The library was silent.
So silent that the sound of Auren's own breathing echoed faintly against the old stone walls.
She could still hear the lingering whisper — those strange words urging her to keep walking, even if the next step led her to death.
Auren closed her eyes.
That voice… whose was it?
Was it Noxen's? Or something else — something that hid behind those words?
She tried to grasp the meaning of the poem, but the more she thought, the further it slipped away, like mist that refused to be touched.
She looked down at the Guidebook resting in her lap.
No glow, no symbols, no shifting letters.
Just an old book with a faded golden cover, reflecting a faint glimmer from a torch far away.
Auren sighed softly, then stood up.
"Maybe I should just leave this place…" she whispered.
Her steps were quiet, brushing against the cold stone floor.
As she pushed open the great library doors, the hinges groaned faintly — as if the building itself disapproved of her departure.
The castle corridor greeted her with the same silence.
The air was damp, heavy against her skin; dusty curtains hung lifeless by tall windows.
A dull gray light, from no clear source, washed over everything — like a dream fading before waking.
Auren paused.
There was something in that silence — an ancient sorrow without a name.
Yet she kept walking, hoping to find something… or someone.
After a few turns, her eyes caught a figure inside one of the rooms.
A man with golden hair stood before a window, motionless, staring out into nothing.
Lucen.
Auren stopped.
There was always something unsettling about him — his smile too calm, his eyes too gentle, like a man lying to himself.
Just as she was about to walk away, his voice called out.
"Auren."
Soft, melodic — like a song calling from afar.
Auren froze.
Lucen turned slowly to face her, that same unreadable, tranquil smile on his lips.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
Auren lowered her gaze.
"That's none of your concern."
Her voice was quiet, but sharp — the tone of someone afraid of their own answer.
Lucen didn't stop. He walked beside her, their steps falling in quiet rhythm, as if fate had already paired their paths.
"May I help you?" he asked gently.
There was no reply.
Still, his voice filled the silent corridor like a ripple across still water.
"Or perhaps… you wish to leave this castle?"
Auren halted. She looked at him — this time without flinching.
"...You can lead me out?" she asked softly.
Lucen nodded.
"Of course. I can help you explore the world beyond."
The world beyond the castle…
The words echoed in Auren's mind.
A world she had never seen — perhaps where all answers waited.
Yet the shadow of Noxen, Drakthir, and all the castle's secrets still clung to her like chains.
"...You won't leave me again, will you?"
The question came out like a prayer.
Lucen's gaze deepened.
"Of course not. I won't make that mistake again."
Auren said nothing, but something inside her trembled — a fragile thread between doubt and hope.
Finally, she nodded faintly.
"Alright… I'll go with you."
They walked toward the twin doors leading outside the castle.
Auren paused before them.
"Will this… be alright?" she asked.
Lucen smiled — warm, but distant.
"We'll be fine."
But before they could step forward, Auren hesitated once more.
"Wait… what about Noxen? He… won't be angry, will he?"
Lucen turned slightly.
The smile remained, but behind it lingered something dark — like a shadow trying to hide.
"If anything bad happens… let me bear it."
The doors opened.
Cold wind brushed against Auren's skin, carrying the scent of wet earth and withered leaves.
Before them stretched a dark forest beneath a sky of heavy clouds.
Lucen gently took Auren's hand.
"Come."
And together, they ran — leaving the castle behind.
Their footsteps pierced through the fog.
Tall trees loomed above, their shadows long like roots of ancient giants.
The light there was dim — only Lucen's eyes seemed to glimmer amidst the gray mist.
Moments later, Auren stopped.
"Lucen… do you see that?"
She pointed toward a faint glow in the distance.
Lucen's expression turned grave.
"...That's not just light, Auren."
He stepped closer, his voice falling to a whisper.
"I need you to stay quiet and alert. Do you still have the book I gave you?"
Auren nodded, pulling the worn book from her bag.
Lucen opened it carefully, his fingers brushing each page with deliberate caution — as if afraid to awaken something within.
Then he stopped.
A large illustration spread across the page: a colossal, shadowed figure — its body a fusion of stone and ancient roots.
Beneath it, the old text read:
> Gravemor — The Slumbering Core of the Abyss.
Auren stared intently.
Her eyes traced the great horns rising from its skull, the faint red embers glowing within its hollow eyes.
Its body seemed to breathe — the cracks across its surface pulsing with dim crimson light.
Lucen began to read aloud, his tone shifting into something ritualistic:
"This creature was born from a vortex of ancient mana that seeped into the earth for centuries.
It was not created — it formed.
Where mana gathers too greatly, the land itself awakens… and becomes Gravemor."
The sound of his voice seemed to shake the air.
Auren swallowed hard, a chill running down her spine.
Lucen continued:
"Its body is the shield of its world.
No blade of mana can pierce its hide.
And when it strikes… the black roots of the earth rise to shatter all around it."
He paused, eyes fixed on a strange symbol near the margin.
"...Its power is called Gravemorn's Pulse — the heartbeat of the awakened earth."
The ground trembled.
At first faintly — then stronger, devouring even the sound of their breaths.
The air turned hot, leaves spiraled through the wind, and from the faint glow ahead — the earth cracked open.
Lucen stared forward.
"He's awake…"
Auren tried to scream, but the wind tore her voice away.
The ground beneath them exploded, black roots burst upward, and dust swallowed the forest whole.
Auren's body was thrown far back.
She hit the earth hard, pain flaring through her just before darkness edged her vision.
The world roared — like the breath of something ancient reborn.
"Lu…cen…"
The name slipped from her lips, faint through the blood and dust.
Through her blurred sight, she saw him —
Lucen, standing amidst the storm, his golden hair shining red beneath the awakened light.
His face was calm, but in his eyes… something Auren had never seen before:
fear — and regret.
"Lucen…"
Her voice faded.
He looked at her, but in the next heartbeat, the light around him twisted.
The air swallowed his figure like fog devouring a shadow.
"W–wait…"
Auren reached out, but her hand caught nothing.
Lucen was gone.
Just like that.
No sound. No trace.
Auren tried to call his name, but no words came.
Her consciousness flickered — all that remained was red light in her eyes, the trembling pulse of the earth,
and a whisper lost among the rumble:
"You were never meant to wake it…"
Then everything sank into darkness.