Chapter 1239: Where Luck Leads (part 2)

Above them, the city in the Duskwight Lands continued to burn. But not a single root dared cross the invisible boundary surrounding the newly revealed entrance.

The staircase felt endless.

Step after step, the outside light vanished completely, devoured by the dark. There were no torches, no runes etched into the walls, no trace of any ancient lighting system.

Just a small sphere of light floating ahead of them. Conjured shyly by Lily with a flick of her wand.

It hovered about a meter off the ground, casting a soft glow that revealed walls carved with almost surgical precision. Not the work of a primitive tribe. Nor that of a mere Soulmancer.

This was... something else.

The deeper they went, the more Lily felt the world above slipping away.

The screams. The explosions. The rumble of the roots.

All of it dulled. Then vanished.

Not gradually.

Abruptly. As if someone had shut an invisible door between two separate realities.

Lily shivered.

"You felt that too...?"

Tim nodded slightly.

"We just crossed a boundary."

His voice sounded different down here. Sharper. More isolated.

Soon, even the air changed. And not long after, they finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

What unfolded before them stole the breath straight from Lily’s lungs.

An immense underground space stretched out ahead, structured like an ancient building buried beneath the continent. Slender columns. Walls engraved with cosmic motifs. A vaulted ceiling inlaid with translucent crystals radiating a pale glow, like a frozen sky trapped in stone.

The architecture carried a strange harmony—severe, yet elegant. Intellectual.

But beyond the mythic grandeur of the place, the first thing that truly seized their attention was the imposing monument standing at the entrance.

A statue.

It rose at the center of a circular vestibule, isolated as though the space itself had been designed around it. Chryselephantine. Or something close to it.

Pale ivory skin. Liquid gold drapery cascading in soft folds along a slender frame. And yet the materials felt neither fully organic nor entirely metallic—refined beyond anything known on the continent.

The statue depicted a young monk.

Ageless face. Balanced, delicate features. Its expression was... unsettling.

Both deeply scholarly and infinitely serene. Yet beneath that serenity lay something else.

Strength. Quiet bravery.

The certainty of a being who had never needed to raise his voice for the world to listen.

Even after tens of thousands of years, a presence lingered. An intangible yet inextinguishable will, exerting invisible—but undeniable—pressure on the two teenagers.

Standing before it felt like facing a massive celestial body compressed into human form.

Lily slowed without realizing it.

"It’s..."

She didn’t finish.

The Lumyst surrounding the statue was unreal in its purity.

Clear. Dense. Stable. More refined than the purest Lumyst water. This was a more fundamental energy. Something on an entirely different tier.

Tim didn’t step too close. Instinctively. He knew.

There was a distance to respect.

They remained several meters away.

And yet—

Simply by observing the statue, they felt their internal state react.

Their Lumyst cores vibrated. A gentle, steady accumulation. Not a violent influx—an alignment.

As if their very energy structure were being recalibrated, purified with every passing second beneath that unmoving gaze.

Lily inhaled slowly. She felt... lighter. Clearer-headed.

"It’s like he’s actually looking at us..." she murmured.

Tim inclined his head slightly.

"Klayr."

The name echoed through the silent chamber. The continent had formed upon his corpse, and during their wanderings the two teens had almost accidentally uncovered the truth of his origin.

And here...

This might have been where he had lived. Thought. Forged. Transcended.

The statue was untouchable.

Not because of a visible barrier. But because getting closer would have felt like disrespect.

So they stood there a few seconds longer. Absorbing. Trying to understand without truly understanding.

Then Tim looked away.

"There’s more to see."

And they left behind the eternal gaze of the cosmic monk.

They moved deeper inside.

A futuristic forge workshop occupied the first wing—silent anvils, a furnace cold for millennia. Workbenches scored with deep marks. But no tools.

Everything had been taken. Probably by the Soulmancers who had defended the place. The battle outside must have drawn them out—but all of them?

The two teens were young, not stupid. Leaving a place like this completely unguarded made no sense.

Farther in, a circular chamber lined with empty shelves.

A library. Stripped bare.

A laboratory: Experiment tables. Shattered vats. Crystallized residue scattered across the floor.

This place, too, had been methodically stripped clean. Only the skeleton remained.

That didn’t stop Lily from sensing a lingering presence.

"Someone’s been here," she said quietly.

Tim ran his fingers along a metallic surface. A thin layer of dust—disturbed recently.

"More than once."

Soulmancers, most likely. Or maybe Players... though that seemed unlikely.

They moved on, instinctively avoiding a room that looked like private quarters. Until they entered what appeared to be a more secluded laboratory. Smaller. More personal.

That was where Tim stopped.

On a table, almost carelessly placed in the middle of the emptiness...

A metallic fragment.

Irregular. Dull. Yet vibrating.

Tim approached it slowly. His eyes shifted subtly.

"Interesting..."

Even without touching it, they could sense the activity inside.

A self-renewing flow of Lumyst. Cells. Microscopic metallic structures in motion. Like a living organism.

Within it lay an Aether Code—of nearly obscene density and complexity. Every rune and symbol seemed layered, multi-tiered, as if the metal itself were thinking.

Lily felt the pressure just from stepping closer.

"What the hell is that...?"

Tim extended his hand. The fragment trembled briefly—then stabilized. He felt a surge of vitality flow into him.

Exceptionally pure Life Lumyst.

"I’ve got a feeling this is what we came for."

He picked it up. No resistance. As if it had been waiting.

Lily exhaled sharply.

"Okay. Great. We’ve got it. Can we leave now?"

She glanced around nervously. Even if the outside world was silent down here, she didn’t like this place.

Tim hesitated. Just a second. Then turned his head in another direction.

His gaze fixed somewhere beyond the walls.

"Not yet."

A faint smile curved his lips.

"There’s something else."

They left the laboratory.

A corridor led them to an unexpected space: an inner garden.

Rows of perfectly preserved herbs grew beneath a soft glow. Silver leaves. Violet-tinged stems. Translucent sprouts swollen with iridescent sap.

Tim crouched. Plucked one. Brought it to his nose.

Inhaled.

His eyes narrowed.

"Poison... Strong enough to brew potions—or drugs—that could bring even a guy like Gerulf to his knees."

Lily arched a brow.

"Even Jake?"

A brief silence.

Tim’s lips tilted into a crooked smile.

"Jake... maybe not."

She let out a nervous laugh—a mix of admiration and disbelief.

Then they resumed their exploration.

The garden opened into a darker section. The air turned colder.

Bars. Cells. Dried blood streaked across the stone.

Marks of experimentation.

Lily went pale.

"They used test subjects..."

The cells were empty. All of them. Except one.

At the very back.

A figure sat slumped against the wall, head bowed, long filthy hair hanging over a bearded face. Torn clothes. Skin drawn tight from malnutrition.

He looked asleep.

Or unconscious.

Tim stepped up to the bars and tapped them lightly.

Cling.

The figure flinched. Slowly lifted his head. Tired eyes—then suddenly wide.

Lily’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, and she let loose a string of curses wildly inappropriate for a young lady.

"Holy shit, I must be dreaming! What the hell are you doing here?!"

Despite the beard and grime, the gaunt face was unmistakable.

Peter Brady.

An iconic member of the Myrtharian Nerds.

Alive.

Here.

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