After looking back at the labyrinth one last time, I started walking up the hill to see what awaited me on the other side. The hill was incredibly tall; it was what prevented the Dark Sea from spreading any further. Easily two hundred meters high.
As I climbed, the same thought that had crossed my mind every time I killed a creature inside the labyrinth returned.
I didn't get a single Memory…
'What the hell?!'
'I killed a ton of scavengers and didn't receive a single one! That's not fair.'
While complaining internally, I reached the top of the hill. It was made of dirt and stone, and when I looked beyond it, I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing.
There was nothing.
Beyond the hill stretched an open plain for kilometers, completely empty. No trees, no structures, no rivers. Absolutely nothing. The only things present were marks on the ground, as if something—or someone—had fought there. There were craters too, but they didn't look natural, as if they had been formed by the impact of something massive.
I had a strong urge to turn around and go back to the labyrinth. Not only because of the emptiness, but because of the danger it represented.
I didn't even want to imagine a situation where a creature spotted me from afar, with no way to hide or analyze it beforehand. Aerial threats were even worse; without a bow, I wouldn't be able to do anything.
In the end, after questioning several decisions I had made earlier, I forced myself to move forward and hope nothing bad happened. A good plan? Absolutely not. But what other choice did I have? Turn back and give up on the relic?
I focused aether into my ears, trying to catch any possible sound, and expanded my aether sense as much as I could without giving myself a headache. The density of aether was still the same.
The first day of travel was extremely boring. The only thing I had to watch out for was not falling into one of the craters, though they weren't very deep. At some point during the day, I reinforced my legs with aether and started running. Since there was nothing to hear or see, I focused on training my aether cycling, and by the end of the day I was doing it almost unconsciously.
I don't know how much distance I covered, but I kept the same pace all day long, and even made a risky decision: I kept running at night.
Something I had noticed during the last week inside the labyrinth was that, thanks to the high density of aether, not only had my need for food decreased, but my need for sleep as well.
I kept moving through the night, focusing on my senses to detect any possible threat. Nothing happened, but I had a constant sense of danger running through my body. Even so, if I had stopped, I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to rest.
Stopping wouldn't have been safe either. If there was a creature out there, I would only be changing my state from moving to standing still. At least while moving, I would have a chance to react.
And so I continued until the second day arrived.
The first rays of morning light helped me see again, and to my surprise, nothing had changed. It felt as if I hadn't moved at all during the entire day. Obviously, when I looked back in the direction I had come from, I could tell I had progressed.
But to the west, everything was the same. The same plain. The same craters. The same stones. And the same sense of danger.
The second day was no different from the first.
Or at least, that's how it felt.
I kept moving as soon as the sun fully rose, maintaining the same steady pace. I jogged when the terrain allowed it and switched to a fast walk when my legs started to wear down. The plain remained just as open, just as empty, just as hostile. No matter how far I went, there wasn't a single real point of reference. Nothing to measure progress with, other than looking back and realizing the hill was no longer visible.
The craters kept appearing at irregular intervals. Some were so close to each other that it was hard to believe it was a coincidence, but I couldn't find any clear pattern. No signs of creatures either. No remains. No sounds. Nothing. Just the wind brushing against the ground and the constant sound of my own footsteps, which I started to hate.
I expanded my senses again and again, carefully adjusting my aether usage to avoid overexertion. I listened… but there was nothing to hear. I observed… but there was nothing to see. That absence began to weigh on me more than any fight ever had.
'If this doesn't change soon, I'm going to go insane.'
As the hours passed, I reinforced my legs and started running again. Not out of urgency, but because slowing down made me think too much. My aether cycling kept flowing almost automatically, which helped keep my mind occupied. Even so, the exhaustion wasn't physical; it was a constant pressure in my chest, an alert without a clear reason that refused to fade.
When night fell again, I didn't stop. The dark sky didn't change the landscape, it only made the plain feel even more vast. I kept moving, alert to the smallest change in the environment, even though I knew that if something appeared, I would probably notice it too late.
The third day started differently.
It wasn't immediate, nor obvious at first, but as soon as the sun rose, I noticed it. The terrain was no longer completely flat. The incline was slight, almost imperceptible, so much so that for the first few minutes I thought it was just an illusion caused by fatigue. But the farther west I went, the clearer it became: the plain was rising.
At first, it was a gentle slope, barely enough to change the way I walked. Then, every certain distance, the incline became a little steeper. It wasn't a hill, but a series of uneven elevations that forced my body to constantly adapt. My legs started to feel it almost immediately.
The craters changed too. They stopped being shallow depressions and became larger and more irregular. Some were wide enough that I had to go around them, and others were so deep I couldn't see the bottom without getting too close. Between them, stones began to jut out of the ground. Taller, sharper rocks that finally broke the monotony of the terrain.
For the first time since leaving the labyrinth, I had something I could use as cover.
That didn't calm me down. Quite the opposite.
The sense of danger intensified. With the terrain sloping upward, my field of vision was even more limited. I couldn't see what lay ahead without exposing myself, and every step required more effort. Fatigue began to build up quickly, forcing me to slow down more than once.
I kept moving, alert, using the rocks as temporary observation points. I moved from one to another, never staying too long in the same place. The silence was still there, but it no longer felt empty. It was heavy, as if the terrain itself was hiding something.
When the sun reached its highest point, it happened.
A sound.
It was faint, so brief that I doubted I had really heard it. Even so, I froze. I didn't breathe. I didn't move. I focused aether into my ears, amplifying every vibration in the environment, but nothing else came. The silence closed in around me again, intact.
I then expanded my aether sense, carefully, without pushing it to the limit. The familiar pressure appeared, but I couldn't detect any clear presence. Nothing I could identify as a creature.
I frowned and looked west again.
This time, I focused aether into my eyes.
That was when I saw it.
It had a humanoid shape, but its proportions were wrong. Its arms were too long, its torso too narrow, and its movements were clumsy, almost uncoordinated, as if it wasn't used to its own body. It advanced with uneven steps, slightly dragging one foot, unaware of my presence… for now.
I immediately crouched and retreated until I was hidden behind one of the rocks jutting out of the ground. From there, I began moving with extreme caution, advancing from cover to cover, carefully controlling every step, every breath, every brush against the terrain.
'Finally, something interesting. I was starting to lose my mind.'
I observed it for several more seconds, measuring the distance, analyzing its movements. Then the real question arose.
Fight it and kill it… or hide and move on?
If I killed it, I could get fragments, but it would be impossible to do so without making noise, which could attract other creatures. Ignoring it also carried a risk: if something stronger awaited ahead, I wouldn't have a clear path to retreat.
I stayed still, hidden among the rocks, weighing my options.
Both choices had advantages and disadvantages. The first offered greater rewards, but the consequences could be severe if something went wrong. The second offered almost no benefit and carried risks dependent on future encounters. Both had their merits, but what made me choose the first option had nothing to do with any of that.
After observing the creature more closely, I realized something.
It was weak…
At most, it was a Dormant Beast, and I had been overthinking it.
I moved closer, using the rocks as cover. Even knowing it was weak, I didn't take risks. As I approached, I gradually reduced the range of my aether sense. The creature never noticed my presence.
I positioned myself behind one of the rocks closest to its back. I summoned Dawn's Ballad in my right hand and Infinite Lash in my left. I reinforced my body with aether, focusing mainly on my arms. Taking position, I threw the sword toward the creature's skull, and seconds later launched the whip to wrap around its body and hold it in place.
Dawn's Ballad struck its blade into what would have been the back of the creature's neck, and moments later the whip tightened around its body.
[You have slain a Dormant Beast: Thren of Unnamed Blood]
I couldn't help but lose control of the whip for a moment when I heard the Spell announce the creature's name. I don't know why, but it sounded very… human.
Regaining my composure, I ordered the whip to extend gradually, letting gravity guide the body down to the ground without making noise.
'Thren of Unnamed Blood?'
'Was that creature once human? This keeps getting stranger…'
Leaving the corpse on the ground, I approached it. Physically, there was nothing unusual about it—at least not for a Nightmare Creature—but its name left an uncomfortable sensation in my body.
There was nothing I could do about the smell the corpse would produce, so the only idea I had was to try and hide it in one of the nearby craters. I reinforced my body with aether again, expecting it to be heavy, and grabbed it by one of the arms.
I don't know why I thought reinforcing myself was necessary. The moment I pulled, the arm tore away from the main body, and I ended up falling flat on my ass.
'…'
Maybe I was overreacting, but I took it as a sign to rest for a bit. I hadn't taken a single break since entering this area, and my legs ached from all the running. Even with aether reinforcement, the strain was accumulating.
My head felt like it was about to split open from using my aether sense for so long. There was a constant ringing in my ears from focusing aether into them, and the exhaustion started bringing something even more dangerous: sleep.
Which I obviously didn't allow. No matter how tired I was, I wasn't going to sleep in a place like this, especially not next to a corpse that could attract other creatures.
With one last effort, I stood up using Dawn's Ballad as support, then dismissed it and studied my surroundings again. Once more, I saw nothing. Still, having encountered a creature helped me feel less lost.
If there was one, there were more.
It didn't take long after I resumed my advance to notice movement again. This time it wasn't a single isolated silhouette, but several, separated from one another yet close enough to form small groups. Creatures with the same deformed humanoid shape, the same clumsy movements, and that strange sensation of being badly put together.
There were three. Then four.
I stopped to observe them from a distance, using the tall stones as cover. They didn't move in a coordinated way, but they weren't wandering aimlessly either. They advanced slowly, stopping from time to time, as if following a pattern I didn't yet understand. They didn't seem to be watching each other, and that gave me room to act.
If I could isolate them, I could eliminate them.
I waited. I let the group separate just enough for one to fall outside the immediate reach of the others. I moved without haste, circling one of the terrain's elevations, and when I had the right angle, I attacked.
Using the same strategy as before.
The fight was quick. Precise. Without unnecessary noise.
[You have slain a Dormant Beast: Ixel of Unnamed Blood]
I didn't stop. Before the others could react, I was already moving again, using the terrain to break their line of sight.
Calling Dawn's Ballad back from the skull of the previous creature and summoning it again into my hand. A second creature fell shortly after, and the third followed not long after.
[You have slain a Dormant Beast: Varkesh of Unnamed Blood]
[You have slain a Dormant Beast: Vaelor of Unnamed Blood]
When silence returned, nothing remained but inert bodies and the familiar stench of corrupted flesh.
I could face small groups, as long as I controlled the pace and the environment. Anything beyond that would be an unnecessary risk.
That first group confirmed something I had feared. All of these creatures had once been human, or at least something close to human. What caught my attention was the term "of Unnamed Blood." I knew that in other cultures, ones that existed long before the Spell descended, the word Blood meant: Family.
So the term "Unnamed" likely referred to some kind of hierarchy within that society. From that, several things could be deduced, but the most important was this: if these "Unnamed" were Dormant Beasts, then they were likely at the very bottom of that hierarchy.
If the hierarchical position of families corresponded to the ranks of the creatures, that would mean that the farther I advanced, the stronger the creatures would become.
After reaching that conclusion, I continued on my way.
As the hours passed, the presence of creatures became constant. They appeared alone or in small groups, always the same, always with that Unnamed Blood. Each encounter ended the same way. Different name, same result, and an uncomfortable sensation lingering in my body.
[You have slain a Dormant Beast: Gorath of Unnamed Blood]
The pattern was clear.
Even knowing that these were likely to be my weakest opponents, I began avoiding them whenever I could. Not out of inability, but out of accumulation. Every fight left traces, and I had no way of knowing how many more might be drawn to them.
The terrain continued to rise unevenly. Tall stones were no longer an exception but part of the landscape, and I moved among them more naturally, using them to observe before advancing. The exhaustion was still there, but now I understood something more clearly than in the previous days.
I was not alone.
Hours later, as the sun began to descend, something changed on the horizon.
At first I thought it was another rock formation, a rise in the terrain different from the rest. But the more I advanced, the clearer the silhouette became. Straight lines where there shouldn't be any. Angles that didn't belong to the land.
A structure.
I couldn't distinguish details from that distance, but the shape was unmistakable. It wasn't a single construction, but several, layered and spreading outward. Something large.
The sky began to darken slowly, and with it my margin for error shrank. I reduced my pace and stayed close to the ground, moving carefully. The creatures kept appearing, always the same, always with that Unnamed Blood. I saw them moving among the irregularities of the terrain, appearing and disappearing as the light faded. They weren't concentrated, but they were dispersed in an unsettling way, as if the path toward that structure had been deliberately filled with living obstacles.
I didn't know what that place was.
As I drew closer, night became more present. The shadows stretched longer, and the inclined terrain worsened my field of vision even more. The sense of danger grew, not because there was something new, but because now there could be… and I wouldn't see it.
But then it became evident: it wasn't a single structure. There were many, connected to one another, forming something similar to a settlement. There were no clear walls defining a perimeter, no defined entrance. The city simply… began.
The architecture was crude and functional. Low buildings, blocks of stone without adornments, without color, without visible symbols. Everything seemed built with a single purpose: to endure. I saw no decorations or unnecessary details. Every wall, every corner, was there because it served a function.
'What a sad city.'
There were no total collapses, no structures consumed by time. The streets were still defined, the houses still standing. But everything was still. As if the city had been emptied in a single moment.
I stopped before entering completely.
From that position, I could distinguish movement among the buildings. The same creatures. The same deformed humanoid shapes. They walked through the city as if the streets belonged to them, appearing and disappearing between corners and narrow passages. With the light almost gone, many of them were revealed only by movement, not by shape. They weren't gathered in a single point, but spread across the entire visible area.
I counted around twenty near my position. And even so, I had the feeling there were more, hidden beyond my field of view, moving through streets I couldn't see from there.
I had no intention of clearing everything.
I chose a path. Just one. A direct line toward the interior, wide enough to move without getting trapped, but controlled enough not to draw the attention of everything moving around. Anything outside that route… didn't exist to me.
I advanced slowly, using the corners of buildings as cover, peeking out just enough to observe before moving. With night fully upon me, every step was slower. The creatures reacted erratically. Some remained still for long periods, others wandered without clear direction, crossing from one street to another. There was no visible hierarchy or real coordination, but their numbers made any mistake feel final.
When one came too close to the path I had chosen, I eliminated it.
Always quickly. Always isolating it first.
[You have slain a Dormant Beast: Kelreth of Unnamed Blood]
[You have received a Memory: Last Oath]
[You have slain a Dormant Beast: Morven of Unnamed Blood]
[You have received a Memory: Last Answer]
'Yes, finally!'
'I'll check them when I rest.'
I ended up leaving the bodies where they fell. I didn't try to hide them. The smell mixed with the stagnant air of the city, but it caused no visible reaction. Even so, continuing to move at night became less and less viable.
I found a house with no movement around it and went inside. Not to sleep, but to relax for a while. While there, I entered my Soul Sea to look at the two new Memories. I could've done it normally, but it had been a long time since I last entered.
As soon as I did, I was greeted by a calm purple sea, accompanied by a solitary purple sun as well.
'At first it felt strange, but now I'm starting to get used to my Soul Sea.'
Without much delay, I made the two orbs orbiting the purple sun materialize in my hand.
They were two completely identical rings. Both seemed to be made of something similar to metal, yet completely dark. But not just dark. It was as if they absorbed all the light around them. I placed one on my index finger and felt nothing. Testing it, I placed the other on my other hand, and nothing happened either.
'Weird, let's see what the description says.'
Name: [Last Oath]
Memory Rank: Dormant
Memory Type: Tool
Description: [This ring was forged on a starless night, when war had already erased the names of the living and only promises whispered in low voices remained. Two brothers shared it as one would share a final refuge. It was not jewelry nor a symbol of power, but a simple certainty: as long as the ring existed on the other's finger, neither would be alone.
In the heat of battle, when noise devoured thought and death became routine, this ring was the silent proof that, somewhere in the world, the other was still breathing. Distance and chaos did not matter. As long as the circle remained intact, absence was not final.]
'Brothers?'
'Don't tell me… the two creatures I killed were brothers…'
Name: [Last Answer]
Memory Rank: Dormant
Memory Type: Tool
Description: [This ring holds the remaining half of a vow made before marching to the front, when it was still possible to believe that tomorrow would come for both. It was sealed with the idea that if one fell, the other would know without words, without messengers, without bodies to recognize.
It promised neither salvation nor victory. Only truth.
As long as the black metal remained cold and whole, it meant the bond had not been broken by war. That the sacrifice had not yet been demanded. That fraternal love still existed, even when everything else had been claimed by blood.]
'…'
I remained still, holding both rings in my hands, letting their meaning fully settle in.
In the end… they had succeeded.
They survived the war. They fulfilled their promise. They kept each other alive, together, until the very end. They didn't die separated on a battlefield or forgotten by time. They made it this far with the only thing they had left.
And I was the one who took it from them.
The thought tightened my chest in an uncomfortable way. I didn't want to imagine how it would feel to be in their place. To know that the only thing keeping you standing is the certainty that your brother is still breathing somewhere in the world… and to lose that in an instant. No matter that they were Nightmare Creatures. No matter that they attacked me without hesitation. That didn't erase what they had been before.
I closed my hand around the rings.
I thought of Ellie.
Of what I would do if the world were reduced to a single promise. If the only way to keep moving forward was knowing she was still alive. I didn't hesitate for even a second about the answer. I would do exactly the same as they did. I would do anything. Cross any place. Kill whoever I had to kill if it meant making sure she would still be breathing the next day.
I exhaled slowly and returned the rings to their orbs.
I didn't feel guilt. I knew I couldn't afford it. But I also couldn't ignore the strange weight that lingered deep in my chest. A mix of respect, sadness, and a silent warning.
This place wasn't just full of monsters.
It was full of stories that ended badly.
Leaving my Soul Sea, I leaned against a wall, my gaze unfocused. No matter how much I wanted to do something to shake this feeling from my chest, going out at night was too risky.
Time passed slowly, until the darkness began to retreat.
When the light returned, I stepped outside.
I kept moving, ignoring side streets, open doors, and passages that vanished between the buildings. I didn't explore, I didn't look inside the houses. All my focus was on keeping the path clear and moving forward.
The journey was long. I lost track of the exact time, but a couple of hours must have passed since I resumed my advance before the environment began to change. It wasn't abrupt. There was no clear line marking the transition. At some point, the constructions simply stopped looking the same.
The houses were in better condition.
The walls were still bare stone, without colors or symbols, but they no longer showed deep cracks or eroded edges. The structures were sturdier, more even. The streets widened enough to walk without brushing both sides, and the ground was more level, less irregular.
There were no decorations.
No statues, no markings, no signs that anyone had wanted to beautify the place.
Even so, everything seemed built with more care. As if this part of the city had been meant to last, not just to survive.
I stopped for a moment, not because of danger, but because of the contrast.
I looked back, toward the area I had come from. The change was evident even from there. I didn't understand why, and I didn't try to. I simply registered it and kept moving forward, maintaining the same pace, the same path, with the feeling that I was entering a different part of the city.