Surprisingly, there was a second path available, although it was quite unconventional. Underneath the bridge were a bunch of rocks receiving a beating from the water. There was enough to be considered a path toward the other side, yet the problem lied about their stability. One misstep would send them plunging into the freezing lake.

Though exhausted, Tyrus made it across safely, more or less. There were a couple times where he had to take long breaks, and he even slipped a couple times, but he didn't fall. Igneal, on the other hand, had issues traversing the rocks, so it took him even longer to cross.

Six times he slipped and had his foot into the water. Five times he overshot his jump and ended up smacking his chest against the rocks. It was funny seeing a proud guy like him have trouble on a simple pathway. The way his eyebrows twitched in annoyance and the grumbling beneath his breath were quite amusing. Of course, Tyrus kept a straight face to hide his enjoyment of Igneal's struggles. By the time he was done, it looked as if his soul had departed from his body.

Igneal collapsed onto his knees and wheezed, "...If I hear you speak of this to anyone, I will personally see to it that your life is hell."

"It wasn't that bad," Tyrus responded, biting the inside of his cheek.

Igneal shot him a glare and grumbled something incoherent as he unlaced his boots. Once they were off, he poured the excess water out, and Tyrus couldn't help but pinch his nose and look away. He heard the crackle of a fire for a minute, and then Igneal lacing up his boots again.

"Once I get out of this godsforsaken place, I'm taking a bath," Igneal grumbled. He rose and looked around, and Tyrus followed along.

The terrain, as expected, was muddy and scattered with skeletons—a treasure vault size of them, in fact—stumps, and shattered boats. Aside from the terrible conditions and scenery, what caught their eye immediately was a massive altar and a tree much, much larger than the structure. Its bark was devoid of color, reminding Tyrus of fire pit ashes. Still, even with the creepy scenery of skeletons and a place devoid of life, what shocked him the most was that there was a nose in the tree. When he peered closely at the tree again, he noticed circular grooves near the top of its trunk.

"Wait... Is that—"

"There's the artifact!" Igneal interrupted. He hurried forward, as if all signs of fatigue had disappeared. However, the more distance he gained, the slower his body moved. From a jog to trudging, as if traveling through a snowstorm. A few seconds later, he stopped.

Igneal attempted to take another step, but his body stubbornly refused to comply. With a mighty grunt, he swung his arms and stretched his neck forward, yet his efforts were in vain as he remained firmly rooted to the spot.

"I did not wallow around in muck and taste mud to be held back! Hey, give me a hand over here. Use augmentation and carry me over to the altar! This damn corrupted mana is prohibiting me from moving closer. It's like I'm pushing against an invisible wall."

"What are you two doing here?!" said a stern voice.

Tyrus whipped his head and saw Sir Geroth appearing from behind a nearby rock spire. Eyes as sharp as a blade glared in their direction; His face was contorted into a scowl. The overseer was also had his entire chest exposed, revealing a series of burn marks. A white aura cling to his body, and in his hand was the magnificent sword Tyrus ever laid his eyes on. Besides that, why was Sir Geroth half naked?

Sir Geroth rushed to the pair and said, "This place is dangerous! You kids should not be this close to a contaminated zone!"

When he got close enough to Igneal, a wave of confusion washed over Sir Geroth's face. He stopped in his tracks and looked Igneal all over. After a second had passed, he blew a sigh of relief and sheathed his sword.

"So that's how you're able to withstand the corrupted mana..."

Tyrus caught up with them and paused right next to Igneal. He looked at where the Lockhart stood and the direction of the altar. Wondering why Igneal was struggling, he took a few steps forward with no problems other than his body feeling a bit heavier than usual.

"I can move forward just fine," Tyrus said.

Sir Geroth nodded. "That is because your body is stronger than Lord Igneal's. However, it will not be long until you will meet the same issue. Do not come any closer. Wait here while I deal with the artifact. I've only just recently finished my battle against the dark sorcerer's minions."

Igneal moved away from the 'invisible barrier' and faced Sir Geroth. "What will you do with the artifact, royal knight?"

"At first, I planned to destroy it, but that may do more harm than good. An explosion might occur, effecting an even larger part of the Wasteful Wetlands and possibly towns nearby. First, I must construct a barrier around the artifact so that its power cannot escape. Then I will deliver it to the Imperial Palace so that Curator Agnese can watch over the relic. It will buy us time for her and the court to figure out a way to destroy it or completely nullify it."

"Okay, good. If you're delivering it to the Imperial Palace, then that means you'll be reporting what has happened here to His Majesty. Don't forget to include my name in the report as well. After all, I played a vital role in protecting the artifact and the lives of the other applicants."

Sir Geroth raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that? No, that can wait. Business comes first. Now, if you'll excuse me."

With a burst of energy, Sir Geroth leaped away, landing just in front of the altar. The man brought out his sword and pointed it at what appeared to be a cube. Mana poured out from his body and along the sword until it finally wrapped around the artifact.

Tyrus didn't understand what exactly the royal knight was doing, nor could he figure it out based on the expressionless look on Sir Geroth's face. All he could tell was that he was concentrating on something.

Tyrus stared at the cube again. From what he could make out, a sinister light encompassed the relic, yet it dimmed the longer Sir Geroth interacted with it. Soon he made out strange symbols on the surface. Something tugged at Tyrus's brain. Just where has he seen those before? He had no clue what it said, but he definitely recognized it somewhere.

Just then, his storage ring grew heavy, and his arm jerked downward. A gasp escaped him before his arm descended, crashing into the ground. Tyrus's muscles strained as he exerted all his strength, but the weight in his hands seemed insurmountable, as if he were grappling with an immovable boulder.

"What's up with you?" Igneal asked, walking forward.

"I-I don't know!"

The green gem on the ring glowed, and out came the orb he had stashed inside, floating near Tyrus. The realization hit him: the cube and the orb shared the same symbols! Tyrus was confused. How did the orb and the cube have the same markings on them? Was it coincidence? And what did it mean? Tyrus couldn't wrap his head around it, nor did he have time to.

The orb jerked and drifted toward the altar. Unexpectedly, a blinding white light emanated from the object, compelling Tyrus to shut his eyes immediately. He had to use his other hand to shield himself from the radiance, and even then it wasn't enough. The orb had grown so bright that it felt as if his eyelids were burning. All Tyrus could make out was Sir Geroth shouting something incomprehensible and Igneal complaining about his eyes.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Fear swelled inside him. One thing that Tyrus dreaded was that he had been carrying around a dangerous object this entire time and would ultimately be the end of everyone nearby. If not that, then they their vision would suffer and never return.

Then, just as the thought of him and his companions going blind, the light faded. Tyrus was able to open his eyes without his skin melting off his face.

"Is it over?" Igneal shouted.

"I think so," Tyrus replied. "The light is gone so you can open your-"

His words got caught in his throat when he looked around. The air that used to be congested with a river of black particles disappeared. Now the entire space was clear and fresh, as if Tyrus had stepped out of a cave. Tyrus's mind drew a blank as he processed the scene, his gaze fixed on the altar.

The black glow around the cube was gone, emitting not even a speck of light. It lied on the altar, as lifeless as a rock. Hovering near it was the mysterious orb, now in possession of the sinister light. Yet not even that persisted as the orb sucked in the dangerous energy like how a person would sip a bowl of stew. Soon, it was back to its regular self.

Sir Geroth, who was standing by in shock, strolled to the orb and snatched it away. He turned and lumbered toward Tyrus and Igneal.

"Who does this belong to?" Sir Geroth demanded.

His forceful tone caught Tyrus off guard, and he unknowingly raised his hand.

"Where did you get this from, young man?"

"I... can't remember. Someday, I found it in my hands a few years ago and kept it close just in case I mustered the courage to sell it somewhere."

"Are you being dishonest with me?"

Tyrus shook his head. "I'm telling the truth. Whenever I try to think back, my head throbs and nothing pops up. So I just gave up on remembering."

Sir Geroth peered at Tyrus for what felt like hours before he sighed. "Apologies for putting you through that test. It was necessary to ensure certain things. I asked you about this because what you currently have in your possession is an artifact. Owning just one of these is worrisome, and stumbling upon two in a single day is as rare as witnessing the birth of a dragon.

"Uh, what-"

The aura around Sir Geroth dissipated, and his stern eyes softened. "I'm afraid I will have to confiscate the orb, along with the other artifact. Any and all artifacts discovered in Lethos are to be sent to Curator Agnese so that she can research them. There we will decide if the artifact is dangerous and if it should be destroyed. If it is not, it will be kept in the treasury."

Something stirred within Tyrus. "...But it's mine, isn't it? I don't want to give it away.

Sir Geroth looked at him with a surprised expression. "And why is that? What could you possibly do with the artifact? From what you told me, you don't have a clue on how you came across it and had no idea how it worked. It's too dangerous for someone as young as you to carry this around, especially when its use is still a mystery."

Tyrus couldn't argue back. The man was right, after all. He could just be rid of the artifact without knowing if it could pose a danger to him. Nevertheless, he remained adamant about not letting go of the one thing that he considered his own. Surprising and odd as it was, it was a treasure he had obtained from a past he could not remember. For some inexplicable reason, something within him was telling him to never part ways with the orb.

Sir Geroth sighed. "If it's compensation you want, I can arrange that with the treasury. His Majesty rewards those who help Lethos and her people. There are other options available other than sil. We can give you a better title, access to certain places like Ironworks or dungeons in Lethos' territory. Emperor Johan is generous with his wealth, young man. An artifact can go as low as a thousand sil, or one hundred royal sil."

Tyrus' knees almost buckled at the mouth-watering opportunities. A thousand sil if he gave away the artifact? He'd be set for life if he managed the money carefully. Not only that, but if he for some reason declined the sil, there were other benefits in the offer. He did not know what Ironworks was or what a dungeon meant, but if Sir Geroth was offering it on the same level as that much sil, then it must be something amazing! What kind of person would he be if he refused?

"...I still want to keep it," Tyrus muttered.

Igneal appeared by his side with the shake of his head. "I've never heard of a commoner refusing money, let alone opportunities presented from the Imperial Palace. Did you not want to become an explorer in order to earn a fortune? You can't turn down the chance to get yourself closer to your goals. Just give him the damn thing already. You can't disobey the law—"

Without warning, the relic began to tremble and vibrate. The sudden movement was so alarming that the trio froze. They stared at the relic as it shook, and it proceeded to levitate once more, yet immediately dashing straight for Tyrus, smacking him against his chest. And as if it had a mind of its own, it forced itself into the storage ring. A silence as unnerving as the relic's behavior ensued.

Suddenly, a sharp sound sliced through the air. A chorus of creaking and groaning soon followed, and the three immediately turned toward the direction of the noise: the tree. Its branches shivered while the circular grooves on the base of its trunk began to open. Black eyes with white pupils blinked slowly.

"I have... awoken? That can only mean that despicable sorcerer has been dealt with."

Taking in the scene, the colossal tree finally noticed the trio situated just a short distance from it. The eyes on the tree focused on the group.

"You three," the tree rumbled. "Are you the ones responsible for getting rid of the sorcerer? I do not feel even a trace of corrupted mana in the air."

Sir Geroth peered at the creature. "A talking tree? Given its size, it must be an Elder Treant and not a regular one. If there's an Elder Treant here, then this must be one of Mevena's sanctuaries."

So it really was an Elder Treant, Tyrus thought. He assumed there was only one of them, but does not seem to be the case. How come Elder Treant, or the one back in Wildwood, never mentioned this to him?

"We'll talk about what happened later," Sir Geroth mentioned. "First, you must be taken to a safer place. I will remain here for the time being and have a little chat with this Elder Treant."

"Taken to a safer place?" Tyrus repeated. "I thought an overseer cannot interfere unless we give up, or the exam is over."

Sir Geroth turned and flashed a smile. "That is because it is over. Zephyr, if you will!"

"As you wish," said a distant voice. "Transport those chosen through the veils of time and space to my envisioned destination."

Then came the familiar nauseous feeling and blurry eyes. His vision blackened, and a weightless feeling befell him. Before he knew it, Tyrus stood in the middle of a large building filled with tables and chairs. He recognized a wide board of papers and a desk with a woman behind it, currently scribbling inside a book.

Tyrus swept his gaze around, face-to-face with a load of eyes staring at him. Immediately, he recoiled and tried to cover himself up, but realized that the enchanted coat wouldn't budge. Did the overseers really have to transport him here in front of everyone? He'd rather be in a room, alone.

"Tyrus!"

Tyrus flinched at the sound of his name, and looked up just in time to see a woman tackle him to the ground. He groaned as soon as his back collided with the hard floor, and looked up, surprised to see Fiona so close to him with misty eyes.

"I'm so glad you're okay! You have no idea how worried we were! Did you pass? Please tell me you passed." Fiona blinked, and as if the situation finally registered in her mind, squinted at Tyrus. "What the... You look terrible! Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention? Where did you go off to? What happened in there?"

Fiona went on and on, firing question after question at Tyrus, who was struggling to process everything at once. He looked around the place and noticed everyone else staring. The awkwardness grew, and Tyrus struggled even harder to make sense of the situation.

"Take it easy," a voice advised. The stern tone was enough to make Tyrus's ears perk. Grant walked up to Fiona and pulled her off Tyrus with one arm.

"S-Sorry, I went a little crazy there," Fiona said with a chuckle.

Grant released his grip on her as she dusted off her coat. Regaining her composure, she gracefully inclined her body and extended her hand to Tyrus, who accepted it with a nod. Tyrus regained his footing and finally had a chance to fully observe the scene. Near the entrance stood Igneal, who had hurriedly made his way to Sir Wayne and requested a bucket of water and a scrub.

Besides that, there were many people watching from the first and second floor. Some wore scowls on their faces, while others had looks of shock. Tyrus felt himself shrinking under the weight of all the attention, but he did his best to ignore them. He locked eyes with Fiona and Grant, focusing on them instead.

With a wide, beaming smile stretching across his face, he raised his hand and gave them a resolute thumbs up. The sound of their surprised gasps barely registered before the world around him transformed into a hazy blur once again. As if his body had suddenly lost all strength, he felt himself slumping to the side, his vision fading into an abyss of darkness.