they came here.
Everything was intact and in pristine condition because of time-regulating constructs and arrays filled with runes.
Someone must be taking good care of this place. No speck of dust was noticeable on the floor, corners, or shelf. Lisa smiled as she floated a bit more towards the ceiling, watching the shelves or displays under her Sona Eyes, which allowed her to see the world in a new light. Her eyes glowed in thick azure light, and mana became like vivid sea waves under her sight.
It wasn't hurting her at all, although the effects of this ability were still new to her. She hardly paid any attention to her skills after all. She can't really afford it.
She will find something that will be useful for Murai, so he will accept some slack for her lacking manners. It will be difficult because she had no idea what sort of things Murai needed. If anything, she understood the heights of his standards more than Murai knew.
As she watched, Murai turned frantic and jumped to the rows of tables in the middle of this open room. He used a stool which was barely enough for him to climb. “Oh, those are Tomes? Good. Let's see.” He cheered when he ascended the stool, standing on a large table filled with many martial technique manuals and tomes of some importance. They weren't on the packed shelves, so these must be exceptional.
There were sections of dozens of kinds of tomes ranging from beginning to middle advanced magical techniques. Elemental Tomes with all kinds of individual-based spells took a large number of these. There were also many magic constructs, depicting equipment to all kinds of magic tools.
Sometimes, it was hard to see the difference between equipment to magical items. Mainly, the equipment was something one had to wear, but magic construct can be that too, but not always.
Equipment was always wearable and quickly noted. Weapons were important on all fronts. Magical constructs could be like Talismans: one could use them in all kinds of ways, and they may act like equipment, or a simple tool or action.
There was almost no stop of them because the rows of tables went to another row of tables towards the other side of the room.
“There are indeed a lot of things of some value. Is this what you all got from the adventurers that died here?” Murai asked, turning his attention to Lorry who kept floating above him through this time, observing him and his choices. He didn't notice where Lisa was, but it wasn't as if it was that important.
“Oh, is Murai interest?”
“I wouldn't... if I didn't ask!”
“In that case, not really,” Lorry explained and floated down until he was at his eye level. “Most of what Murai can see are touches of wars that Demonic Armies under our Lady acquired from the Battleworld under various forms. Vaults are just a portion of our Lady's stash, but the temple is important for demons and challengers alike. Demonic Armies also get to choose whatever they want from this place when they accomplish great results. Isn't it great?” He floated closer, speaking in a crisp and impressive tone. “Only about 20% is from the temple itself. Isn't that intense and kind? Our Lady is truly a kind Lady. One kind of a Ruler!”
“Ruler, huh? Just a nickname. She isn't even one..” Murai mumbled, but Lorry ignored him as he kept blabbering about how great Levandis was. “So is this some sort of storage?”
“And place for the Demons under our Lady's command to get rewards for all kinds of services. A lot of... AY!” Lorry shouted as if someone hit his skull, causing him to scowl in pain. “I've got it! Ugh... Lorry does understand. Yes. Yes. No talk of it.”
Murai glared at him in astonishment, figuring that Mindarch had drilled into his head, similar to the Will of the Battleworld. He talked to him and ordered him like Will of the Battleworld. Murai wondered what it could be like to have a clever construct in one's head.
Lorry changed back to the professional Guide that he was meant to be. “Anyway, in the case of a temple's politics, this place works as a place to steady the military progression of our Lady's armies, as well as to get some rewards under certain criteria... that Lorry can't indulge, unfortunately,” He added, revealing the kind of information that Muraid already figured.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Oh, so the Chaos faction has this sort of resources... and order? I wonder what this could mean for the lower floors, or those Hell Havens and many Gods. Like... No. It seems it's a bit too early for me to worry about it. Razmund is not part of it anyway, so I suppose that makes this rather forced on the Sky instead? Mindarch talked about it like that... but what about that Battlewill, or Villan's offer?
That isn't important, I think. Huh... Freaking gods and their ploys! That is what it is. Forcing me with their messes, grudges, and pain. I swear I will bite some in the nose, or ass. I swear to my name as Murai Hisagi, or... others?
Murai was unnaturally irritated for no apparent reason, and Lorry seemed to take Mindarch's voice in unsteady steps. It usually didn't speak in this manner. Not in Gate 1, or in such...
Well, the circumstances weren't normal in any form or shape. There were dangers out there, as well as problems. Sky and Depths will always clash and try to up the other. It was up to Mindarch and Will of the Battleworld to clash their benefits, when many foes wanted to clutch one's throat.
Alas, it may not be up to Mindarch to care about it, since he was a tool of Levandis. Whatever she desired always moved. Even mountains and rivers were no different. She had yet to make any move, which may change since it wasn't every day that Encounter moved right into her domain.
For now, Mindarch acted alone on his own calculations and stored Levandi's rules.
As Murai remained wandering in his shopping, seeking the treasures and hoping for the best, outside of Death Valley wasn't one bit calm.
***
The moment of importance had arrived. Ceila was walking through the harsh environment of Death Valley, unbothered by wind or storms that could tear bronze-rank adventures apart.
She already walked for some time, unhindered, even though her mind wasn't quite calm. She wished to fix this mess quicker.
There were a lot of bothersome people bothering her, as she feared. Solving or kicking their asses turned out to be wasteful. Though, it was yet to be over. True troubles were just starting.
As the sandstorms subsided before her eyes, there were new enemies and one humongous structure.
200 meters before her eyes was wide open Levandis Temple. Much closer than that were 3 dozen men, guarding this place. Those were a variable, but not Razmund's idea, nor Thar's tools. Razmund commanded his own care of potential threats in different ways. He wasn't alone. King of Centralis Kingdom: Zendurion and his brother Uzbek—Razmund's Master—thought of different scenarios and interesting premises.
It wasn't as if they had many choices, however.
“Well, what is the little battalion doing here? Level 30 to 40? Is this a joke, or something that the other side is so clever to use?” Ceila asked the front-facing man who was obviously obscuring her path. Most of them were wearing long cloaks, leaving their aura shrouded and faces hidden.
But Ceila wasn't stupid or blind. She noted their level and might, but something about them was fishy.
“What it can be, hm? Can we do something for you, the 2nd Sun of the Vermilion Church?” the front-facing man said, speaking calmly as if he were talking to a friend. “This is Centralis's Kingdom place of interest. Not just anyone can enter it, you see. Especially someone like you. It needs proper etiquette or a form of contact with our humble establishment of Falconers. It is only then, that some may try to come here. Not behind our backs, you see? A lot of them come in without any care, leaving us no face. It needs some change, don't you think?”
He had the appearance of a Falconer, and out of them all, his cloak was less useful. A dusted yet glistering light armor was underneath the cloak, protecting what shall be protected. He was holding two sword handles beside his hips, and the hood at least worked, shrouding his face. Not one bit of his face was visible, but something about his voice caused Ceila to stop her steps.
He appeared stoic at first, yet his voice was filled with quite a force when he mentioned her title of the 2nd Sun with mockery.
“You son of a devil... Do you want some butchering? You all?!” Ceila uttered with utter calmness, stomping the ground and crossing her arms around her chest. Her armor shined without a speck of dust on her whatsoever. Her aura was vigorous; her eyes resolute. It went along with her decision to come here first and ask questions later.
“Would you care of a face? That seemed to be the case at first, but... who am I speaking to again?” The man asked, shoving his arms open while the men behind his back brandished their weapons. They were all low-ranked Falconers who weren't worth much in this sort of Encounter that touched many limits and plots. But all of them had way better weapons for their level than they should, and who knew what else they had under their sleeves.
Most of them were under level 40, but the front-facing man was much stronger. Securing the outside region around the temple wasn't his proud idea, but he puffed his chest and walked forward as if it were.
He didn't want any obscurities, and whether Vermillion Church would pose a threat was highly possible. Under normal calculations, around 40% was a base chance for them to cause direct trouble. This was quite a direct and correct assessment.
Ceila was hesitant to come here, but 40% was still quite a number. She was ready to force the situation if the situation called for that. And it long ago did.
Since the moment Iris was kidnapped under her inadequate vision, she was furious. Another bother was the lack of Vermillions' voice. It was suspicious, growing her face with worry when she didn't know why it was happening.
“Where is my student, nobody?” she asked openly; expecting an answer.
“Oh, have we been found out?” The man revealed his face by flicking his head and getting his hoodie behind his back. He revealed his face, which was confident with a smile creeping on his cheeks. “From when have you got some student? Sorry to tell, but...” His voice stopped not because he wanted to.
Before he expected to continue, something went ahead into his mouth, shutting it along with his voice and life.
He looked at a long stick, which reeked of blood under Ceila's single-handed grip. It was a thin spear, while the spearhead itself was resting behind his head. She grasped the other side of this flexible secondary weapon, holding it like a stick. She appeared one moment before him and shoved it to his throat, shutting his words from telling useless blabber.
Whether he ended up dead or not, it worked quite well.
The man looked forward in surprise since he didn't detect such movement from the start. Death Valley was harsh in detecting Veils, or defensive formation, and the stronger the person was, the more this place seized their spirit and clutched their Will.
Detecting dangers was always difficult in this place, and he was just a guarding dog. Not a foe to kill the troublemakers.
The rest of the Falconers quickly released their formations, making use of their numbers to be as strong as possible. Albeit, without their leader, it was too late to hope for the win, since Ceila didn't even move away or regarded them as a threat.
She glared at the corpse, angry and serious, ignoring the flaring mana of the dozens of fools. She retrieved her spear from the head. It was a long, but thin-looking 3-meter-long spear. What was strange was the fact that it didn't bend at all, making it a rather strange spear, considering its thinness. The man's dead body fell to the sand, a hole was visible through his head. Blood splurged out of both ends.
Ceila didn't even look at him, nor glanced at the others with clear intent to kill. “So, tell me, the one hiding behind this charade, ploy, and mess. Is this situation anything normal, hiding weasel? Forcing things up is a facade that Centralis has done for a long time already. I, WE, we are all fed up with it. So, tell me, Uzbek. Should I be clear with my intentions to make this situation clear, or do you want to watch in silence as I kill these children? It doesn't matter to you, it seems. It certainly doesn't bother me if I say so myself.” Ceila turned her head sideways, her gaze pointing towards a dune where no one was.
At this moment, one of the Falconers used this opportunity and swung his Grade A and Level 65 halbert towards Ceila's head. He jumped from his group, but the range of the formation was wide. He was still under its effect, swuing his strong halbert in its thickness and nasty-looking sharpness. It was well above his level and grade and could endanger a Sun.
He went for the head under a moment since she was close to them from the get-go. 10 centimeters before her neck, the halbert's edge stopped, and even the man's vision turned strange. He no longer had his eyes on her whatsoever. Part of her was missing. Or he was?
A spear went through his skull too, piercing his right eye, pointing a part of his brain at the other side as if it were a trophy.
The skull was crushed, blood flew, and the body fell along with the halbert to the ground. Ceila didn't even look at him.
“Very well. I took it as clear as the dots in the pillars. The prediction came through.” A deep voice told, coming from the dune that Ceila remained glaring at. A silhouette of a man, shrouded in cloak appeared out of nothing but sand. He sat there for who knew how long, so he patted his clothes from all this sand before standing up.
He was a young-looking man, clothed in a green cloak, while a leather attire had golden outlines around its designs. It looked like a decent military uniform of high-rank standards. It wasn't something ready for a war, but it could work the same as any equipment.
Sometimes, the appearance of equipment no longer mattered. A bulky armor of lower grade may as well be weaker than high-grade armor made of thin and carefully forged dragon scales. What was their quality, or what effect it had mattered more. Runes and formations can shatter physical limits by empowering the user with many layers.
His hands creased and pushed the sand away. After a couple of awkward swipes, he revealed his face that hid behind a cloak. His short blond hair fluttered in the wind, making his appearance relaxed, as he forced a slight smile towards her. He winked at her and even waved a hand. His eyes were completely golded. Be it iris, pupil, or sciera, he watched everything with golden confidence.
Uzbek Centralis. A man who was no direct servant of the Centralis Kingdom, but not as if it mattered. The past didn't matter. He was strong regardless of his appearance and his level was in the 80s.
“I expected someone else, other than... you,” Ceila said, shoving the spear towards his direction, letting the blood drip to the sand. “Since my student is involved, I invited myself. There doesn't seem to be a problem with it for some reason, which may be explained by the intervention of Vermillion Church, or... you. You invited me. Us. Everyone. It is only fitting to touch on this problem, while involvement in the Encounter's prose is just secondary. Got it?”
“It's a basic plot of those that are beyond us, Ceila. Nothing more.” Uzbek spoke calmly.
“Excuses.” She grunted, unbothered by the man's gentle voice. It almost sounded soothing. Too soothing. It was as if his voice traveled to every corner of one's mind, making one glad to hear him.
“Well, the course of history is always interesting and everchanging. I love it. Love!” Uzbek cheered and laughed, walking toward her in an open manner. “Splendid changes go along the history. To get something done, something decent must change or disappear. It is a course of normalcy. In this world. No. Not only this world, you see? It is everywhere. The universe is a taker of Order and a Judge of Chaos. It appeared a peculiar chance occurred at all fronts, and it's strange, don't you think?” He asked, stating his truth as he got even closer. Ceila remained unmoving like her gaze and her spear.
“It's up to your favor though. Bastards.”
“Whose?” Uzbek frowned, appearing flustered. “Mine?” He shoved an arm beneath his cloak, pointing a finger towards his face and giggling. “I don't think you are in a clear picture of what is even happening, but at the same time, not many people can guess what is happening in the Skies, or greater Divine Kingdoms.”
“Uzbek!”
“Calm down, will you?” He turned his voice stern. “I heard it all and seen most of it. Razmund touched your student. They are in our capital, so have you got the gist of it already? It goes according to our unfollowed terms, which go alongside Battleworld's wishes. Do you know what it means? I bet you do. You are old and clever, much to a glance at your face.”
Ceila's face turned red in anger for the first time. “Capital? Why?”
“Yes. Yes. Anger and all of that is fitting. We... or to be precise, Razmund is responsible for the part of this change, which appears much bigger than him anyway. It's rather surprising, or so Zendurion said. That sicko has always been plotting things, watching the Somalis for a long time. The source of it all is a small thing, or so someone said. Some things went... a long way ahead from the norm. For now, that is. A start of something greater.”
Ceila didn't know what to say, but Uzbek seemed to be the talking type of an idiot who explained the situation first, before dying a horrible and useless death.
She wished to laugh at his face, but what he spoke was interesting, but terrible for her purpose. She wanted Iris back. She needed her back, but can't even fathom the idea to get to a City of Chaos, let alone talk it out with Central Church, or Zendurion himself.
This reeked of problems, and Uzbek also mentioned it, albeit poorly. It was about Gods. As expected.
“Why my student? I barely made her official, so why have you got her involved? They are children too. You a sicko also.” She almost spat those words at him.
“Don't ask me. I would've opposed it if I had the chance, considering our old acquaintances.” Uzbek nodded, making an unnoticeable gesture to his troops.
“That was a long time ago. ” Ceila shoved the spear away, letting other corpses down her feet when a pair of Falconers wanted to cross their blades and cut her head off. Turning her feet to face Uzbek, she completely ignored the remaining Falconers when a sickly white aura surged around the ground, coming from her body.
She enveloped the Falconers in this aura. They could no longer move regardless of their formations. It was as if their muscles ceased to work, or their fear restricted them from stepping forth.
“Come on. Calm you Holy Aura... Well, not really. Calling it Holy is an understatement. It doesn't fit with this you at all.” Uzbek said, and by this point, came face to face with her. He walked as if going to a garden, ignoring the ability that stemmed from her Gifted status of a large-scale interest.
Holy Grail Aura: A restraining type and Grade S domain ability. It worked well against those weaker than her, but when met with a tough and powerful foe, it was like restraining a mountain. Uzbek moved toward her without a problem and stood a meter before her.
He was shorter than her by more than a few heads, but it didn't seem to bother him. In fact, it was the opposite; obvious by a smirk on his face.
The height of a normal person had its benefits. A clear duo of them was right there before his face. He glared at her chest as if it were her eyes, but his eyes were hard to glimpse at. It was a mash of glowy gold, and nothing indicated where he was looking. From the turns of his head, it was barely enough to read his face.
He smiled, nodding in some silant confirmation.