Chapter 181: Ruins [2]

"Cadet Elisha. Have a cup," I said, holding it out to her.

She stopped. Her eyes lit up at the smell, but she flinched when she looked at me, her guard instantly going back up. She slowly reached out and took the cup.

"...The color is different from the one in the carriage," she noted suspiciously.

"It’s a different blend."

"Is it actually an illegal stimulant this time?"

"It’s coffee."

This girl, honestly.

Elisha took a cautious sip. Her eyes widened, and her tense expression noticeably softened. The fatigue-recovery effects kicked in instantly, bringing some color back to her pale face. She looked at me, then primly turned her head away, handing the empty cup back.

"...Thanks."

If that calmed her nerves, good.

"Let’s keep moving."

As I disabled a few more tripwires and pressed deeper into the corridor, I couldn’t hide my growing anticipation. Was I excited because I had smoothed things over with Elisha? Absolutely not.

I was excited because I knew exactly what was hidden inside the Aethelgard Empire’s ruins.

According to the game’s lore, there were five ultimate elemental artifacts scattered across the continent—treasures forged from the primordial forces of Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, and Void. They were simply known as the ’Primordial Five.’

One of them lay beneath this exact desert.

[Sixth Sense (Lv. 3) detects an overwhelmingly powerful force ahead!]

In the original storyline, the owners of the Primordial Five were the ones who survived the apocalyptic late-game disasters. If possible, I needed to secure it for myself. That was the real reason I had accepted Elisha’s invitation to this miserable border camp.

But as I stared at the massive, intricate murals lining the walls, a problem arose.

I couldn’t actually read the ancient text to pinpoint the vault’s location. The game didn’t just hand you a dialogue box with directions.

’Wait.’

My [Sixth Sense] pulsed, subtly drawing my attention inward. I realized I had been hoarding System Points from my recent dungeon clears and the Wraith fight upstairs.

I opened the System Shop interface in my mind and rapidly scrolled through the utility skills. I found exactly what I needed. An AI-type deciphering skill.

[Purchased: Akashic Translator (Lv. 1)]

[5000 Points Deducted.]

I looked back at the wall. The incomprehensible Aethelgard runes suddenly shifted, their meanings translating directly into my brain.

’It’s here. It’s exactly down this path.’

The Primordial Earth artifact was waiting.

"That’s strange," Elisha suddenly spoke up, breaking my train of thought.

"What is?"

"This place is completely full of mechanical traps, but there are no monsters patrolling the halls," she pointed out, her archer’s eyes scanning the shadows. "In a high-density, mana-isolated environment abandoned for thousands of years, mutant golems or undead should naturally spawn."

I smiled faintly. There was no reason I couldn’t share this piece of lore.

"It’s because this isn’t just a tomb. It’s a sanctuary. A panic room prepared for a great being in case the empire fell."

I pointed my torch at the glowing lines carved into the floor and ceiling.

"Why do you think ancient ruins are always covered in murals and inscriptions? Magic requires a medium to activate. Modern mages use small, efficient magic circles. Ancient civilizations used massive murals and entire architectural layouts. The drawings, the language, the exact dimensions of this corridor—the entire ruin is one massive, self-sustaining protective ward that repels random monster spawns."

"The entire ruin is a single spell?" Elisha breathed, her eyes widening in realization. "...You’re right. That’s the only logical reason it’s so perfectly preserved after two thousand years."

But she quickly caught the flaw in that logic.

"Wait. If the ruin actively repels intruders and monsters, what was the quicksand that dragged us down here?"

"It was an entrance mechanism," I said, my voice dropping. "One that only the ruin’s master knows how to trigger."

Someone had intentionally let us in.

Realizing the terrifying implication, Elisha’s expression grew completely grave. She gripped her bow tightly.

"Let’s go," I said, drawing the Reaver shotgun. "It’s time to meet the fallen lord of the ancient empire."

We advanced another hundred yards until the corridor abruptly opened up.

At the end of the path stood a massive pair of golden doors. They were the central catalyst for the entire ruin’s magic, and they were standing wide open.

We stepped through the doors and into a breathtaking, cavernous throne room.

Sitting alone on a massive stone throne at the far end of the hall was a gaunt, mummified corpse. Resting perfectly on its withered skull was a pointed crown forged of jagged gold and glowing, deep-brown earthen crystals.

’That’s the Primordial Earth Crown.’

It was the ultimate artifact capable of commanding the desert sands and summoning legions of earth constructs.

The problem was, in the game’s lore, the owners of the Primordial Five were usually catastrophic villains. The fallen lord sitting on that throne was no exception.

I needed to secure that crown immediately.

Honestly, I was fully prepared to load one of Merle’s ultra-expensive, high-explosive gem rounds right now. The supposed villain of this current arc, Senior Cadet Leon? Hah. Leon was a pathetic joke, a minor hurdle driven by an inferiority complex. Compared to the monster sitting on that throne, Leon was less than the dirt under my boots. Leon would eventually self-destruct without me even lifting a finger.

But the Aethelgard Regent was different. In the original timeline, this undead lord was a disaster-class entity. If I didn’t kill it and take its power now, it would become a nightmare later.

"Cadet Elisha," I said, keeping my eyes locked on the throne.

"Yes?"

"Prepare for a boss fight."

The moment I stepped further into the hall, the ambient mana spiked violently. The loose sand coating the floor began to swirl, rapidly gathering and forming into dozens of towering Desert Wraiths draped in tattered rags.

I didn’t hesitate. I aimed the shotgun directly at the mummified lord and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The armor-piercing slug tore through the air.

It never reached the throne. A massive, localized wall of hyper-compressed sand erupted from the floor, intercepting the bullet. The slug flattened against the sand like it had hit solid titanium.

The gaunt corpse on the throne slowly raised its head. The glowing earthen crystals in the crown flared to life, illuminating the empty, pitch-black voids of its eye sockets.

The Regent opened its withered jaw and let out a dry, mocking cackle that echoed through the ancient hall.

*****

Damn automatic defense.

A direct sniper shot was out of the question for now. The mummified Regent sitting on the throne didn’t even have to move; the ruined sanctuary actively protected its master.

Reacting to the gunshot, the newly spawned army of Desert Wraiths turned away from the throne and locked their empty eye sockets onto me and Elisha at the entrance.

There were dozens of them. They drew curved, rusted shamshirs from their tattered robes. The sheer volume of malicious intent flooding the room made Elisha’s face turn completely pale.

"Lucien? This is..." Elisha stammered, taking a step back.

"We fight," I said, unholstering the Reaver shotgun. "The Regent is using the ruin’s ambient mana to sustain them. Killing the Wraiths will actively bleed the Regent’s power reserves. Once its shield drops, I’ll blow its head off."

I stepped forward, putting myself between her and the approaching horde.

"I’ll hold the front line. You handle the rear and provide cover fire."

"The front line?!" Elisha’s voice cracked. "Are you insane?! You’re a marksman! Do you think you’re Kael or Bordon?!"

I didn’t answer. The first Wraith lunged, swinging its shamshir in a wide, decapitating arc.

I ducked smoothly under the rusted blade, stepped inside its guard, and drove my bare fist directly into the center of its skull. The physical conditioning from the Spire paid off. The skull shattered on impact, and the Wraith instantly dissolved into a pile of black sand.

"If you don’t support me, I won’t be able to hold them all off," I warned, racking the shotgun.

"I-I-I...!"

Huh? What’s that sound?

The response coming from behind me was entirely wrong. It wasn’t her usual stubborn pride.

With a sinking feeling, I risked a quick glance over my shoulder.

Elisha’s eyes were completely clouded over, staring blankly at the horde. Her hands, gripping her red compound bow, were trembling so violently that she couldn’t even nock an arrow. Her breathing was shallow and erratic.

It was exactly what I had feared. Her childhood trauma had been triggered.

Of all times, it had to be right now.

The claustrophobia of the underground ruins, the pitch-black darkness from earlier, and now an overwhelming army of undead monsters. It had completely broken her composure.

I couldn’t recall a single time in the recent loops where she had been this helpless. Sure, according to the game’s lore, she would eventually overcome this trauma and become the Empire’s greatest archer, but that didn’t help me

now

.

Right now, I had to face an army of Desert Wraiths alone.

...No. This might actually be the perfect opportunity.

I had to crush it here. The unstable factor. The psychological shackle that kept getting in the way of her true potential.

If her trauma was the problem, then right here, right now, I would force Elisha to confront it.

I can do this.