Volume 02, Chapter 76

Temple du Calice de Convergence [1]

“Haa!” Dominic yawns, stretching his arms upward. “That was a good meal!” He leans back in his seat, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Yeah, talk about a heartfelt meal!” Célestin agrees, patting his stomach dramatically. “Too bad you didn’t eat the Andouillette. You missed out on a unique culinary experience—”

Before he can finish, Dominic's fist shoots out toward him.

With a smirk, Célestin catches his fist mid-air, effortlessly holding Dominic’s hand in place. “Oh, come on, Domy. Don’t be so aggressive. I’m just trying to expand your horizons.”

Dominic glares at him. “Expand my horizons? You tried to make me eat cow parts! Who does that?”

Célestin chuckles, still holding Dominic’s fist as if it were nothing. “Hey, it’s an acquired taste. You’ll thank me someday. Probably not today, but someday.”

Dominic tries to tug his fist free, but Célestin holds firm, his grin widening. “Let go, Célestin, or I swear—”

“Or what? You’ll try to punch me again? I’ll just catch that one too.”

Arthur, sitting across from them, sighs and shakes his head. “You two are like children,” he mutters, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Hey, at least I don’t goad people into eating questionable dishes,” Dominic retorts, finally pulling his hand back.

Célestin raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, no more food jokes… for now. Let’s get going, shall we? Temple du Calice de Convergence!”

Dominic rolls his eyes but stands up, brushing invisible crumbs off his shirt. “Fine, but if you try anything else, I’m throwing you into the nearest Stargate.”

“Promises, promises,” Célestin teases, winking.

Arthur follows them out, shaking his head. ‘This is going to be a long trip,’ he thinks.

“Anyway, do you know the exact location of Temple du Calice de Convergence, Célestin?” Dominic asks, his tone casual, though a hint of curiosity flickers in his eyes.

The truth is, Dominic doesn’t know. The web novel, *A Magician’s Path*, had never mentioned the temple's exact location, only that it was somewhere in the Misty Peaks Region. But Célestin, a regressor with firsthand experience, is the perfect person to ask.

Célestin’s eyes widen for a split second. He quickly masks it, turning it into his usual smirk, but Dominic catches the flicker of surprise.

Walking beside them, Arthur doesn’t seem to notice, though Dominic can’t be entirely sure. He doesn’t know how much Arthur knows.

Célestin raises an eyebrow and smirks confidently. “Oh, I know where it is, alright! I’ve been there before! Easy.”

Dominic nods, though his sharp gaze lingers on Célestin a moment longer.

Arthur, who has been quietly observing the two, finally speaks up. “If you’ve been there before, why don’t you give us some insight? What’s the terrain and the temple like? Should we prepare for anything specific?”

Célestin turns to Arthur with a playful grin, clearly relishing the attention. “Oh, it’s a mix of rocky cliffs, dense forests, and foggy trails. Pretty standard Misty Peaks terrain—beautiful but tricky if you’re not careful.”

Arthur’s gaze doesn’t waver, and his tone remains calm but firm. “And the temple itself? What are we up against?”

Célestin pauses for a moment, stroking his chin in mock thought. “Well, you’ve got your typical stuff—dart-shooting walls, collapsing floors, the works. But the real challenge? The Hall of Illusions.”

Dominic tilts his head, his brow furrowing. “The Hall of Illusions?”

Célestin’s grin fades slightly, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Yeah. It’s not just some trap—it’s THE trap. A chamber designed to mess with your head. It creates vivid hallucinations, and you can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. And here’s the kicker—it doesn’t just throw random stuff at you. No, this thing digs deep into your memories, fears, and things you’ve buried.”

Dominic feels a chill creep up his spine but pushes it down. “Hallucinations that dig into your memories…” he repeats softly.

Arthur’s expression grows more focused, his arms crossing as he presses further. “What happens if you get caught in these hallucinations?”

Célestin sighs, his usual carefree demeanor gone entirely. “You freeze. You’re trapped in your mind, paralyzed. The longer you stay trapped, the more your body shuts down. It’s… not pretty. You won't make it out alive if you’re not strong enough to face what it shows.”

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A heavy silence falls over them, the gravity of his words settling like the mist that swirls around their feet.

Dominic swallows hard, his thoughts racing. ‘What kind of hallucinations would it show me? Would it show my memories from Earth? The life I left behind? Or would it show Dominic’s buried secrets? Either option is unsettling.’

“And you? You’ve been through it before. How did you escape?” Arthur asks.

Célestin chuckles, though the sound is hollow. “Me? Oh, you know me—I’m too stubborn to let illusions mess with my head. I’ve been through worse. The Hall of Illusions is tough, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Dominic sighs softly. ‘This would be hard…but I must do this!’ he thought.

“Alright,” Arthur says, his tone neutral, “but if this is as dangerous as you say, we’ll need a plan. We can’t just walk in blindly.”

“Relax, Lyon,” Célestin says, his smirk returning. “I’ve got it all figured out. Stick with me, and we’ll be fine.”

Dominic adjusts the strap of his bag and nods. “Let’s just get there first. We’ll deal with the rest when the time comes.”

Arthur and Célestin nod in agreement.

“Let’s find a taxi, then,” Arthur suggests, his voice steady as he scans the bustling streets of Veilopolis.

The three begin walking through the cobblestone streets, passing by locals and tourists alike. The soft glow of lanterns and the enchanting architecture of the city are almost enough to distract Dominic from the tension brewing within him.

After a while, they spot a small row of taxis parked near the market square. One of the drivers, a middle-aged man with a graying beard and a cap tilted jauntily on his head, notices them and waves.

“Bonjour, gentlemen,” the driver greets as they approach. “Where to?”

Dominic hesitates, unsure how to phrase their destination, but before he can say anything, Célestin steps forward with his usual confident grin.

“Just follow my instructions, Mr. Driver,” Célestin says smoothly, flashing a friendly smile.

The driver raises an eyebrow, clearly confused by the vague request, but he shrugs after a moment’s pause. “Okay then. Hop in.”

The three of them climb into the taxi, with Célestin taking the front seat while Dominic and Arthur sit in the back. The driver starts the engine, and the car hums softly as it moves through the winding streets of Veilopolis.

“So, where to first?” the driver asks, glancing at Célestin in the passenger seat.

“Head out toward the city's northern exit,” Célestin instructs, leaning back casually in his seat. “I’ll guide you from there.”

Dominic glances at Arthur, who raises a questioning brow but says nothing. Arthur has grown used to Célestin’s ways but still finds them irksome.

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The taxi comes to a halt at the edge of the forest. The mist hangs low, clinging to the gnarled trees that mark the entrance to the wilderness. The air is noticeably colder here, and the forest seems alive with whispers from the gentle wind.

Célestin hops out of the taxi and turns to the driver with a casual grin. “Thanks for the ride, sir. Keep the change.” He hands over a generous amount of Camilliums, leaving the driver smiling brightly.

“Merci beaucoup,” the driver says, tipping his hat before leaving the three standing at the forest’s edge.

Dominic adjusts his bag again, his gaze drifting to the dense forest before them. The mist curls around the trees like ghostly tendrils, obscuring the path ahead.

“This is it?” Dominic asks.

Célestin smirks, already taking a step forward. “This is the starting point. The temple is deeper inside, so stick close and not get lost.”

Arthur glances at Dominic, his expression wary. “Let’s stay alert.”

Dominic nods, gripping the straps of his bag a little tighter. “Right.”

They follow Célestin into the forest, the crunch of their footsteps muffled by the soft, mossy ground. The towering trees loom above them, their branches forming a canopy that blocks much of the light.

The further they venture, the thicker the mist becomes, swirling around them in an almost hypnotic dance.

Célestin leads the way confidently, occasionally brushing aside low-hanging branches or ducking under thick vines. “Stay close,” he calls over his shoulder. “The forest has a way of playing tricks on people who wander too far apart.”

Dominic glances nervously at the surrounding mist, feeling the weight of Célestin’s warning. It is not just the eerie atmosphere—something about the forest feels alive as if it is watching them.

“Do you think there are traps here, too?” Arthur asks, his voice low.

“Not in the forest itself,” Célestin replies, his tone casual. “The temple is where the real fun begins. But do not let your guard down. The creatures around here do not exactly roll out the welcome mat.”

Dominic’s stomach tightens at the thought. His eyes dart around the forest, scanning for movement among the trees. Every crack of a twig or rustle of leaves sets his nerves on edge.

As they navigate the winding trails, the mist grows thicker, further obscuring their vision. At one point, Dominic stumbles over a protruding root, only for Arthur to catch his arm and steady him.

“Watch your step,” Arthur says, his tone gentler than chiding.

“Thanks,” Dominic mutters, brushing himself off. He feels a pang of guilt as he looks at Arthur, knowing the weight of unspoken questions lingers between them.

After hours of navigating the maze-like forest, the mist begins to thin slightly, revealing the faint outline of something massive in the distance.

“We are here!” Célestin announces, his voice laced with excitement.

Dominic pushes aside a low-hanging branch, and his breath catches in his throat.

Before them stands the Temple du Calice de Convergence. It is awe-inspiring and ancient, its immense stone entrance flanked by weathered pillars engraved with intricate runes that glow faintly in the dim light. Vines and bioluminescent moss cling to the walls, casting an ethereal, green-blue glow that seems to pulse gently, as if alive.

The temple’s towering facade is adorned with carvings of mythical creatures—dragons, griffins, and serpents—all locked in eternal battle. A grand staircase leads up to the entrance, its steps worn smooth by the passage of countless years.

Arthur lets out a low whistle. “Now that is something.”

Dominic cannot help but nod in agreement. The sight of the temple stirs something within him—an odd mixture of awe and foreboding. This place is no mere ruin; it is alive with history, magic, and danger.

Célestin turns to face them, his grin wider than ever. “Impressive, huh? But do not let it fool you. The temple’s beauty is just a facade for what is inside. Ready to test your courage?”

Dominic swallows hard but nods. “Let us do this.”

Arthur adjusts his bag, his expression determined. “Lead the way, Célestin. But do not get cocky.”

Célestin smirks and returns toward the temple, ascending the first few steps. “Do not worry, Lyon. I will keep it professional—mostly.”

Dominic and Arthur exchange a glance before following him up the stairs. The air grows colder with each step, and the faint hum of magic resonates in their ears. The Temple du Calice de Convergence awaits, its secrets buried deep within.