The darkness was absolute—like a solid mass of night. Yet it did nothing to deter Baran and his two companions from moving forward.
There was no dampness weighing down the air, no stench of rot invading their senses. Only a silent cave, sloping downward at a sharp angle of nearly twenty degrees, as if silently beckoning them into its depths with an unsettling invitation.
Narvik led the way, his right hand brushing along the rough cave wall like a blind guide reading the path with his fingertips. Behind him walked Baran with steady confidence, followed by Suleiman, who guarded the rear, his eyes scanning the darkness.
Suddenly, Narvik stopped.
"Oh! I found a door."
His voice carried genuine shock, as though the words had escaped before his mind could process what his hand had touched.
"A door? How could there be a door here?" Baran frowned, struggling to grasp the meaning.
Suleiman didn't even pause to think.
"A door? Perfect! That means the cave is officially an apartment now. All that's left is to find the landlord and negotiate rent!"
"Suleiman, I swear—if you don't shut up right now, I'll save the cave the trouble of hiding your body!"
Baran snapped, his patience finally breaking.
At that exact moment, a brilliant light tore through the darkness. Narvik had already turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The three stepped inside one after another—
—and immediately froze.
The door… was floating in midair.
It hung like a gateway to another dimension, and beneath them stretched a vast emptiness illuminated by dozens of blazing cores that cast a golden glow across countless branching cavern walls.
"Look at this…" one of them whispered, awe stealing the words from his mouth.
Before them lay a labyrinth of intertwined caves, splitting and merging like living veins pulsing with ancient secrets.
They exchanged heavy glances.
Finally, Narvik broke the silence with a tired sigh.
"Did the Elder tell you exactly where the Legendary Weapon is?"
"No," Baran replied. "He only said: search. He's only been here once."
Narvik exhaled, a quiet determination flickering in his eyes.
"Then we'll have to split up. We're strong—there's no place for fear between us. Right?"
Baran looked at him seriously.
"The one who shouldn't be afraid… is you first, Narvik."
They shared a silent smile of understanding.
But Suleiman stepped forward, his expression unusually serious.
"And what if something happens to one of us while we're separated?"
"Don't you remember what the old man said?" Baran replied. "There's no one in these caves."
Suleiman didn't budge.
"Even if he was telling the truth, that doesn't mean no one will come while we're apart. You really trust a stranger's words that easily?"
Baran fell silent—for the first time, hesitation appeared on his face.
"I agree with Suleiman," Narvik said. "But we still have to split up… with one condition: no one goes too far."
After a long discussion, they reached a clear agreement:
They would separate—but not disappear.
---
Whoooosh…
Narvik shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, the sound of rushing wind trailing behind him.
Seconds later, Baran dashed off in a different direction.
Suleiman remained for a moment, staring into the glowing void ahead as he muttered to himself:
"I've got a bad feeling about this…"
He waited… then let himself go.
Each of them vanished into the maze, swallowed by the cold silence of the caves.
---
In the city of Nab stood a luxurious mansion guarded by heavily armed soldiers.
Inside, priceless paintings seemed to breathe, while rare vases stood like eternal sentinels guarding their owner's secrets.
A guard burst into the main hall, panting, his voice trembling.
"Sir! Sir!"
His master glanced at him with feigned calm.
"Stop shouting. She's already behind you."
The guard froze.
Slowly—very slowly—he turned his head.
Behind him stood a woman sculpted from both beauty and danger.
Her skin was as flawless as marble, her black hair flowing like a river of night. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, yet she was far older—her preserved youth a gift of the cultivation world she belonged to.
Her dark eyes locked onto the guard, and a cold smile curved her lips like a drawn blade.
"It seems Diaso's servants still lack manners. Shall I educate you myself?"
Her tone was casual—almost bored.
"You speak of manners, yet you entered my mansion without permission," Diaso replied sharply. A middle-aged man, his face already marked by time.
"When I informed your guard of my arrival, he panicked and started shouting my name like a madman," she said coolly. "Besides… I go wherever I please. Have you forgotten? I am the head of the Kurion Clan."
She strolled through the hall, her gaze assessing every object with hidden sharpness. To her, the mansion was nothing more than an oversized museum.
Diaso said nothing.
He knew better than to argue.
Lorina sat down—and in an instant, her expression changed. The smile vanished, her voice turning sharp as a drawn sword.
"Listen carefully, Diaso. I know you aspire to become the clan leader."
She paused, her eyes never leaving his.
"But today… I will drink the poison."
Diaso's heart seemed to stop.
Sweat formed on his forehead as he struggled to maintain composure.
The poison… was a rare royal gift—one of the greatest toxins of the Poison Kingdom. Whoever consumed it and mastered it would gain unimaginable power.
"That's why you will join me," she continued coldly. "If you persist in your stubbornness, I will kill you without hesitation. But if you obey… I will make you my right hand."
She tilted her head slightly.
"What is your decision?"
---
Whoooosh…
Narvik moved through the caves like the wind, crossing one passage after another without finding anything worth stopping for.
Just as he was about to give up and turn back—
He saw it.
A gate.
Massive. Silent.
Six mysterious symbols were carved into its surface.
He stood before it for a long moment… then pushed it open.
Inside was a space filled with hexagonal chambers, each containing a sealed gate.
He approached one and reached out—but it did not respond.
"What's going on?" he whispered, his hand still pressed against it. "My heart beats faster every time I get close to this symbol… and its meaning… 'Golden Crystal.' Why is that the only thing I understand?"
No answer came.
He took a slow breath… and stepped back.
---
Elsewhere in the caves, Suleiman stood before another gate and broke into a wide grin.
"Hahahaha! Looks like luck has finally chosen me! I'm the one who found the Legendary Weapon!"
Without hesitation, he opened the gate and stepped inside.
The chamber was hexagonal, just like the first—but its walls were covered in strange carvings numbered from one to six.
Suleiman studied them carefully.
The first depicted a single man facing seven massive factions—each far greater in number and size.
Then the man fought…
And fought…
Until he defeated six of them.
But the fifth and sixth carvings were torn—deliberately erased, as if someone had wanted to hide the truth.
"One man defeating six armies…" Suleiman muttered, his voice filled with awe—and something else. "What happened next? Against the seventh… did he win… or fall?"
He left the room, the answer slipping through his thoughts like smoke.
---
Narvik returned to the Golden Crystal gate, his finger tracing the symbol as if trying to recall a forgotten memory.
"Half an hour has passed… I should head back."
But before he could finish—
He felt a presence.
He turned.
A woman stood only a few steps away.
Her long black hair fell over her shoulders like a curtain of night. One hand rested on the hilt of her sword, her gaze fixed on him with unmistakable danger.
"What are you doing here?"
Lorina's voice was colder than the cave itself.