Waiting at the site were three others, all with their faces concealed. Two stood close together—likely companions—while the third was a hunched old man lingering alone by the well.
The moment Audrey arrived, the old man spoke:
"I'm certain there's a decent ruin down there. Plenty of valuable finds, if I'm not mistaken. You all know my reputation."
"As for what kind of ruin it is… I can't say for sure. But judging from what I've already dug up, it should date back to the Cromwell era."
At the mention of Cromwell, all three—Audrey included—felt a stir of excitement.
Ruins from that period were rarely disappointing. As long as luck wasn't terrible, they could expect to uncover something worthwhile.
Back then, after Duke Cromwell's upheaval in the capital—when he dispersed the Parliament by force—he began aggressively suppressing the nobility, seizing lands and wealth across the realm.
To avoid confiscation, many noble families had hidden their treasures, intending to reclaim them someday.
But fate wasn't kind.
A great number of those nobles ended up on the execution block.
And with them gone, the locations of their hidden caches were lost.
Which meant one thing—
Ruins from that era were often filled with buried riches.
And if fortune truly smiled on them…
They might even find complete advancement potions prepared by noble families for themselves or their heirs.
Seeing their reactions, the old man knew he had them hooked.
That meant no need to worry about their effort later.
Beneath his mask, his lips curled upward.
"In that case, we'll proceed as agreed. I'll lead you to the passage I uncovered. After that, we explore together, and anything we find is split evenly. Fair?"
This had already been discussed, so the others simply nodded in agreement.
Under the old man's lead, the group entered the abandoned sewer.
---
Elsewhere, Mozo had already arrived at the library and settled into his daily self-study.
His coursework and credits were complete. All that remained was graduation—and with recommendations from both faculty and mentors, applying to major companies afterward.
But that didn't mean he could afford to slack off.
He had no power, no status—just a commoner trying to survive in a world dominated by nobles and exploitation.
He had to keep improving himself.
So even with graduation secured, he still came to study.
In an age where over eighty percent of people were illiterate, knowledge was as good as gold.
Just as he picked out his reading for the day, a small wave of noise broke the silence.
Mozo rubbed his forehead with a sigh.
The library was sacred. Quiet was expected—even professors carried themselves with restraint here.
Except for a certain group.
The high nobility.
They were the empire's true power holders. And even places like the university—and the library—made concessions for them.
Sure enough, a young noble soon entered, surrounded by attendants.
At his side, a beautiful girl clung to his arm.
The Rose of the Floriculture Faculty—Anna.
Like Audrey, she was one of the faculty's standout beauties—arguably one of the most stunning in all of Cromwell University.
But unlike Audrey, Anna was nobility.
A baron's daughter.
That alone was enough to set her apart from commoners.
Which was why she was far more likely to be seen beside powerful noble heirs.
Mozo had heard before that she hadn't been particularly close to any one noble—though she kept several admirers dangling.
Yet now, she walked intimately beside a high-ranking noble's son.
Had her family finally chosen which house to align with?
Or was something else at play?
The thought passed quickly.
Mozo didn't dwell on it.
Instead, he watched with a hint of envy as the pair headed up to the second floor.
That place held knowledge reserved for nobles.
Though Cromwell was a national university open to commoners, restrictions were everywhere.
The library was a perfect example—
Commoners were limited to the first floor.
The second floor belonged to the nobility.
And above that was the third floor—off-limits even to most nobles, accessible only to the highest-ranking families and senior officials.
Each level was guarded by armed sentries.
Old-fashioned muskets, perhaps—but more than capable of killing.
It was one of the most heavily secured places in the entire university.
Then another murmur spread.
Anna had accompanied the noble straight to the third floor—
a place few had ever set foot in.
Mozo's envy deepened.
Being a noble really was something else.
If he ever got the chance—
he'd find a way into that world.
---
Deep within the sewer ruins, Audrey's mask was long gone.
Her fitted knight's attire, once pristine, was now torn in several places.
Combined with her panicked footsteps, it was obvious—
she was in serious trouble.
In the labyrinthine depths of the ruin, she kept glancing back in terror, checking whether the guardian was still pursuing her.
Regret surged through her.
This wasn't a Cromwell-era ruin.
It was far older—
an elven ruin.
And worst of all—
its guardian was still active.
Suddenly, the wall in front of her exploded outward.
A massive steel arm burst through, blocking her path.
Before she could react, another arm shattered the wall behind her, cutting off her escape.
The next moment, a towering, grotesque iron construct forced its way through, its crimson eyes locking onto her.
Audrey's pupils shrank.
Her hand shot to her waist—
then froze.
Her expression turned bitter.
She was out of runes.
No escape.
Her legs trembled as she backed against the wall, face pale with despair.
Then the construct spoke.
The language was strange—harsh, elongated, yet oddly melodic.
And… familiar.
"Intruder. Die in fear… and repent." (Ancient Elvish)
With a sharp metallic sound, a rune-etched greatsword extended from its arm, slowly lifting toward her throat.
With nowhere left to run, Audrey collapsed inward, sobbing as she frantically prayed to every god she knew.
No answer came.
Even if they had heard her, no god would respond to a plea without offering, without ritual.
The blade pressed closer—
just enough to graze her delicate neck.
And then—
for reasons she couldn't explain—
a memory surfaced.
That awkward, unfamiliar phrase Mozo had spoken.
She shouted it.
"The King of Glory, greater than the sun!" (Ancient Elvish)
And in that instant—
a miracle happened.
The iron construct froze.
Then, in a voice tinged with astonishment, it spoke:
"You know the King's true title…? Are you a slave?" (Ancient Elvish)