Volume 02, Chapter 77

Temple du Calice de Convergence [2]

The hallway of the Temple du Calice de Convergence is as breathtaking as it is eerie. The walls are made of smooth, black stone that shimmers faintly, as if infused with starlight. Intricate carvings of patterns and glyphs run along the walls, glowing softly with hues of blue and silver.

The floor is tiled with polished obsidian, reflecting the faint glow of the glyphs above. Enchanted sconces line the walls, casting a pale, flickering light that dances like ghostly flames.

Massive stone arches support the ceiling, their surfaces etched with depictions of mythical battles and rituals. Every detail seems meticulously crafted. Vines with glowing leaves hang from some of the arches.

“I just realized something… How come geologists or Magitists have never found this place?” Arthur mutters, his voice breaking the reverent silence.

I nod in agreement. The Temple du Calice de Convergence was described in Dominic’s web novel as an ancient marvel, yet it does not make sense that no one has uncovered it. With Sylvestria’s magi-tech advancements, finding a place like this should have been straightforward. So why has it remained hidden for so long?

Célestin shrugs casually, his hands resting behind his head. “I do not know. But knowing those geologists and Magitists, they probably see this place as a fancy building with no historical significance. Half the time, they rely on written records to guide their searches, and this temple does not have much PR.”

He pauses and gestures to the glowing runes on the walls. “Besides, this place does not appear in any of King Charlemagne’s diaries.”

Arthur frowns, his brow furrowing as he processes the information. “The former King of Verdant Haven…”

“Yep,” Célestin continues. “The guy wrote extensively about his expeditions and the historical landmarks he encountered during his reign but did not mention this temple. Makes you wonder, does it not?”

I cannot help but feel a growing sense of unease. Why did Dominic’s web novel mention it so vividly if the temple was not documented in historical records? And, more importantly, why is it hidden so well?

“Maybe it is hidden by some sort of magic,” I suggest, my voice quiet. “Something that keeps it off their radar.”

Célestin smirks, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Maybe. Or maybe it is just waiting for the right people to find it.”

Arthur does not respond, his gaze drifting to the glowing carvings on the walls. “Whatever the reason, we are here now. Let us not waste the opportunity.”

Célestin grins and claps his hands together. “Exactly! Come on, let us keep moving. The real fun is just getting started.”

—Rumble!

All of a sudden, the floor beneath us begins to tremble violently.

“Crap!” I shout, struggling to steady my balance as the ground beneath my feet shifts unpredictably.

“Now, this is what I call fun!” Célestin exclaims, his voice filled with far too much excitement for the situation.

“How the hell is this fun!?” Arthur shoots back, his voice filled with panic as he tries to maintain his footing.

“What is wrong, Lyon? Scared?” Célestin teases with a mischievous grin.

—Rumble!

Another violent tremor rips through the floor, and this time, we cannot react in time. The ground gives way entirely, and we plummet into the dark abyss below.

“Ahhh!” I yell as I fall, the sensation of weightlessness making my stomach lurch.

“Doms!” Arthur’s voice cuts through the chaos.

I see him reaching out for me, his hand outstretched, desperate to grab hold of mine. Beside him, Célestin is falling too—though he seems to be enjoying himself far too much.

“Woohoo!” Célestin whoops, his carefree laughter echoing as he falls beside us.

I ignore Célestin’s absurd excitement and focus on Arthur, who is trying to reach me. I stretch my arm out as far as I can, our fingers brushing briefly before finally locking together.

“Got you!” Arthur says firmly, intertwining his fingers with mine before pulling me closer.

“Ah, look at the two pretty best frien—” Célestin starts, but his teasing is abruptly cut off when a massive stone wall slides between us, separating him from us mid-fall.

“Célestin!” I call out, but there is no response.

I can only hope he will be fine—after all, this is Célestin we are talking about.

“Doms, focus!” Arthur shouts, snapping me back to reality.

I look down and see the ground rushing toward us at an alarming speed—my heart races. We are falling too fast.

“Crap, we have no landing strategy!” I yell, panic setting in.

My mind scrambles for a solution. Should I activate Shielded Aura? I could cushion my fall, but what about Arthur? He would be vulnerable.

“Doms, hang on! I have got a plan!” Arthur’s voice is calm and commanding, cutting through my panic.

I look at him, his face steady and filled with confidence. His assurance eases my nerves, and I nod without hesitation. “Alright, I am trusting you!”

Arthur pulls me closer, securing me as he raises his free hand toward the rapidly approaching ground. “Avalon’s Blast!”

A brilliant light erupts from Arthur’s palm as three beams of golden energy shoot toward the ground below us. The beams do not just strike—they spread out like anchors, radiating with magical energy. As they make contact, their impact generates an immense wave of light that slows the velocity of our fall.

The force of the light beams pushes against the ground, creating a cushion of energy that counteracts gravity’s pull. Our descent slows significantly, and instead of crashing into the stone floor, we glide downward like feathers caught in a soft breeze.

The energy dissipates when our feet finally touch the ground.

I take a shaky breath, and my legs feel jelly from the adrenaline. “That… was close.”

Arthur releases me, standing tall and steady as if nothing has happened. He turns to me with a slight smirk. “Told you I had a strategy.”

I stare at him, momentarily speechless. “Okay, I will admit it—you saved my ass there.”

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Arthur shrugs casually, though I can see his expression's faintest hint of pride. “What are best friends for?”

I cannot help but smile, though the relief is short-lived. My gaze flicks toward the towering wall that separates us from Célestin.

“But what about Célestin? He is on the other side of that wall!”

Arthur frowns, his confidence faltering for a moment. “We will figure it out. First, let us determine where we are.”

I nod, my mind racing. This temple will not make things easy for us—and we are just getting started.

“So, where are we?” I mutter, scanning my surroundings. The faint flicker of torchlight casts long, dancing shadows on the stone walls.

It is another hallway, eerily quiet and ancient. The torches lining the walls burn steadily, but their glow feels cold, almost lifeless, adding an unsettling atmosphere to the ominous setting.

“This is creepy,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, but we do not have much of a choice. We have got to keep moving forward,” Arthur says, his tone firm but low, as if not wanting to disturb the oppressive silence.

I nod in agreement. As much as this place unsettles me, standing still will not help either. We start walking down the hallway, our footsteps echoing faintly against the stone floor.

But then, an uneasy feeling creeps over me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Without thinking, I extend my arm, stopping Arthur in his tracks.

“What is wrong, Doms?” he asks, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Wait,” I whisper, narrowing my eyes as I focus on the ground ahead. “I sense something… off.”

Kneeling, I examine the floor carefully. At first glance, there is nothing unusual—just ancient, cracked stones. But then, I see it. A faint glimmer, almost invisible, barely catching the torchlight.

“There,” I mutter, pointing at a near-invisible thread stretched across the width of the hallway. It is so faint that anyone walking normally would have missed it entirely.

Arthur crouches beside me, his brows furrowing. “A tripwire?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice tense. “It is hard to notice unless you are specifically looking for it. Whoever designed this temple knew how to hide their traps.”

Arthur reaches out carefully, his fingers hovering just above the tripwire. “Odd,” he murmurs. “There is no magical energy radiating from this trap. It is entirely mechanical.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Mechanical? So, it is not powered by Mana?”

Arthur nods, his expression thoughtful. “Exactly. Most traps in places like this would rely on some sort of magical mechanism—enchanted pressure plates, Mana-triggered glyphs. But this one… it is purely physical.”

I lean back, processing his words. “That is unexpected. If it is mechanical, it means the designers of this temple did not just want to challenge Magicians—they wanted to challenge anyone, even those without Mana. Manaless people like me, Magicians like you… no one is safe.”

Arthur presses his lips into a thin line as he withdraws his hand from the tripwire. “It also means we will need to be even more cautious. If this temple relies on mechanical traps, it will be harder to detect them.”

I exhale deeply, nodding. “Right. Let us be extra careful from here on out.”

We both stand, our senses on high alert.

We start walking again, each step cautious as we scan for further traps. But then, as I take another step—

-Click!

I freeze. The sound of a pressure plate being triggered sends a jolt of panic through me.

“Crap…” I mutter, my heart racing.

“Doms!” Arthur shouts.

-Rumble!

The walls on either side of the hallway tremble, grinding as they slowly move inward. Dust and small debris fall from the ceiling as the ancient mechanism activates.

I swallow hard. The walls are closing in—and fast. Crap, we are going to be squashed like bugs!

Acting instinctively, I swing my backpack off my shoulder and quickly retrieve my guns. My hands tremble as I aim at the nearest wall.

Bang! Bang!

The bullets strike the surface with loud, echoing impacts, but to my horror, the walls show no signs of damage—no cracks, no dents, not even a scratch.

"Seriously!?" I yell in frustration.

"Avalon’s Blast!" Arthur’s voice rings out.

I turn just in time to see Arthur extend his hand, conjuring and firing three radiant beams of light straight at the walls.

Boom!

The beams collide with the stone in a dazzling explosion, sending smoke and debris flying through the narrow hallway. I shield my eyes from the blast, coughing as the acrid smell of singed air fills the space.

When the dust finally settles, I look up, hopeful—but the walls remain utterly intact, unscathed by Arthur’s powerful magic.

"What the hell are these walls made of?" I mutter.

The grinding sound grows louder as the walls continue to inch closer. There is no stopping them, no slowing them down.

I step back, only to feel Arthur’s back pressing against mine. I can hear his labored breathing, and I sense a hint of resignation in his voice for the first time since I met him.

"Haa..." Arthur sighs, his tone calm yet resigned. "Well... it was nice knowing you... Clark."

His words hit me like a thunderclap. My body freezes, the panic in my chest momentarily replaced by shock. I turn my head slightly, barely able to process what he said.

Clark.

He said my name. Not "Dominic." Not "Doms." Clark.

"How..." I stammer, my voice trembling. "How did you know?"

Arthur does not respond right away. His shoulders stiffen against mine, and for a moment, I think he will not answer. But then, he speaks, his voice low and steady.

"I overheard you and Célestin," he admits, his words hanging heavy in the confined space. "At the camp... I heard everything."

My breath catches in my throat, the walls closing in on us now feeling like a secondary threat compared to the weight of Arthur’s revelation.

"You... heard everything?" I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper.

My mind races, a storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Shame, guilt, fear—they all churn within me, mixing into a tangled mess.

Arthur does not turn to face me, his gaze fixed on the relentless walls inching closer, but his voice remains steady. "Yeah. I know you are not the Dominic I grew up with. I know you are... Clark."

His calm delivery only makes the moment heavier and more surreal. This is not anger or accusation—it is something deeper, something harder to face. I do not know how to respond, so I do not. I cannot.

The grinding noise of the walls fills the silence between us, a cruel reminder that time is running out. Yet, neither of us moves, frozen in the moment's weight.

"I should have said something earlier," Arthur continues, his tone softer now, laced with something I cannot quite place—disappointment? Regret? "But I... I could not. I did not want to believe it. I did not want to believe that the best friend I have known my whole life was gone."

His words pierce me, sharper than any trap this temple could have conjured. I clench my fists, my heart pounding harder than ever. I want to say something, explain, defend myself—but what can I say? How can I justify taking over Dominic’s life, relationships, and future?

"I did not choose this," I mutter, my voice hoarse. "I did not want this, Arthur."

For the first time, Arthur turns his head slightly, just enough that I can see his profile. "Then why did you not tell me? Why did you pretend to be him all this time?"

The walls are dangerously close now, the grinding sound deafening, but I barely notice. All I can focus on is Arthur—on the hurt in his voice, the pain I have caused him.

"Because I did not know how!" I burst out, my voice cracking. "How do you tell someone that their best friend—the person they have trusted their whole life—is gone? How do you tell them that a stranger has taken their place?"

Arthur’s jaw tightens, his silence cutting deeper than any words could.

I take a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. "I did not want to hurt you, Arthur. I did not want to hurt anyone. I just... I did not have a choice. I woke up in this body, in this life, and I... I tried to make the best of it."

Arthur does not respond right away. His gaze drops to the ground, his shoulders slumping slightly. "You could have told me," he says quietly. "I would have understood. Maybe not right away, but I would have tried."

The vulnerability in his voice shatters whatever resolve I have left. "Arthur, I am sorry," I whisper, my throat tight. "I am so, so sorry."

Before he can respond, the walls let out an ear-splitting clang as they shift closer, jolting us back to the immediate danger.

Arthur straightens up, his expression hardening. "We will talk about this later. Right now, we need to survive."

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. Whatever lingering emotions hang between us will have to wait. Survival comes first.

-Crack!

Suddenly, the sound of stone breaking echoes above us, pulling my attention skyward.

I look up, and there he is—Célestin, crouched confidently on the edge of the opening he has just created. Dust and debris swirl around him, his signature smirk plastered across his face like he has just won a competition none of us knew existed.

"Sup?" he says casually, as though the walls are not moments away from crushing us.

I blink, momentarily stunned by his sheer audacity. "Célestin!?"

Arthur sighs heavily beside me, his expression a mixture of relief and exasperation. "It took you long enough."

Célestin chuckles, brushing imaginary dust off his oversized sky-blue shirt. "What? You thought I would let you two have all the fun? I just wanted to see how long it would take before you started panicking."

I glare up at him, my heart still racing from the life-or-death situation we were in just moments ago. "Panicking? We were about to become pancakes, and you are up there making jokes?"

"Relax, Dominic," he says with a wink, casually extending a hand toward us. "I had it all under control. Now, grab on before the walls get any friendlier."

Arthur does not waste a second, leaping up and catching Célestin’s hand. I hesitate, still rattled by the near-death experience, but quickly reach for his other hand.

With surprising strength, Célestin pulls us up and out of the trap, his smug grin never faltering. "See? Easy peasy."

I roll my eyes as I dust myself off, my heart finally beginning to settle. "Yes, easy for you to say. Next time, perhaps do not wait until the last second to save us?"

Célestin shrugs, clearly unbothered. "Where is the fun in that?"

Arthur shakes his head, muttering something about reckless friends, but I catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Even though I want to strangle Célestin for his timing, I cannot deny the relief flooding me. We are alive, and for now, that is enough.