The rift closed behind Iris, who paid no attention to it. She surveyed the grand hall she found herself in; its cool air and light atmosphere cleared her heart, which had been wildly beating since she entered this pocket reality. She never knew that the treasury resided in a pocket dimension.

If only she could be here with her lovers. Unfortunately, Parmin and Morbi were too busy.

“I might not be able to restrain myself if I go in,” Parmin said, but she refused to elaborate, insisting that Iris witnessed it herself.

Now Iris understood why. Before her lay countless eminent treasures, whose auras faintly shone, amassing into a river of illumination. The tide rose and fell in intensity as dust-covered Artefacts revealed their slumbering glimmers.

This sight burned into her mind. It reminded her of that hall of rewards within Puppeteer Legacy Ground. Though not as grand, this treasury wouldn’t lose out in its splendour.

Antina waved her hand in front of the stunned Iris.

“Mother has prepared much before she established Court of Indulgence,” Antina said. “She used to roam this continent unrestrained, played with hearts of maidens innocent, and explored all depths untouched.”

Antina’s eyes misted. She looked at this grand hall, which was held up by mossed stone pillars, decorated by green vines with multi-coloured flowers blooming on them. The cracks on the tiled floor and high ceiling prompted her of the olden time, of adventures which, although she herself hadn’t the privilege to experience them, coursed through her memory with vivid imagery.

Iris inched closer to Antina and waved her hand in front of her.

“To accumulate this amount of wealth, your mother is too incredible,” she said. “If you don’t mind, Antina, could you tell me a little about her adventure?”

“I . . . Mother always tells me not to reveal her secrets, but I rarely listen.” Antina grinned. “You’re her favourite, Iris. She hasn’t been interested in anyone since Ludmint.”

“She’s helped me through my worst; you, too, were there.”

“We tested you. We took advantage of your challenge, yet you prevailed, and you prevailed with the best possible outcome.”

“Praise me too much, and I’ll start blushing.”

“Mother has never forbidden me from indulging in myself.” Antina coyly tilted her head. “My heart is still that of a Monster Girl, like you, Lady Iris.”

Antina’s voice vibrated and diffused in this soundless atmosphere, where the slightest breathing reverberated between rows of shelves and pillars. The lush greenery provided natural coverage, which softened and obscured all actions.

This world belonged to Iris and Antina, alone and free, unrestrained and unseen. If they wanted, they could do anything, anywhere, and anytime.

Too exciting.

Iris inhaled a long puff of scented air; she shouldn’t have played with fire. Antina took after her mother after all.

“That would be inappropriate; the treasury is a sacred place. I must maintain the respect it deserves.”

“Mother wouldn’t mind. This place is hers, and I’m a part of her.”

“I would mind. If . . . if we did anything here, I wouldn’t be able to come here again. The shame would kill me.”

“Then we’ll stay here until you no longer mind it.”

Iris averted her eyes and surveyed the surroundings. The shimmering light caught her attention but failed to hold it. Despite their precious value, they all blended with each other, standing out only from the orange lantern glows.

“This overwhelming amount of choices paralyses me. Could you help me find what suits me?”

“You could’ve divined your connection with these Artefacts. Your Cards of Destiny have always been the symbol of your influence.”

Though Iris’s true achievement lay in surviving all-suppressing crises, the rest of The Court knew nothing of them. Aside from a few instances where she personally acted, her reputation came from her prophetic schemes and divination. Her Cards of Destiny prevented many of the accidents during the operations.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” she said. “I can save others, but not myself. The Cards of Destiny can predict minor faults, but any game that involves great beings, like you, Antina, is too sophisticated for them.”

“You too have become a great being, the only one that those cards can understand.”

Iris sighed. “What if I wish for you to guide me?”

“Then I shall guide you to the best of my ability.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Antina took Iris’s hand and stepped forth. The sound of her footsteps dissipated into various cracks, producing tones that harmonised into barely audible music. Her rhythm, although varied, stayed within the calming range, where Iris needed not exert herself to follow.

She understood that Iris, beneath her healthy countenance, was plagued by unquenchable exhaustion. This curse permeated her soul and seeped out noiselessly through her steady yet hoarse tone.

Antina picked up an ashen-wooded wand with a crescent-shaped emerald as its head and delicately played with it. Her thumb pressed against the gem, which quivered as her Corruption Power seeped inside it. Pinkish mist emanated from it, covering her figure.

“Mother got this wand from the far-east side of the continent, from an unnamed ruin, a tower of an ancient Grandmaster.” Antina handed it to Iris. “It deals with illusion and dream. Is it good enough?”

Iris waved it above her head. A swamp of yellow dandelions rained about her, each one dispersing as a pink mist as they fell on the ground. Her Corruption Power guided the mist, morphing them into various flowers and shapes, though they couldn’t quite create the lifelike scenery she envisioned.

“It would’ve been great if this were a Legendary Artefact.”

“We could try to upgrade it.”

Iris shook her head. “This isn’t the risk The Court should take.”

“You’re worth it.”

“If there truly existed no other solution, would you have shown me the wand as an Artefact?”

“We’ll help you if you so desire it.”

“I trust you more than myself.”

Iris placed back the wand and followed Antina. She went past multiple Artefacts of various origins, from the highest north to the lowest south, from the depth of the ocean to the peak of the mountain. All represented unique adventures, retold vaguely through Antina, who too wished to experience it first-hand.

Scattered as pieces atemporal, the stories floated in Iris’s mind, but she couldn’t connect them into a timeline. The timespan was too huge, the detail too blurry. She couldn’t get Antina to divulge more than necessary.

“We all have embarrassing moments we would never tell anyone.” Antina chuckled. “Mother is no exception. She has experienced a wide range of life, including joy and sadness, awe and shame.”

“What she knows, you know.”

“She told me more than she should . . . but she didn’t tell me everything.”

Antina came to a halt in front of a vine-covered altar, where countless melted candles grew like mushrooms on a decaying trunk. On its peak rested a pocket-sized circular plate, untouched by vines, untainted by dust. Its clean appearance formed a divide between itself and reality, a layer of unreal barriers separating the two worlds.

Iris laid her eyes on it; her heart airily pulsated. Compared to the few Legendary Artefacts before this—the spear of spatial distortion, the veil of all-assimilating light, and the ring of spiritual chaos—only this one could resonate with her soul.

Its wistful allure affected her, permeated her, and persisted around her. Its silent power flared in her realm of consciousness, where Nupian’s curse took hold.

These two powers clashed and tore the landscape apart. Disorder thoughts flooded Iris’s head. She winced, yet she flashed a pleasant smile, a lovely expression plagued with insanity.

Her vision alternated between a pink world of candy-like forest and a vast ocean filled with gigantic creatures. The sweet scent of love fused with the salty stench of dread. A cool breeze glided her skin before chilly laughter echoed in her ears.

Despite knowing they were mere dreams, she still felt physical pain.

Antina clapped her hands. Her Corruption Power blasted outwards, creating black symbols to form a barrier between Iris and the plate. She then covered Iris’s eyes and blew at her.

Her flowery breath shattered the dream, pulling Iris back to reality. Her human disguise melted off, and her Slime appearance dulled. She kept panting out her slime.

“Tell The Founder . . . I’ve received her gift.” Iris wiped her drool but couldn’t wipe the persistent smile off her face. “I could never wish for such an awesome gift.”

Antina retracted her hand and frowned. Her mother didn’t foresee this. No one could foresee such a violent reaction, both from the Artefact and from Iris.

“We should return, Iris. In your current state, any spiritual wound may prove fatal.”

“Your words would’ve rung true if it weren’t for that wonderful plate.”

“If we knew that thing would harm you, we wouldn’t have kept it.”

“Do you think I’m insane?”

“I think your smile is insane.”

Iris covered her mouth, took a deep breath, and uncovered it. She was no longer smiling, though the corners of her mouth still curved up. “What about now?”

“I . . . I don’t know. Why do you have to choose the painful path?”

“Is there any other path?” Iris looked at a massive symbol obstructing the plate from her view. Her eyes sharpened. “That Artefact can resist Nupian’s power.”

“How could that be?” Even Mother was apprehensive of Nupian. “Although the Artefact is special, its rank is still Legendary.”

The separation between a Legendary Artefact and a True Artefact was as wide as between a Grandmaster and a True Master.

“You chose it for me; it must be special.”

Iris reached for the altar. The circular plate flung itself into her hand, which visibly trembled. Midnight-blue lines seeped from the plate into Iris’s arm, invading her membrane. She expressed no pain, but the undercurrent of her Corruption Power revealed the concealed chaos.

Antina wished to intervene, but she didn’t have the right to. She could only watch as Iris subjugated the Legendary Artefact while her body melted and reformed and splattered and consolidated.

Iris was hurting herself, yet there was no other way, not without relinquishing her control to luck.

Iris knew this and took advantage of it.

“If you want to compensate me, please tell me the artefact’s origin.”

“Why must you trap me?”

“I’ve always been devious.”

Antina flicked her wrist. A yellowish scroll slid out of her sleeve and flew, gently yet firmly, towards Iris, who caught and unfurled it. There was no hesitation in both of them. What should happen would happen.

“Tell The Founder I forced you.” Iris studied the map, which showed a group of islands structured in a complex formation.

With a menacing whirlpool at its centre, the islands spiralled out of the page, their landmass extending beyond the horizon. Between them, star-shaped underwater rifts divided the ocean of unknown depth from an even deeper abyss.

“Another ruin from Yilon Archipelago,” Iris said.

“It isn’t in Yilon. Mother came across it in the east while she was on a date, but its entrance is everchanging. She hasn’t found it since.”

“Not even The Founder could find it?”

“Only those destined could find it.” Antina stared at Iris, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll eagerly await your next feat.”

“Would you permit me to travel the continent?”

“Would you do it, if you were me?”

Everyone knew the answer. “Then, could you tell me the name of this Artefact?”

“Memorial Chart, drawn from the revolution of the stars, for the revolution of the mind.”

Iris looked at Memorial Chart in her hand. Her clouded eyes brightened, though the thought within them eluded all but Iris herself.