Forbidden Constellation's Blade

Chapter 69: Home of the Hero


Contrary to what Ryn thought, the bridge didn't crumble beneath their feet.

It somehow held solid, each crystalline step forming only after the last had been taken. Clouds brushed past Ryn's shoulders as they ascended, the isles shrinking below until, snow, sand and forest were just distant shapes.

Once they passed the veil of clouds, the scene in front of them was even more unexpected.

A wide stretch of green rolled out beneath the open sky, untouched by any weather conditions. At its center stood a massive structure of pale stone and dark wood, unmistakably man-made.

A mansion.

Or perhaps something closer to a museum.

Tall windows lined its walls, unbroken and intact. The building was unnervingly pristine, as though time had simply…decided not to pass here.

Jay slowed.

"…Okay," he muttered. "Far from the strangest thing we've seen so far."

Ryn didn't answer.

His gaze was fixed on the doors.

The were enormous, double-paneled stone doors with metal engraved handles.

When Ryn pressed against the stone, they opened with a muted click, swinging inward far more easily than their size suggested.

He had expected some kind of seal, or locking mechanism…but they had just opened without any resistance.

Jay slowed to a stop.

"…Oh."

The space beyond felt different immediately. It wasn't grand and mythical, but rather personal.

Smooth stone paths wound through trimmed greenery, shallow water features lining their edges. Trees were trimmed neatly, like they'd been taken care of every single day.

Ryn and Jay followed a carefully laid stone path that cut across what appeared to be a garden, eventually leading them to the main house.

Low ceilings gave way to open halls. Sliding partitions divided rooms without sealing them off completely, allowing air and light to flow naturally.

Ryn opened one of the sliding doors to reveal a room.

Inside, low tables were carefully placed along the floor with a teaset placed neatly on top. With recessed alcoves holding personal objects rather than trophies or banners.

"This doesn't feel like a hero's estate," Jay said slowly.

Ryn nodded.

"Yeah. It seems more like…a retirement home?"

At the far end of the inner courtyard stood another structure—simpler, more restrained. A single building set slightly apart from the rest, its doors reinforced with metal bands etched in familiar patterns.

Functional.

Ryn felt the keys stir faintly inside his Ring.

"That's the core."

Jay followed his gaze. "And I'm guessing that one doesn't open."

Ryn approached anyway.

The moment his hand rested against the wooden doors, light traced outward along the frame, before forming a translucent sigil in the air.

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Ryn tilted his head in confusion, the message itself was definitely not one from the system, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that they were not far off.

The light faded, leaving the doors untouched.

Jay exhaled. "…So we're guests."

Ryn withdrew his hand.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "For now."

They circled back and continued into the main building.

Most of the rooms were empty, guest quarters by the look of them.

Simple beds laid out neatly, low desks positioned near windows, storage cabinets built flush into the walls. Everything was eerily clean, to the point that Ryn had to suspect something.

"Looks like he expected visitors," Jay muttered, peering into one of the rooms.

Ryn hummed in acknowledgment but didn't respond. Something about the way it was built was strange to him. It was unlike any of the architecture that they currently have, focusing more on woods rather than stone.

Eventually, the corridors widened.

They emerged into what appeared to be the front of the mansion proper, a broad entrance hall that faced the inner courtyard.

They didn't look like runes or sigils, but characters of a written language system.

Ryn frowned, stepping closer.

The symbols were composed of simple lines and curves, arranged vertically. They didn't resemble any script he knew, yet something about them tugged at the edge of his recognition.

They were too structured to be decorative, yet too intentional to be ornamental.

"…You recognize that?" Jay asked.

Ryn shook his head slowly.

"No," he said. "But looks like a precursor language to ours?"

"Could probably make out what it means?" Ryn continued

Jay squinted at it. "Looks kind of neat, though. Whoever carved it knew what they were doing."

Ryn studied the plaque again, letting his intuition trace the shapes.

The characters felt too broad to be a place, so he settled on a name.

He hesitated, then added,

"Maybe… 'sanctuary'?"

Jay shrugged and continued down the hall. Ryn followed, but the word lingered in his head.

Sanctuary.

For half a second, a ridiculous thought crossed his mind. What if that really was the hero's last name.

Ryn's thought was shattered instantly as a scream came from the nearby room, unmistakably Jay's.

He sprinted, Snow already half in his grip. His Cold Affinity flared despite his exhaustion.

"Jay—!"

He skidded to a stop.

Jay was standing in the doorway of a wide, well-lit room, hands gripping the handle of what looked like some kind of machine.

"Ryn," he said, voice shaking. "Tell me I'm hallucinating."

Ryn followed his gaze.

The room was unmistakably a kitchen.

Clean counters lined the walls, polished stone paired with warm wood. Shelves held neatly stacked utensils, cookware hanging in deliberate order. A long preparation table sat at the center, its surface spotless.

And against one wall—

A tall, rectangular cabinet of pale metal and crystal stood humming softly.

Ryn frowned. "…What is that?"

Jay staggered toward it.

"It's—" He swallowed. "It's cold."

He pressed his palm against the surface, then yanked it open.

A rush of chilled air spilled into the room.

Inside were neatly arranged trays of food—sealed and preserved in a way Ryn had never seen before. Containers of prepared dishes kept their colors, untouched by a millennia of time.

Jay snapped upright and spun toward him, eyes shining.

"Do you realize what this is?"

Ryn sheathed Snow back on his waist.

"No?"

"It's some kind of cold storage!" Jay continued rapidly. "I didn't think to infuse manalite with Cold Energy at a passive level."

He laughed softly, half in disbelief.

"Whoever built this was a genius."

Then he made a small peep, his eyes mischievous and staring with unmistakable intent.

"Do you think," he said carefully, "the hero would mind if I—"

He coughed.

"—borrowed this for research?"

Ryn sighed softly, "Just…leave it for later."

Using the kitchen, they prepared their first full meal in what seemed like days.

The tension in his shoulders eased as heat settled in his chest, the fatigue finally catching up now that his body wasn't running on adrenaline alone.

Jay leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

"…I forgot food could taste like this."

Ryn almost smiled.

While Jay lingered at the table, Ryn wandered back toward the cold storage cabinet, more out of idle curiosity than intent.

He opened it again.

His gaze skimmed past the obvious items this time, searching without quite knowing what for.

Then he froze.

At first, he thought it was just ice.

A clear shard tucked carefully along the lower shelf, set apart from the food as though someone had been deliberate about its placement.

Ryn reached out before he realized he'd decided to.

The moment his fingers hovered near it, his breath caught.

He knew exactly what this was…seen it many times.

Ethereal Ice.

Ryn pulled his hand back slowly.

It was intact.

Perfectly preserved.

"How…" he murmured under his breath.

Ethereal Ice wasn't supposed to last.

True to its name, even a touch of heat would make it disappear. That fragility was why it was almost never used outside of desperate measures.

His hand trembled slightly as memory surged. His mother lay still while thin veins of pale frost crept along her skin. The careful placement of a shard just like this one next to her, absorbing the excess and making sure she wouldn't surge.

Ryn's fingers curled slowly.

He hadn't even thought about it, but this was the perfect anchor for the Essence-Condensing Pill. A Cold-aligned anchor to match his Affinity.

But why was this here?

Did the Hero…know?

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