Chapter 121
Nille instinctively thought about the ancient book he had stored inside Nyx's dimensional storage.
If the vision had truly originated from the book, perhaps he could examine it while the memory was still unfolding.
Yet the moment he tried to access the storage space, he discovered he couldn't.
There was nothing.
No connection.
No response.
It was as though the Celestial Cloth itself had been pushed beyond reach.
Even Nyx's presence had vanished from his awareness.
The realization confirmed what he already suspected.
Whatever he was experiencing existed outside the normal functions of the artifact.
He was no longer merely observing a recording.
He had become part of the experience itself.
Unable to do anything else, Nille continued following the young boy, Temria, and the others as they traveled deeper into the ancient landscape.
The further they walked, the more familiar the direction became.
Nille's eyes narrowed.
Based on the position of the underground chamber and the mine tunnels he knew in the present day, they were heading toward the distant mountain range.
Toward what would eventually become the deepest region of Sector Twelve.
More specifically...
Toward the location that should have been directly behind the ancient chamber.
Toward the World Tree.
The realization sent a faint chill down his spine.
Minutes passed.
Perhaps longer.
Time felt strange within the vision.
Then Nille saw something that immediately caught his attention.
A stone archway.
Unlike the structures surrounding it, this one looked strangely familiar.
Its shape.
Its proportions.
The countless rune carvings etched into its surface.
Even after countless centuries, Nille recognized it immediately.
A dimensional gateway.
A fixed transit portal.
The same type of ancient transportation artifact found only in the oldest ruins.
Yet this one was fully functional.
The runes covering the stone frame glowed faintly as the group approached.
Temria stepped forward.
Without hesitation, she placed her hand against one of the carved symbols.
The effect was immediate.
Light surged through the runic pathways.
The entire archway awakened.
Ancient symbols ignited one after another until the structure resembled a doorway made of living starlight.
The young boy laughed excitedly.
Several others stepped forward.
Then, one by one, they entered.
And vanished.
The moment Temria crossed the threshold, Nille felt something seize him.
A tremendous force suddenly pulled him backward.
The ancient world around him distorted.
The landscape shattered into fragments of light.
The sky stretched.
The mountains dissolved.
The image collapsed as though someone had abruptly ended a film.
For an instant, Nille saw the stone archway shrinking into the distance.
Then everything disappeared.
His vision cleared.
Silence returned.
The familiar ten-foot chamber stood before him once more.
The altar remained empty.
The ancient lights still glowed softly along the walls.
Outside the doorway, Rune Forge personnel continued walking past the chamber entrance as though nothing unusual had occurred.
Workers carried equipment.
Engineers discussed reports.
Artifact handlers moved between containment stations.
Everything proceeded with perfect normalcy.
As if no centuries-old vision had just unfolded before his eyes.
Nille stood still.
Then a thought immediately occurred to him.
"The book."
This time Nyx responded instantly.
"Yes, Master?"
The familiar voice was almost startling after such a long absence.
"Take out the book."
A moment later, the ancient barkcloth manuscript appeared in his hands.
Exactly where he had stored it.
Unchanged.
Silent.
Innocent-looking.
As though it had never shown him anything at all.
Nille stared at it for several seconds.
Then he asked the question that had been bothering him.
"Nyx."
"Yes, Master?"
"Did I stop moving?"
A brief pause followed.
Then Nyx answered.
"Affirmative."
Nille's eyes narrowed.
"How long?"
"Approximately seventeen seconds."
Seventeen seconds.
Nille blinked.
The experience had felt far longer.
At least several minutes.
Perhaps more.
Yet according to Nyx, less than half a minute had passed.
"And my condition?"
"Your physical body remained standing."
Nyx continued.
"Vital signs normal. No signs of distress. No observable abnormalities."
Another pause.
Then she added:
"From the perspective of external observers, you appeared to enter a brief trance-like state while walking out on the 4th chamber were the book was found."
Nille slowly looked toward the chamber entrance.
Several Rune Forge workers walked past without even glancing his way.
No one seemed concerned.
No one had noticed anything unusual.
To them, he had simply stood there for a few moments.
Meanwhile, he had witnessed an ancient world, followed a long-dead child across a forgotten civilization, and watched a dimensional gateway activate thousands of years in the past.
His gaze slowly lowered toward the book in his hands.
The cover remained unchanged.
The World Tree.
The strange serpent-like figure.
For the first time, Nille wondered if the Barkcloth book's true contents had never been written in ink. because when he open it again there were now writings on it.
Nille stared at the ancient barkcloth book resting quietly in his hands.
The cover remained unchanged, displaying the image of the great tree entwined by the mysterious serpent-like figure. There were no glowing runes. No divine revelations. No hidden words suddenly appearing across the blank pages.
Yet he knew better now.
The book was not empty.
It simply revealed its contents differently.
Somewhere within its silent pages lay fragments of a forgotten world, waiting to be experienced rather than read.
Another puzzle.
Another mystery.
Another thread connected to a destiny that seemed to grow larger every time he uncovered an answer.
Before Nille could lose himself in those thoughts, Nyx's familiar voice echoed within his mind.
"Master Nille, I recommend rest."
Nille let out a tired breath.
For once, he didn't argue.
The excitement of the discoveries, the vision from the book, the revelations regarding his bloodline, and the countless questions now swirling inside his head had pushed him closer to his limits than he had realized.
Only now, as the adrenaline faded, did he notice the heaviness in his body.
His muscles felt sluggish.
His thoughts were becoming increasingly difficult to organize.
Even his eyes felt tired.
Nyx was right.
There would still be mysteries waiting tomorrow.
The ancient doors were not going anywhere.
Neither was the book.
Nor the World Tree.
Nor the forgotten civilization buried beneath the swamp.
Nille closed the book and returned it to storage.
The artifact vanished in a flash of light.
Then he glanced around the small ten-foot chamber.
The altar now stood empty.
The ancient illumination artifacts continued casting their gentle golden glow across the stone walls.
It was surprisingly peaceful.
Quiet.
Safe.
Without another word, Nille slid down against the wall and settled into a comfortable position.
The stone was cool against his back.
Outside the chamber, Rune Forge personnel continued their work.
Workers passed by the open doorway carrying crates filled with recovered artifacts.
Engineers discussed excavation plans.
Dwarven supervisors barked instructions at teams cataloging newly uncovered discoveries.
The sounds were distant.
Steady.
Reassuring.
A reminder that life continued moving forward.
Several workers noticed him resting inside the chamber.
None disturbed him.
Most simply nodded respectfully as they passed.
Others lowered their voices before continuing on their way.
Even among the busy activity, an unspoken understanding spread through the excavation teams.
The young man resting against the wall had earned his peace.
Nille slowly closed his eyes.
His final thoughts drifted toward the smiling boy from the vision.
Toward Temria.
Toward the ancient gateway.
Toward the World Tree hidden somewhere beyond the mountains of a forgotten age.
Questions remained.
Far too many questions.
Yet for the first time in a long while, Nille felt strangely calm.
Perhaps because every answer he uncovered only confirmed what he had begun to suspect.
His path had never been ordinary.
And somewhere deep within that forgotten past, something had been waiting for him all along.
The sounds of excavation gradually faded into the background.
His breathing slowed.
The weight pressing against his mind loosened.
And while the ancient chamber continued bustling with activity around him, Nille finally surrendered to exhaustion.
Within minutes, he was asleep.
Unaware that the barkcloth book that automatically went back inside Nyx's storage had begun emitting a faint pulse of light.
A pulse so weak that no instrument detected it.
A pulse that appeared only once.
Like a heartbeat.
And then vanished.
When Nille finally opened his eyes, for a brief moment he forgot where he was.
The cool air against his skin quickly reminded him.
The ancient chamber.
The buried civilization.
The sealed doors.
The mysterious book.
Slowly sitting up, he noticed something draped over him.
A blanket.
Nille blinked.
He didn't remember covering himself before falling asleep.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Someone from Rune Forge had probably noticed him sleeping and quietly placed it over him without disturbing his rest.
For a moment, he simply sat there, allowing his mind to clear.
Then he stood and stepped out of the small southern chamber.
The sight that greeted him was completely different from when he had fallen asleep.
The excavation site had transformed.
The enormous circular chamber was now remarkably organized.
The centuries of dust, ash, and debris had largely been cleared away. Containment crates lined designated sections of the walls. Portable rune lamps illuminated work areas. Cataloging stations had been established around the perimeter.
It no longer looked like a forgotten tomb.
It looked like a professional archaeological operation.
Yet signs of exhaustion were everywhere.
Many Rune Forge personnel were asleep.
Some rested against containment containers.
Others had spread blankets across sections of the floor.
A few dwarves were snoring loudly enough to rival excavation equipment.
Nille's gaze eventually landed on the center of the chamber.
The elevated circular altar that had once been buried beneath ash was now completely visible.
Near it, several staff members sat quietly drinking from steaming metal cups.
Coffee.
Or something close enough.
Most were speaking in hushed voices so as not to disturb the others.
Then Nille noticed an especially familiar sight.
Head Merchant Rume Ironbark.
The old dwarf was sprawled across the chamber floor.
One arm was draped over a container.
His beard spread in every direction.
His helmet served as a pillow.
And his snoring echoed through the entire excavation site.
A nearby worker had apparently given up trying to wake him hours ago.
Nille couldn't help but chuckle.
The merchant leader looked completely at peace.
As if he had personally conquered the chamber and claimed it as his kingdom.
"Good morning, Master Nille."
The voice drew his attention.
A half-elven staff member standing nearby gave him a polite nod.
"Lady Nhulla is over there."
Following the gesture, Nille spotted Nhulla Loresong seated near the central altar with several senior personnel.
The half-elf administrator immediately noticed him.
A warm smile appeared on her face.
"Finally awake?"
Nille walked over.
"How long was I asleep?"
"About six hours."
Nille raised an eyebrow.
Longer than he expected.
Nhulla gestured toward an empty seat beside her.
"Come join us."
One of the dwarves immediately handed over a freshly prepared cup.
The rich scent of coffee drifted upward.
Nille accepted it with a quiet thank you and sat down.
The warmth felt surprisingly welcome against the underground chill.
Only now did he notice how cold the chamber actually was.
Without sunlight reaching this depth, the temperature remained noticeably lower than the surface.
Nhulla wrapped her hands around her own cup before glancing down at the watch on her wrist.
"It's four in the morning."
Nille looked around.
"It doesn't feel like it."
Nhulla nodded.
"Because the sun hasn't risen yet."
She tapped the crystal display on her watch.
"Time in Sector Twelve is strange."
Several nearby personnel nodded in agreement.
One of the engineers let out a tired laugh.
"We've been tracking it since arriving."
Nhulla continued.
"The daylight cycle here is longer than normal."
She looked upward as though she could somehow see the sky beyond countless layers of stone.
"At first we thought our watches were malfunctioning."
"They weren't."
Nille took a sip of coffee.
"So the sector has a different day-night cycle?"
"That's our current theory."
Nhulla nodded.
"The difference isn't huge, but it's measurable."
She smiled faintly.
"Honestly, after everything we've discovered down here, longer nights are one of the less surprising things."
Several people laughed quietly.
Nille found himself relaxing.
For the first time since entering the chamber, there was no rush.
No crisis.
No immediate mystery demanding answers.
Just tired people sharing coffee beneath an ancient civilization buried by time.
For a brief moment, it almost felt normal.
Almost.
Then his eyes drifted toward the southern chamber behind him.
Toward the place where the empty book had shown him a forgotten world.
And suddenly, Nille wasn't entirely sure whether the strange pulse he had seen before falling asleep had truly been his imagination.
There were only three people awake at the small makeshift coffee station near the center of the chamber.
Nhulla Loresong.
Another half-elven staff member.
And now Nille.
The rest of the excavation team was either asleep or quietly resting after an exhausting day of cataloging ancient relics and securing the newly opened chambers.
The half-elven woman sitting beside Nhulla picked up a metal kettle and poured fresh coffee into Nille's cup.
"Allow me to introduce myself," she said with a friendly smile. "Bronze Staff Erma. I currently serve under Silver Team Leader Nhulla Loresong."
Nille accepted the coffee with a nod.
"Thank you. I'm Ni"
Erma immediately raised a hand.
"Respectfully, Master Nille, there's no need."
Nille paused.
The half-elf laughed softly.
"We already know who you are."
Nhulla nearly smiled into her cup.
Erma continued.
"In fact, I would be surprised if anyone within Rune Forge doesn't know who you are by now."
Nille looked genuinely confused.
That only made the two women smile more.
Erma leaned back slightly.
"You're the person responsible for the largest contribution Rune Forge has received in years."
"That's an exaggeration."
"It really isn't."
Nhulla finally joined the conversation.
"The castle."
Nille immediately understood.
Nhulla continued.
"The transportation network."
"The dimensional gateway."
"The settlement."
"The trade routes."
"The discoveries beneath the swamp."
"The ancient chambers."
"The artifacts."
"The historical records."
"The mining expansion."
"The merchant opportunities."
She calmly took another sip of coffee.
"All of those trace back to you."
When listed together like that, even Nille found it difficult to argue.
Erma nodded enthusiastically.
"Most people only hear pieces of the story. We work directly under Lady Nhulla, so we see the reports."
She gestured toward the chamber around them.
"Everything we're sitting in right now exists because you decided to investigate an abandoned swamp."
Nille looked around the enormous circular hall.
The thought felt strange.
He never intentionally sought achievements.
Most of the time he was simply following his curiosity.
Somehow, that curiosity kept leading him toward ancient civilizations, forgotten treasures, and impossible mysteries.
Erma seemed to notice his expression.
"That's actually the part people talk about the most."
Nille blinked.
"The discoveries?"
"No."
The half-elf smiled.
"The fact that you don't seem to care about the recognition."
That earned a quiet laugh from Nhulla.
"It's true."
Nille frowned.
"I care."
"No," Nhulla corrected. "You care about the discoveries."
The distinction made him pause.
After a moment, he realized she wasn't wrong.
The treasures interested him.
The knowledge interested him.
The mysteries interested him.
But titles, fame, and recognition had never held much appeal.
Erma pointed toward the sleeping dwarves scattered throughout the chamber.
"Most of them would follow you into another ancient ruin without asking questions."
"That's concerning."
"It probably should be."
Even Nhulla laughed at that.
For a brief moment, the three sat quietly together, drinking coffee while the ancient chamber remained peaceful around them.
The sounds of snoring dwarves echoed occasionally through the hall.
Most notably from Head Merchant Rume Ironbark.
The old dwarf suddenly rolled over in his sleep and muttered something about charging dragons additional storage fees.
Nobody questioned it.
After everything they had experienced, it somehow seemed perfectly normal.
Nille took another sip of coffee.
Warm.
Strong.
Simple.
For the first time since awakening, he allowed himself to relax.
Nhulla Loresong took a slow sip from her coffee before looking toward Nille.
The half-elf seemed hesitant at first, as if carefully choosing her words.
"May I ask something, Master Nille?"
Nille glanced at her over the rim of his cup.
"You can ask."
Nhulla nodded.
"I'm not trying to pry."
Her tone was sincere.
"But I've worked with Rune Forge for many years. Before that, my parents worked here as well."
She paused briefly.
"As a half-elf, I age slower than most humans. I've had the opportunity to see several generations of students pass through Yamatai Academy."
Nille remained silent and listened.
"A few of those students became famous."
Nhulla's gaze drifted across the ancient chamber.
"Some contributed greatly to academic knowledge."
"Others revolutionized trade."
"Some discovered new shamanic techniques."
"A handful even changed the balance of power on the island itself."
Her eyes returned to him.
"But I've never seen anyone uncover so much in such a short period of time."
The statement wasn't praise.
It was simple observation.
Even Erma seemed interested in hearing the answer.
Nille stared quietly into his coffee.
Truthfully, he had asked himself the same question many times.
Why him?
Why did he keep finding these things?
Why did every path seem to lead toward another mystery?
Another hidden door.
Another forgotten piece of history.
After a moment, he shook his head.
"I don't really know."
Nhulla looked surprised by the honesty of the answer.
Nille stared toward the southern chamber.
The chamber where he had found the barkcloth book.
The chamber where he had witnessed the past.
The chamber that felt as though it had been waiting for him.
"It isn't something I consciously look for."
His voice was calm.
"Most of the time I simply follow a feeling."
Erma tilted her head.
"A feeling?"
Nille nodded.
"Instinct."
He searched for the right words.
"Sometimes it's like noticing something that shouldn't be there."
"Sometimes it's curiosity."
"Other times..." he paused briefly, "...it feels like something is quietly pulling me in a certain direction."
The two women listened carefully.
Nille frowned slightly.
"It sounds strange when I say it aloud."
"Not really," Nhulla replied.
He looked at her.
The half-elf smiled faintly.
"People like to think destiny announces itself with thunder and miracles."
She gestured around the chamber.
"But most life-changing decisions begin with a small feeling."
"A question."
"A choice."
"A step taken for reasons nobody fully understands."
Nille considered her words.
Perhaps she was right.
Yet what he experienced felt different.
Far more deliberate.
Almost personal.
As though invisible threads had been woven through his life long before he was born.
The spirit boy beneath the tomb.
The Seed Bearer.
The Celestial Cloth.
The strange anomalies surrounding his awakening.
The forgotten civilization.
The World Tree.
The book.
The bloodline records.
None of them felt random anymore.
Nille lowered his gaze.
"If I'm being honest..."
He paused.
"It sometimes feels like fate itself is tapping me on the shoulder."
The chamber became quiet.
Even Erma stopped drinking her coffee.
Nille continued.
"Not pushing."
"Not forcing."
"Just pointing."
His eyes drifted toward the darkness beyond the excavation site.
"Like something keeps whispering that I'm supposed to keep moving forward."
The words lingered in the air.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Nhulla released a slow breath.
"That's a dangerous feeling."
Nille smiled faintly.
"I know."
The half-elf nodded.
"Because there are people who spend their entire lives chasing destiny."
Her expression softened.
"And there are people destiny refuses to leave alone."
Erma hesitated for a moment before speaking again.
"Master Nille, pardon my intrusion."
Nille looked at her and nodded.
"It's fine."
The half-elf seemed relieved before continuing.
"It seems you possess a very deep lineage."
She tapped her fingers lightly against her coffee cup.
"In awakened families, that isn't entirely unheard of. The older a bloodline becomes, especially one tied to spiritual traditions, the more likely dormant traits are to emerge in later generations."
Nille listened quietly.
Erma smiled slightly.
"Most people assume awakening begins with them."
"It usually doesn't."
"It simply means they're the first person in the family to notice."
Nhulla chuckled softly.
"That's actually true."
Erma nodded.
"Many awakened abilities are inheritable. Not always directly, but through bloodlines, traditions, spiritual exposure, and ancestral connections."
She leaned back slightly.
"When Lady Nhulla and I were students, we saw examples all the time."
Nille looked interested.
"Such as?"
Nhulla set her cup down.
"There was a student from the Hoshikawa family."
"Their clan had produced diviners for nearly six hundred years."
"Nothing spectacular."
"Most could only perform minor fortune readings."
"But every few generations, someone was born capable of seeing fragments of future possibilities."
Erma nodded.
"I remember him."
"The academy thought he was cheating during tactical examinations."
Nille raised an eyebrow.
"He wasn't?"
Nhulla laughed.
"He simply knew which choices would most likely succeed."
"He couldn't see the future perfectly."
"But his instincts were frighteningly accurate."
Erma immediately offered another example.
"There was also a girl from the Valemont family."
"Her bloodline carried an affinity toward spiritual beasts."
"Nothing unusual at first."
"But when she awakened, every Abyan within a hundred meters became unusually calm around her."
"Even aggressive creatures."
Nhulla smiled.
"One of the professors spent an entire semester trying to figure out if she was secretly using charm spells."
"She wasn't."
"It was simply her bloodline."
Nille nodded slowly.
Those examples sounded familiar.
Not because of the abilities themselves.
But because they had manifested naturally.
Like something inherited.
Like a continuation.
Erma continued.
"The older the family, the stranger the inheritance becomes."
"Sometimes it's talent."
"Sometimes it's affinity."
"Sometimes memories, instincts, or behaviors that appear without explanation."
Her expression became thoughtful.
"And occasionally..."
She paused.
"A descendant appears who embodies something much larger than the bloodline itself."
The chamber became quiet.
Nille already knew where the conversation was heading.
Erma looked at him apologetically.
"I'm not saying that's you."
"But..."
Nhulla finished the thought.
"Most students discover things."
Her eyes drifted toward the ancient chamber surrounding them.
"You seem to be discovered by them."
The words drew a rare laugh from Nille.
Unfortunately, the more he thought about it, the less absurd it sounded.
The Celestial Cloth.
The Seed Bearer.
The spirit boy.
The forgotten tomb.
The barkcloth book.
The visions.
The ancient bloodline records.
None of them had been things he actively searched for.
Yet somehow they kept finding him.
As if pieces of an unfinished story were slowly gathering around him.
Erma took another sip of coffee.
"Whatever the truth is, Master Nille, if your lineage really stretches back as far as you suspect..."
She glanced toward the southern chamber.
"Then your awakening may not be the beginning of the story."
Nille stared into the dark liquid inside his cup.
The spirit od Neda, final words echoed faintly within his memory.
"You are blessed by my sister."
A blessing that had crossed centuries.
Survived wars.
Outlived kingdoms.
Passed through generations of people who never knew it existed.
If that was true, then Erma was right.
His story hadn't begun when he awakened.
It hadn't even begun when he was born.
Somewhere far in the distant past, long before Yamatai Island existed, before kingdoms rose and fell, before entire civilizations disappeared beneath the earth, someone had planted a seed.
And now, for reasons he still did not understand, it had finally begun to grow.