🏛️ Chapter 52
The morning of departure was colder than usual. A creeping fog blanketed the Sinjai Academy's southern gate where the portal to the Fragment of Ash had been stabilized. This wasn't an ordinary dungeon—it was a ruin of history, sealed and forgotten, now cracked open once again by fate… or perhaps something darker.
🚪 The Portal Opens
Vice Principal Thorne stood with several Diamond-tier Seekers and instructors, forming a protective ring as the students lined up, geared and ready. Magical tattoos shimmered on their necks and arms—temporary bindings to suppress power surge accidents.
"Enter only with courage," Thorne warned. "This dungeon is a living memory. It doesn't just hold monsters. It holds echoes. And echoes can drive the weak mad."
The portal shimmered, a swirling vortex of black and violet flame.
Team 9 stepped forward.
Anshi whispered, "You ready?"
Aeren looked into the portal. His fingers tingled. His thoughts felt distant.
"No," he said honestly. "But let's go."
They stepped in.
🧱 Inside the Fragment
It was like walking through broken time. The halls weren't ruins—they were frozen moments. Statues that bled. Candles that burned backward. Walls that pulsed like living flesh.
"What is this place?" Lynx asked, spinning his daggers nervously.
"It's not built," Aeren murmured, his eyes glowing faintly. "It's remembered."
He could hear the memories whisper. Old screams. Spells from centuries ago still echoing.
The team moved cautiously until the first threat emerged—a Wraithclaw, a Class-4 monster made of smoke and bone, slithering along the walls.
But Aeren was calm.
With just a glance, he analyzed its movement, read its aggression, and pointed.
"Strike from below. It's hiding its core under the tail. Left side, after it swings."
Lynx blinked. "How the hell do you—"
"Just go," Aeren said, eyes locked on the creature.
They followed his lead. In seconds, the Wraithclaw fell.
Anshi stared at Aeren, her heart pounding. That wasn't just training. That was… prophecy.
🧩 A Forgotten Seal
Deeper in, past a chamber of shifting lights, they found it.
A circular room.
Seven obelisks.
One missing.
And a throne made of stone and veins.
"This room feels… wrong," Drekal said.
Aeren stepped toward the throne. Something in him ached to sit.
And then—
FLASH.
A surge of vision. A tidal wave of memory.
He stood in this room, ages ago. Wearing a cloak. Sitting upon the same throne. Watching monsters kneel… and scream.
"They feared you once," a voice said in his mind."They'll fear you again."
The obelisks lit up—one by one.
Then a scream broke the air.
"MONSTER!!"
From the corridor behind, another team had entered. One of their members, bleeding, pointed at Aeren—his eyes glowing silver, the throne pulsing with old magic.
"What are you!?"
🧠 Fragment of Control
Aeren gasped. The power was leaking out. Not by choice.
He looked at the student who shouted—and accidentally saw his mind.
Every thought. Every fear. Every lie. Every murder he committed in secret.
The power to read thoughts. Pierce guilt. Crush shame.
Aeren recoiled. He didn't want it. But the throne remembered.
Anshi grabbed him. "Aeren, let go of it! You're not that person! You're you!"
The throne trembled.
He let go. Collapsed.
🕷️ A Deeper Threat
But the dungeon wasn't done.
As they prepared to leave the chamber, the walls split open.
From the shadows emerged a Level 7 creature—a Murkweaver Spider, corrupted by ancient curse energy.
Too strong for a first-year team.
It hissed.
"YOU… WHO SAT ON THE THRONE… SHALL NOT LEAVE."
Everyone froze.
Except Aeren.
He stood up slowly. His eyes bled silver light.
"You don't decide who leaves."
And then… the air cracked.
🔚 End of Chapter 52