Knock knock.
"Captain, it's Leina. Dinner's ready, nya."
At Leina's voice, I opened my eyes and rose from my seat, my mind now crystal clear.
The plan is complete.
While lost in thought, I'd mapped out every opportunity awaiting me since arriving in the territory—from which characters among the countless options to recruit as allies, and how.
Finally, every piece fell into place.
I opened the door and stepped out. Leina, still showing faint signs of tension, greeted me warmly.
"This way, nya."
Following her lead into the dining hall, I found Head Steward Walter and my companions already seated, waiting for me. All eyes turned to me at once.
"You've arrived, Lord Astra."
Walter bowed politely.
"Yes. You've heard everything, I assume?"
He bowed deeply again at my question.
"Yes, the vice captain filled me in on the details. I'll personally escort the villagers here with knights in all due haste."
"Good."
I nodded.
The position of head steward in a lord's castle wasn't for just anyone, and he seemed reliable enough.
Walter caught his breath before continuing.
"Since this is under the Lord's direct control, I reported to the Lord's Castle. Word has come down: a new lord will be appointed shortly."
As expected, the Lord's Castle had acknowledged the situation without issue.
I'd worried they might quibble since it's direct territory, but no matter.
I gathered my thoughts and addressed my waiting companions.
"Eat."
No one moved at first.
Only when I scooped a spoonful of creamy mushroom soup with the silver spoon and brought it to my lips did they tentatively begin.
Delicious.
The soup melted smoothly in my mouth, leagues beyond the village fare.
Next came herb-infused supreme bread, tender veal tenderloin steak with roasted vegetables, and finally vanilla pudding drizzled in sweet berry sauce.
A perfect course fit for a lord's table.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇The room was utterly silent, not even a breath to be heard. Outside the window, pitch-black darkness blanketed the night.
Perfect dead of night.
The moment everyone had fallen into deep sleep, I quietly—slowly—opened my eyes.
Now.
I slipped soundlessly from the bed and grasped the worn doorknob.
Easing my grip, I turned it with utmost care.
Creeeak...
I pushed it open as slowly as possible, but the door still groaned heavily.
My heart skipped, but the surroundings remained still.
Through the crack, the dim corridor revealed itself.
A strange, unfamiliar atmosphere unlike the daytime. Faint moonlight seeping through windows was my only guide.
No signs of life in the empty hall. Only my breathing and cautious footsteps broke the silence.
Every step on high alert, I traced the route etched in my memory from the game.
Second corridor on the right... third door.
Following the castle's map perfectly stored in my mind, I moved mechanically.
The structure was complex, but hundreds of hours in the game had ingrained it deep in my body.
Long corridor, turn the corner, short passage... yes, right there.
At last, my destination: a weathered wooden door.
No decorations, no markings. Just an ordinary, aged door.
But I knew.
This was the gateway I had to pass to claim the trait.
Tension and anticipation quickened my pulse.
I steadied my breath and gripped the knob with trembling fingers.
Creeeak—!
More worn than expected, it let out a louder, rougher creak this time.
I froze, senses straining down the corridor, but silence held.
Whew, safe.
Getting caught wouldn't be disastrous, but quieter was better.
As the door swung fully open, the sight before me stole my breath.
"Whoa...
Bookshelves towered impossibly high to the ceiling, crammed floor to wall in every direction.
An endless feast of tomes. The scent of old paper and mold stung my nose sharply.
Yes, the opportunity in the lord's castle lay in this forgotten, dusty library.
The previous lord probably didn't even know it existed.
Even if he had, claiming it wouldn't have been easy.
The opportunity wasn't just sitting there—it was hidden behind an entrance cleverly concealed within the library.
Scanning around, I recalled the game's memory.
Past the second shelf...
My gaze dropped to the floor.
Left from the spot with twelve stacked books...
I stepped slowly, surveying.
It should be right around here...
I stopped and checked meticulously. Then, a book on the shelf caught my eye.
Faded red, tinged orange from age.
Found it.
A faint smile crossed my lips.
I reached out and pulled the worn red book free.
The thick leather cover vibrated subtly against my fingertips.
As if the book were alive.
Faint gold lettering on the cover, too eroded to read.
"Looks ordinary at first glance, but..."
I opened it.
The moment from the game arrived.
Whoosh—
Air swirled violently around me, a powerful suction pulling from the pages.
Like invisible hands dragging me in.
Dust danced in the moonlight, sparkling in the vortex.
Thud!
The book slipped from my hand, hitting the floor.
In the moonlit, silent library, only the fallen, worn red book remained.
As if it had all been an illusion.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙You have entered the Temple of False Names.
I opened my eyes to that notification.
"Made it in without a hitch. Good."
The Temple of False Names.
The place accessed via that red book, where one could obtain a special-grade trait.
Unlike other special-grade sites, finding it was straightforward—but being inside the lord's castle made access nearly impossible.
Yet its level requirement was notably low, if you could reach it.
"Fenrir."
I summoned Fenrir first and scanned our surroundings.
"Just like in the game."
A cave-like space stretched before me.
Gray stone walls dotted with faintly glowing minerals provided dim light.
An endless straight passage lay ahead.
This deceptively simple path is the most dangerous.
I knew from game intel.
Step carelessly, and hidden traps activate.
Poison darts from walls, flames erupting from floors, toxic gas from ceilings... One mistake meant death.
But knowing them made it manageable.
"Fenrir, follow my orders precisely."
I mounted Fenrir and fixed my gaze forward.
"Left!"
First trap: flames from the floor. Fenrir dodged nimbly.
Shhhk—!
"Right now, then jump!"
Poison darts whistled from the walls, but Fenrir evaded effortlessly.
The collapsing floor trap followed, cleared with a leap.
Whoosh—!
Fenrir accelerated to escape the gas pouring from above.
We moved as one.
My directions, Fenrir's instant responses—every trap bypassed perfectly.
Thank god for Fenrir. Without him...
I'd planned to hitch a ride on Rowen at first.
Traps grew denser.
Flames and darts triggered simultaneously; gas fell faster.
Dodge one, face another.
"Fenrir, three steps right! Jump now!"
Fenrir twisted right as flames shot up; mid-air, we cleared the darts.
"On landing, hug the left wall! Wall-run!"
Fenrir's paws skimmed the wall while floor traps triggered harmlessly below.
Whew... feels real.
Truth was, all these traps were illusions.
Not entirely— one real arrow fired amid hundreds of phantom ones.
The brain processed phantoms as real barrages.
True to the Temple of False Names,
It didn't just distort physical scale.
It amplified and twisted the 'value' and 'meaning' of all things.
A candle's flame became a blaze; harmless bug poison, a mass-killer toxin.
Know it's fake and walk through? Can't.
Your brain buys the illusion as hyper-real—hit, it hurts; err, you die.
And the special-grade trait here matched that.
False Name Imprint
Simple reason I targeted it:
Closest opportunity, sure—but with it...
A basic sword swing looks like ultimate swordsmanship brimming with worldly truth;
Tripping becomes a transcendent, spacetime-defying maneuver.
Of course, unlike the temple, wielding a sword with the trait yields no extra power.
Fancy show or not, a normal strike is normal. Just appears divine to others.
In-game, a special-grade trait not worth pursuing.
But for me? Perfect.
In a situation where I bluff with showy abilities like now, no trait fits better.
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Read 211 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
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