The Skeleton Soldier Failed to Defend the Dungeon

”Kevin... Ashton.”

I hadn’t expected to encounter his name here, yet perhaps I should have. Whenever I brushed against beings that dwelled beyond the veil of the world, Ashton’s name always surfaced as if by design.

”Why? Is he one of your favorite authors?”

Naneow’s tone carried no particular emotion. Maybe it was no surprise. I was probably the only one whose stats rose and whose mysterious Assimilation Rate dropped just by looking at Ashton’s books.

”Something like that.”

I let the subject drift away after giving a vague answer. I had spoken of regression and absorbing Lurium, but the Assimilation Rate was something I had never revealed to anyone.

”That’s interesting,” Naneow commented.

”What is?” I asked.

”Look at the cover.”

I turned my gaze to the book’s cover, which I had ignored in my surprise at seeing Kevin Ashton’s name. The faded illustration showed a massive wheel beneath countless interlocked cogs. The wheel itself was slightly warped, its ends linked together in the center, meshing the front and back. A silver liquid writhed along its surface as if it were alive, flowing and twisting around it. I stared blankly at the point where the ends joined.

”A wheel without an inside or outside,” Naneow murmured, watching my reaction. ”A symbol of eternal repetition. When you told me about regression, this is what immediately came to mind. I still don’t quite believe it.”

Drawn in, I gazed at the wheel for a while, then opened the book. Kevin Ashton’s name was written there, so I had no reason to hesitate. I turned to the first page.

”A picture book?”

”Yes. A folktale? A fairy tale, maybe. Something like that. Read slowly.”

Naneow sank back into an armchair, relaxing her muscles while I read the book.

The humans lived peacefully along the riverbank, beneath the mountain. All year, the weather was warm, and the forest offered fruit at any time.

A mother said to her child, ”We don’t know how we were created, but we live well. We are happy.”

The father nodded. ”We are happy.”

The fish pierced with spears by the river, and the wild boars whose meat became delicious simply by roasting without seasoning, also nodded.

”Humans are wonderful.”

The child grew. Instead of fishing with a line, he caught fish with nets. He fenced in sheep and pigs and raised them. He killed crocodiles along the river with a long spear and stripped their hides.

The skinned crocodiles praised him. ”Wow, you’re truly remarkable.”

The child nodded. ”Of course. I am human.”

The child continued to live happily with his friends. Then, one day, great monsters appeared.

I turned the page emotionlessly.

Flip.

Is this simply the introduction of monsters?

Yet, the illustrations showed nothing more than larger versions of humans, with translucent tentacles trailing from their backs into some unseen connection.

That sight was not unfamiliar, as I had once hunted something similar alongside Isaac. It resembled fragments of an apostle. Dark air seemed to rise from the tentacles drawn on the page, swirling and flickering.

The monsters said, ”Why don’t you fight one another?”

The grown children were bewildered.

”Us? We....”

”Boring.”

Before hearing an answer, the monsters opened their mouths wide. They bit down, gnawing and crunching the humans to pieces. The village rang with horrid noises. Terrified, the people tried to flee, but the monsters pursued them.

The strong legs once used to hunt boars were chewed to the bone. The brains that once pondered meals were leisurely dissolved and lapped up by monstrous tongues.

The monsters laughed aloud. ”Hahaha!”

Then, at some point, they stopped chasing. Humans wept until their eyes were dry, running without rest. Hungry and thirsty, they found the surface too dangerous. So they fled deep beneath the ground.

The illustrations shifted underground. The humans were emaciated, their postures and expressions twisted beyond recognition. Their eyes bulged and gleamed, desperate to catch the faintest reflection of light in the dark tunnels. Afraid of hitting their heads, they bent forward, their faces pale, and walked hunched. On the tunnel wall, words were written in small letters.

”The path... of freedom.”

”Yeah,” Naneow said softly. ”Didn’t you say you traveled there a few times?”

I kept turning the pages. The book obsessively depicted monsters hunting humans, not only on the surface, but even within the earth where they sought refuge. It described in grotesque detail how flesh and muscle were torn, how joints were snapped and ripped free, and how even the finest capillaries were drained.

After reading such anatomical horror, I finally came upon a different kind of illustration. Though tiny compared to the monsters, above a human’s head were letters larger than the figure itself. The human rose, tore the monsters apart with both hands, drank from their severed necks, ripped away their tentacles, and shared the scattered corpses and blood with the other humans.

Founder Seiron.

As the words remained inscribed above his head, I traced them lightly with my fingertip and turned the page.

However, when all the monsters seemed to have been slain, one last creature remained.

”The last monster? Where is it?”

The people did not know, but Seiron knew. The monster was in the first city that the people had fled to. It lay hidden beneath what had now become the greatest and most prosperous city.

The tale of Seiron was familiar, but I had never heard of the last monster before. I stared at the illustration of the city.

”This is...” I trailed off.

”It’s rough and hard to recognize,” Naneow admitted. ”But if you look at the outline, it has to be here.”

Even without her explanation, I knew. Just the plain of light beyond the gate tunnel was enough. It was the imperial capital.

On the next page, a withered black hand reached upward from beneath the ground. Shadows spread through the city, absorbing the silver Lurium that powered the great wheels. As the Lurium drained away, the wheels came to a halt, one by one. The sight unsettled me far more than it should have.

Perhaps it’s because when Seiron sought to slay the monster hidden underground...

I felt an emptiness pressing down my back.

[Assimilation Rate has decreased.]

[64.97% → 64.51%...]

The rest of the page had been cleanly torn out.

[Wisdom has increased by 1.]

”...”

I stopped turning the pages and looked at Naneow. She sat across from me, her gaze fixed squarely on mine. The ”human” who had lived for three hundred years gently rotated her neck in a full circle, never breaking eye contact. Her silver hair shimmered in the darkness like flowing Lurium.

The shimmer stilled when she shared her thoughts with me. ”It’s an absurd fairy tale, isn’t it? There’s no theory or explanation. In addition, half of it has been torn out. When I saw you absorb Lurium, I remembered that wheel illustration, and this book came to mind.”

”Hmm... nothing comes to me.”

”Really? Well...”

Naneow twirled a strand of hair around her finger, tapping the table idly with the other hand. I glanced at the back cover. The same wheel was drawn there. Between the final sentence and the cover itself, more than half the book had been grotesquely ripped away.

I never knew exactly how or when the Assimilation Rate fell, but I always had to read Kevin Ashton’s books in full to gain stats. Skimming quickly never worked. If whole chunks like this were missing, my Wisdom shouldn’t have risen. And yet it had.

Does that mean what remains might be complete in itself? Or is the missing part just misdirection?

If so, then I needed to focus on what was still here.

”So this last monster... it means it’s under the capital?”

Naneow shook her head. ”Wouldn’t Seiron have slain it? There are plenty of sources suggesting Lurium rests in the imperial reserve.”

”I see.”

”Even if the pages were torn out, the story must end with Seiron killing the last monster and claiming the Lurium. That’s why the imperial family inherited it. Otherwise, how could they control it so thoroughly?”

Her reasoning made sense. Transport and export for war had always been subject to imperial will.

Still, if it is such an ordinary tale of a hero’s triumph, why was the ending torn away? Or why does it look torn away? Could that itself be the clue?

I couldn’t answer those questions immediately, so I asked something else instead. ”Naneow, did you ever try entering the imperial reserve?”

Few lived as long or grew as strong as Naneow Tropin. I naturally thought she would have tried, but she immediately dismissed the thought.

”No. The barrier was too strong. No one unauthorized could force their way in. Honestly, I don’t think it belongs to this era.”

That reminded me of what Isaac had said. He had said that the sky, the land, and the underground were all sealed. If even Naneow and Isaac acknowledged that, then only those with sanction could pass. The Lurium leaving the reserve was not any safer, because Ashen Knight would appear and slaughter everyone.

Except me. If I pierce the barrier and enter the reserve... that thing might be waiting.

Could it be tied to the last underground monster in the book?

The connection eluded me, so I asked, ”What are you thinking?”

Naneow crossed her legs and leaned back in the armchair. ”Why don’t we share what we know about Lurium? I’ll tell you my results, too.”

I had no reason to refuse. I told her in detail about absorbing Lurium, its depletion, and the circuit Isaac had drawn inside me.

”You’ve received something priceless... such a circuit!” Naneow exclaimed, astonishment plain in her voice as she peppered me with questions.

Her own findings were equally striking. She had information about a drug that granted explosive strength when even a drop of Lurium was mixed and injected into a human, blueprints of Embermere’s machines powered by Lurium, and even detailed explanations of their mechanisms.

”That’s... complicated,” I commented.

”Shall I explain again?”

[You have repeatedly acquired the principles of Magitech.]

[Enhanced teaching method has been applied.]

[Experience Points for Magitech Lv. 0 have greatly increased.]

At this pace, I would soon reach the next skill level. Naneow even demonstrated how to prepare a reagent that contained a quarter-drop of Lurium.

”But this is like making gold from copper,” Naneow admitted. ”Using it purely as mana fluid is far more efficient. That way, the reagent can be separated back out.”

[You have acquired a Special Recipe.]

[Experience Points for Magical Alchemy Lv. 3 has slightly increased.]

Instead of an exchange of knowledge, it was more like a full-blown lecture.

A day passed by.

A familiar presence shoved open the log-cabin door.

Clatter!

”Rena?”

She entered and directly gazed at me. ”Yes, it’s me. You still haven’t changed your mind?”

”My mind?”

”Are you really going to meet him?” Rena asked, her tone tinged with irritation.

There was no need to ask who. She was obviously talking about the Empire’s hound, the high-in-demand marquis.

”Of course.”

Rena arched an eyebrow and exhaled sharply. ”Hoo...”

As if resigned, she muttered, ”I arranged a meeting with Leandro. He wouldn’t give me time to stall... true to his nature, he set the date himself. It’s tonight.”

”Tonight?”

”Yes. Otherwise, he won’t see you. And he wasn’t bluffing.”

”He keeps his word,” Naneow added.

”You’ll be accompanying him, won’t you, founder?” Rena asked Naneow.

”Of course.”

”That’s some relief... but still, be careful. Agreeing to a meeting isn’t the same as promising not to kill you.”

Naneow chuckled, adjusting the scythe resting at her side. I didn’t know her full strength, but if Rena trusted her, that was enough. Besides, I had intended to face the marquis anyway, with or without companions.

”Very well. Where?”

”I chose the place. The Seventh Nameless Cemetery.”