《Void Crypt of the Forsaken Ruins: Unknow Sea》 Chapter 00: Ruins from the Abyss The sea roared in an invisible fury, like a chained beast thrashing in despair. The waves surged¡ªnot merely water and foam, but colossal arms reaching from the abyss, tearing at the pitch-black sky. The wind howled, carrying the echoes of the damned, merging into the mournful dirge of the ocean. In the darkness, the Nereidian Sea was no longer itself. Three months ago, the ocean floor trembled. A colossal ruin emerged, piercing through the murky depths as if an ancient soul had risen from its grave. Crumbling walls jutted out, silent as tombstones, engraved with cryptic symbols in a language unknown to humankind. These were not just stones, not mere remnants¡ªthey were cursed fragments of a lost civilization, a vast mausoleum buried beneath the tides. No one knew to whom they once belonged, when they were built, or why they had been forsaken by time. But what struck terror into people''s hearts was not the ruins themselves. At the heart of the structure stood a magical gate¡ªan eye of the cosmos, a bottomless vortex staring straight into the essence of reality. It was not carved, nor was it constructed by mortal hands. It was a tear, a fracture in the world. The first ones to enter vanished¡ªno trace, no farewell. Then, some returned. "What lies within is not our world. It is something else. A Void Crypt." News spread like wildfire in a storm. Adventurers, thrill-seekers, the desperate¡ªall flocked to this sea, yearning to unravel its untold mysteries. But the Void Crypt did not welcome them as a treasure trove waiting to be plundered. Those who stepped inside were scattered, cast into separate layers¡ªstrange and disparate worlds hidden beneath the waves. Some who lived to tell the tale recorded their findings: "There are at least twelve distinct domains."

[Coral Labyrinth]

A boundless maze of coral, stretching to the horizon. The water¡¯s surface was as smooth as glass, reflecting the sky so perfectly it blurred the line between worlds. But beauty was a deception. The creatures lurking here did not roar, did not hunt with reckless abandon. They lay in wait, camouflaged among the brilliant reefs, watching, patient. Those who strayed too far became one with the labyrinth, their remains woven into its deadly embrace.

[Whirlstorm Vortex]

A perpetual magical storm, not merely wind and raging tides, but a living force ruling over the sea. Waves towered like cliffs, lightning carved the sky with relentless fury, striking down like divine punishment. None could pass unless they could quell the storm¡¯s wrath¡ªif such a feat was even possible.

[Ghostly Shipwreck]

A graveyard of spectral vessels adrift in a sea of jagged rock. Skeletal sailors still roamed their decks, bound by an eternal curse. Black vines coiled around masts like chains anchoring the damned. Yet the greatest terror was not the restless dead, but the nameless entities lurking in the mist¡ªseen only when it was far too late.

[Sunken City]

An ancient metropolis, swallowed by the sea for thousands of years. Cracked stone roads, submerged palaces, statues eroded by time. It all lay in stillness, but deep within the ruins, faint lights flickered from submerged towers¡ªa sign of life, or of something that had long abandoned death.

[Bioluminescent Bay]

A bay aglow with magic, where countless luminous creatures painted the waters with celestial radiance. A breathtaking sight, mesmerizing yet perilous. Any disturbance to the surface would reveal an intruder¡¯s presence¡ªmarking them as prey for what lurked in the shadows below. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

[Kelp Forest]

A sunless jungle beneath the waves, where colossal seaweed stalks twisted like ancient trees, obscuring all vision. The pathways within shifted endlessly, transforming the forest into a living labyrinth. Here, in the pitch black, predators lay in ambush¡ªwaiting for those who would never find their way out.

[Endless Sea]

A vast expanse with no land, no landmarks¡ªonly infinite water stretching into oblivion. No stars above, no winds to guide, just a motionless surface concealing secrets unknown.

[Lost Islands]

Islands that appeared and vanished without reason, adrift between dimensions. Those who set foot upon them might never return, forever trapped in a land that was never meant to be.

[Drowned Catacombs]

A sunken necropolis of marble corridors, glowing with an eerie green luminescence. Wandering spirits and nameless guardians protected secrets buried for millennia. The water levels shifted unpredictably, turning safe passage into a sudden, watery grave. Now, the crypt had resurfaced once more.

[Salt Flats]

Once the ocean floor, now a barren expanse of white salt. By day, it lay empty and unassuming, but by night, a black liquid seeped from beneath¡ªbringing with it creatures that had slumbered in the abyss for eons. There was no fresh water, no visible life¡ªonly the whispers of the wind carrying unseen voices.

[Dreaming Tides]

A realm where the waves carried the dreams of the dead. The sea shimmered softly, lulling travelers into slumber. But to sleep here was to gamble with reality¡ªone might awaken in a different time, a different world, or face echoes of oneself from another existence. Floating isles drifted between dreams and nightmares, where treasures and horrors intertwined.

[Ruins Maze]

A vast, underwater labyrinth of shifting walls and ancient doors sealed by time. Paths twisted, reshaping themselves endlessly, ensnaring any who dared enter. A maze with no exit¡ªunless one was strong enough, or mad enough, to defy its will. There were no fixed rules in this domain. The only means of travel between layers was by ship¡ªthe sole vessel capable of navigating this chaotic sea. But could these ships withstand what lurked beneath? A harsh truth soon became clear: no one could leave a layer without finding the next gate. These gates did not simply appear¡ªthey had to be earned. To progress, one had to slay the ruler of each domain¡ªbe it a monstrous leviathan, a cursed king, or a vengeful specter. Only when the overlord fell would the [Gates of The Drowned Expanse] emerge, revealing the path forward. But at times, the gate opened of its own accord, as if it alone decided who was worthy to continue. Not all who entered returned. Some ships vanished without a trace. Those who did return bore vacant eyes, whispering of a place their minds could never leave. Yet others emerged with treasures¡ªartifacts unclaimed by history, relics drenched in curses none dared touch. To this day, no one knew where the depths of the dungeon led, nor its true level of danger. Today, the Empire launched its third expedition into the dungeon. Their goal: to locate the missing royal fleet from the last voyage and uncover the secrets still hidden below. The harbor bustled with life¡ªadventurers gathered, forming parties, preparing supplies. Merchants shouted over one another, selling rare artifacts such as the [Eye of the Frost Lizard], a recording device to document the perilous journey in exchange for royal rewards. Maps from previous expeditions, preserved rations, and specialized weaponry were all on sale¡ªat exorbitant prices. At the docks, captains rushed to register their ships. Those without vessels scrambled to join existing crews. From noble warships to ramshackle rafts, countless vessels stood ready to set sail. This voyage would carve new legends into the ocean¡¯s depths. Who would return? Who would become one with the abyss? And now, leaving behind this vast sea of stories, we turn our gaze to a small loft in the port town of Felariel, where a young Dark Elf was savoring the quiet life of retirement. Chapter 1: Dark Elfs life For Raizen, never before had he felt such peace as he did now. Leaving behind the days of wandering through the dungeons of Newt Earth, forgetting the moments of struggling as an adventurer against monsters. At this moment, Raizen was nothing more than a retired Dark Elf in his eighties. At that youthful age, while his peers were selling themselves to the gears of society, Raizen preferred to stay in one place, in an old loft filled with the faint scent of decaying wood. Raizen¡¯s loft was small, just enough for him to stretch his legs comfortably while still feeling the closeness of the four walls. The old wood smell mixed with the salty sea breeze, tinged with the faint stench from the fish market below. It wasn¡¯t an overwhelming scent; rather, it had seeped into the wood grain, woven into the air, creating a quiet, familiar warmth. A single bed nestled against the corner, the mattress worn but still soft enough for him to rest after long days. A small window right beside it allowed the weak morning sunlight to creep in and carried the briny sea wind. The breeze rustled the makeshift fabric drapes hanging from the ceiling¡ªRaizen¡¯s simple solution to dull the oppressive heat of sweltering days. The room wasn¡¯t cluttered with belongings. A small wooden table, its surface covered in scratches and ink stains, where he often sat sharpening knives or scribbling fleeting thoughts into an old notebook. A rickety bookshelf packed with a chaotic mix of books¡ªgrimoires, old maps, and a few diaries of strangers he had picked up from various dungeons. In the corner sat a heavy iron chest, storing relics from his days of adventure: a chipped dagger, a cracked ceramic mask, and several magical gems whose glow had long since faded. There was nothing luxurious or spacious about this place, but to Raizen, it was the only sanctuary where he could feel at peace. A home where he could forget the restless days of roaming, the life-and-death battles, and even the outside world, where people relentlessly chased the endless cycle of life. In this tiny loft, he was no longer an adventurer, no longer an ambitious Dark Elf. He was merely a young man who had chosen to stop. And yet, today might be the last day of that peace. As he leisurely sipped on a cup of Robusta¡ªbrewed from a long-expired bag of coffee¡ªwell past noon, his unfinished book lying open before him, a loud pounding on the door erupted, accompanied by a shrill voice that stabbed into his pointed ears. "Old man Raizen! Old man Raizen! Today¡¯s the deadline for your rent!" The voice rang out, punctuated by insistent knocking, grating against the Dark Elf¡¯s patience. He scowled, furrowing his brows, downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp, and strode over to open the door. "What is it, Meredith? Do you have any idea that you¡¯re disrupting my midday peace?" Before him stood a human girl, no older than seventeen or eighteen, with fiery orange-red hair and a petite frame. But despite her size, she certainly wasn¡¯t the least bit adorable at the moment¡ªbecause Meredith was the landlord of this lodging house. "Disrupting your peace, my ass! You¡¯ve owed rent since my grandmother¡¯s time, then my mother¡¯s, and now it¡¯s my turn! You haven¡¯t paid rent in fifty damn years!" Meredith yelled, jabbing a dusty feather broom straight at Raizen¡¯s face. Raizen sighed, slipping out of the narrow doorway and leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded as if he had just been roused from a century-long slumber. "You¡¯re mistaken. I remember quite clearly¡ªit¡¯s only been thirty years." He tilted his chin slightly, voice dripping with lazy indifference. Meredith¡¯s grip on the broom tightened, her brown eyes blazing. "You say that like thirty years is a small number!" Raizen shrugged. "For a Dark Elf, it¡¯s really not that long." Meredith was so furious she nearly jumped. "Raizen, I¡¯m serious! If you don¡¯t pay your rent, get the hell out! You¡¯re not an adventurer anymore, so where the hell do you plan to get money? Are you waiting for me to die so my future children can come collect your debt too?!" "Not a bad idea." Raizen nodded, his gaze turning distant as if genuinely considering the possibility. Meredith let out an enraged screech, lifting the broom like she was about to smack him over the head. "I swear, I will beat you right here if you keep talking like that!" Raizen frowned at the dust-covered broom hovering dangerously close to his face, then slowly reached out to push it aside. "Meredith, you know¡­ you¡¯re really annoying." Meredith nearly coughed up blood. "I¡¯M annoying?! I¡¯m only annoying because YOU don¡¯t pay rent! How the hell can you shamelessly stay here for so long, you worthless Dark Elf¡ª" "Alright, alright, I¡¯ll think about paying." Raizen cut her off, his tone entirely lacking sincerity. He reached for an old coat hanging near the door, draped it over his shoulders, and made his way down the narrow wooden staircase. "But for now, I need to go out and get some fresh air." Meredith stood frozen, mouth agape, as if unable to believe what she was witnessing. "Raizen! I¡¯m not done with you yet! Raizen¡ª!" If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Her shouting was soon swallowed by the bustling noise of the fish market below. Raizen yawned, shoved his hands into his coat pockets, and strolled along the cobbled streets. The sky was clear today, and a gentle sea breeze drifted through the air. He thought, perhaps he¡¯d buy some pastries before deciding whether or not to pay his rent. The coastal town in the afternoon held a unique charm. Sunlight stretched over the old-tiled roofs, reflecting in shimmering patches on the mossy stone-paved streets. The salty sea air mingled with the scent of dried fish, herbal fragrances from roadside eateries, and the musty aroma of aging wooden hulls from anchored ships. Seagulls circled overhead, occasionally letting out their hoarse cries, blending into the lively sounds of the fish market. Raizen shoved both hands into his coat pockets¡ªa habitual gesture, as if by some miracle, a few stray coins would roll out from the bottom. But no. His pockets remained as empty as ever. ¡°Damn those High Elf legends. Nothing but a bunch of dreamers.¡± He sighed. Long ago, this former A-rank adventurer had stopped caring about money. Back in the day, he spent lavishly¡ªfeasting on delicacies, drowning in the finest liquor, and squandering gold on artifacts he never even used. But that was a lifetime ago. Those glorious days had faded into the past, leaving behind only a broke, unemployed Dark Elf surviving in a dingy attic room of an old boarding house, with a landlady who was quickly running out of patience. ¡°Shit...¡± Raizen muttered as he strolled through the market, his gaze idly drifting over the stalls. He had no money to buy anything, yet he still found himself stopping in front of a small roadside bakery. Neatly arranged on a wooden tray were freshly baked honey pastries, their sweet aroma wafting through the air. His stomach let out a quiet, involuntary growl. The vendor, an elderly woman with silver hair, greeted her customers with a warm smile. Raizen quickly turned away. He refused to be the kind of man who stood there drooling over food he couldn¡¯t afford. Continuing down the street, he mulled over how to keep his lodging without paying¡ªat least not yet. Meredith was a stubborn girl, but she wasn¡¯t cruel. He knew she wouldn¡¯t throw him out immediately¡­ not yet, anyway. But if he wanted to buy more time, he needed a way to appease her. "Maybe I should get a job?" The thought flashed through his mind but was immediately dismissed. He hated working. The mere idea of toiling away for a handful of silver made him want to end it all right there. "Scamming someone?" No¡ªif he went too far, Meredith would kill him for real. "Becoming an adventurer again?" Not a chance. He was done with dungeons. "Marriage?" That was the ultimate taboo. Not because he feared women, but because the shackles of marriage were worse than any prison sentence. Raizen sighed, turning his gaze toward the sea. In the distance, fishing boats glimmered under the golden hues of sunset, drifting on what looked like a sea of molten gold. "Maybe I should just go beat up some dumb thugs..." He smirked. Yeah. Before considering honest work, he might as well see if he could shake some money loose from the town¡¯s lowlifes. Raizen turned into a narrow alleyway wedged between two run-down buildings. The air was thick with the stench of garbage, stagnant water, and decay¡ªa stark contrast to the salty breeze outside. Sunlight barely reached here, leaving behind patches of shadows where rats and scoundrels lurked. It didn¡¯t take him long to find them. Deeper in the alley, a group of men huddled around a wooden crate, empty bottles and rusted knives scattered atop it. Their clothes were filthy, stained with sweat and grease. Scarred arms and faded, crude tattoos hinted at a life of violence and desperation. Raizen made sure to step loudly as he approached. One of the thugs immediately looked up, bloodshot eyes locking onto Raizen¡¯s pale golden irises. His lips curled into a sneer, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. "The fuck is this? A lost pointy-eared bastard wandered into the wrong street?" Raizen leaned against the grimy stone wall, arms crossed, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Surprised to see you lot still alive. Thought you''d have starved by now. So how the hell do you still afford booze?" The gang burst into laughter¡ªnot out of discomfort, but genuine amusement. "Who the hell are you calling starving?" One of them chuckled, tapping his bottle against the crate. "We might be broke, but at least we¡¯re not stuck drinking that bitter sailor''s sludge from the docks!" "Yeah!" Another thug slapped his knee. "This guy probably only knows how to drink that expired Robusta shit from the old days¡ªbitter as hell, like drinking sewage!" "Fuck, I bet he can¡¯t even tell the difference between coffee and mud!" They howled with laughter, one of them even raising an imaginary toast, as if offering Raizen a sip of some god-awful concoction. A vein twitched on Raizen¡¯s temple. He could tolerate insults. He could handle being looked down on. Hell, even death threats didn¡¯t bother him much. But making a joke out of coffee? That was an unforgivable crime. His smirk vanished. His voice dropped, cold and sharp as steel. "Seems like all you fuckers have left is your shit-talking." A burly, bearded thug immediately stood up, dragging a few others with him. Another slammed his bottle against the crate hard enough to nearly shatter it. His sunken, sleepless eyes glared daggers at Raizen. "You wanna say that again?" Raizen raised an eyebrow, pretending to think. "Did I say something offensive?" He took a slow breath and exhaled. "Oh, wait. I was just wondering¡ªhow rock-bottom do you have to be to drink swill like that?" "Son of a bitch!" One of them shot up, fingers white-knuckled around his knife. The whole group surged to their feet, surrounding Raizen. Their faces contorted in anger, their bloodshot eyes burning with violence. Some ground their teeth, others clenched their fists, veins bulging from their foreheads. The air thickened with the stench of sweat, cheap alcohol, and impending bloodshed. Raizen cracked his knuckles, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. This was going to be fun. Chapter 2: Dark Elf & The Strange Ship But at that very moment¡ª BOOM! A deafening explosion erupted from the direction of the harbor, followed by the reverberations of splintering wood, snapping ropes, and the panicked screams of people. The group flinched. The rage from earlier was wiped clean, replaced by a surge of instinctive vigilance. Hands gripping dagger hilts hesitated; clenched fists loosened ever so slightly. For a fleeting moment, this dark alley no longer mattered¡ªsomething bigger, something far more dangerous had just happened outside. Raizen frowned, his sharp eyes scanning the source of the sound. An uneasy feeling crept up his spine, an inexplicable foreboding. "What the hell was that?" one of the thugs muttered, his voice laced with unease. "No ships were supposed to dock at this hour." No one answered. But no one was thinking about the brawl anymore. Footsteps gradually moved away from the narrow alley, drawn toward the harbor. The crimson hues of the sunset bled across the sky, painting the sea in an ominous red. In that dying light, a massive ship had just pulled into port. Its wooden hull was waterlogged, still dripping with briny seawater. A single glance was enough to tell¡ªthis ship was anything but normal. Its sails were in tatters, shredded as if clawed apart by some unseen force. The entire hull was coated in mud, seaweed, and an unfamiliar, viscous slime clinging to its surface in patches, as though the ship had just risen from some foul abyss deep beneath the ocean. The salty wind carried the stench of rotting wood, mingled with something else¡ªsomething foul, thick, and suffocating. Raizen instinctively narrowed his eyes. By now, a crowd had gathered at the docks, murmuring amongst themselves. Some were curious, others cautious, but all were drawn to the crates being unloaded by the surviving sailors. A sharp clatter rang out as one of the crates was pried open. And then¡ªsilence. The setting sun reflected off piles of gold coins, jewels, and glittering gemstones¡ªso brilliant, so dazzling that no one could look away. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. "Look at that! It''s real treasure!" One of the thugs nudged Raizen, his voice brimming with excitement. But Raizen remained silent. He stood still, arms crossed, his gaze locked onto the ship. Something wasn¡¯t right. The sailors and adventurers continued unloading crates. But as they reached the last few, the atmosphere aboard the ship changed completely. The men carrying the cargo suddenly froze. The earlier excitement vanished, replaced by a suffocating tension. One sailor, his hands trembling, reached for the tarpaulin draped over the final shipment. He pulled it back¡ªslowly. Beneath the fabric lay corpses. Dozens of them, piled haphazardly, twisted and grotesque. Some had been torn clean in half, their entrails spilling out in horrific display. Others had been stripped of flesh entirely, leaving behind brittle, bloodless bones, corroded as if something had devoured them. Blood¡ªno, a thick, blackened residue of what was once blood¡ªstained the wooden deck, pooling like oil slicks. A few of the corpses still clutched their weapons, their eyes wide open, staring¡ªvacant, hollow. They had not died ordinary deaths. They had died in terror. The harbor fell into an eerie stillness. No one spoke. No one even dared to breathe too loudly. Only the gentle lapping of waves against the hull filled the air, mingling with the nauseating stench of death. Raizen clenched his fists. He was no longer an adventurer, but he had seen too much to feign surprise. A team of explorers had returned from a newly discovered dungeon at sea¡ªbringing back treasure, and bringing back death. He took a quiet step back. "Raizen," one of the thugs whispered, his voice trembling. "How the hell did they die?" Raizen did not answer. But something still gnawed at his nerves. His gaze shifted toward the survivors of the voyage. None of them looked pleased about the fortune they had returned with. Instead, they seemed like walking corpses¡ªhollow-cheeked, exhausted, their eyes vacant. One sailor stood motionless, his fingers digging into his shoulder as he muttered something under his breath¡ªwords too faint to make out. Then, suddenly¡ª "AAAHHHH!!" A bloodcurdling scream shattered the silence. One of the adventurers¡ªone of the few who had made it back alive¡ªclutched his throat, staggering forward before collapsing onto his knees. He thrashed violently, fingers clawing at his own skin, his nails digging in so deep that blood erupted from the fresh wounds. It was as if he was desperately trying to rip something out from within himself. Thick, dark blood gushed from his mouth¡ªno, not blood. A pitch-black, tar-like substance, viscous and unnatural. The entire harbor watched, frozen in horror, as his body convulsed, trembled¡ªbefore suddenly going rigid. A trickle of black fluid seeped from the corner of his mouth. His eyes rolled back, whites glaring under the dying light, as if witnessing something beyond comprehension¡ªsomething no one else could see. Then, with a final, sickening thud, he collapsed. Dead. No one spoke. No one moved. Raizen gritted his teeth. He knew. This wasn¡¯t treasure. This was a curse. Chapter 3: Formless Terror However, he had no interest in troubles that had nothing to do with him, nor did he want to get involved with anyone in this chaotic mess. ¡°Let¡¯s go. We shouldn¡¯t stay here too long.¡± Raizen turned away, his hand just about to rest on the shoulder of one of the thugs when¡ª From the far end of the port entrance, the hurried, frantic sound of footsteps echoed. A small figure burst out from the alley above the harbor, running as if her very life depended on it. It was Meredith. She nearly stumbled down the dock, her tangled red-orange hair flying behind her, breath ragged, face pale from the sheer speed at which she had been running. Her dress was covered in dust and stained with water, likely because she had rushed out of the inn without a single thought for anything other than getting here. Raizen wasn¡¯t surprised to see Meredith appear. The name she was about to call had surely been lingering on her lips from the moment that ship came into her weary sight. And just as he predicted, Meredith almost crashed into the group of adventurers, her panicked eyes desperately searching each exhausted face before she grabbed one of them by the arm. ¡°Where¡¯s Arcadith?!¡± The question sliced through the air like a blade cutting across the surface of a still ocean. The woman Meredith clung to froze momentarily. Her mouth opened, lips trembling as if to form words, but no coherent response came out. Silence stretched on. None of the returning adventurers answered the desperate girl before them. Meredith glanced at each of them, confusion gradually giving way to sheer dread in her crimson eyes. At the mention of Arcadith¡¯s name, a few of them looked away. One of them clenched the bandages wrapped around his arm, as if it had suddenly become the most important thing in the world. Another lowered his head, staring at his seawater-soaked boots, biting his lip so hard it seemed he might draw blood. Raizen didn¡¯t need them to say it. He already knew the answer. And clearly, Meredith did too. Her breathing turned shallow and erratic. She shook her head, fingers tightening around the fabric of the man¡¯s sleeve. ¡°No¡­ That¡¯s impossible.¡± Her voice was hoarse, as if something had lodged in her throat. ¡°You must be mistaken. He¡¯s strong! There¡¯s no way¡ª¡± The adventurer she clung to swallowed dryly. He didn¡¯t meet her eyes, only shook his head slightly. His lips moved, forming a silent, barely whispered ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± yet it was enough to drain every last bit of strength from the girl¡¯s fingers. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Meredith let go. Her eyes widened, hollow and empty. Her lips trembled, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Then suddenly, she turned and bolted toward the ship. ¡°Meredith.¡± Raizen¡¯s voice was cold. He didn¡¯t raise it, but it wasn¡¯t a call¡ªit was an order. She didn¡¯t stop. She either didn¡¯t hear him or didn¡¯t want to. She kept running, weaving through the murmuring crowd, heading straight toward the stacks of wooden crates piled along the dock. Raizen narrowed his eyes. He hadn¡¯t planned to interfere. But the way those adventurers remained silent irritated him. That wasn¡¯t the silence of those unwilling to speak. It was the silence of those too afraid to. And that was always the kind of silence that made everything worse. As she neared the ship, Meredith was stopped by a Black Orc woman¡ªher body gaunt and worn, dark skin littered with scars. ¡°There¡¯s nothing left here.¡± The orc woman held onto her own severed right arm, glancing at Meredith with an unreadable expression before jerking her chin toward the pile of corpses on the dock. ¡°Go find him.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re lucky, his body might still be intact.¡± Meredith froze. No one pulled her back. No one tried to stop her. No one even offered her pity. They just stood there, silent, avoiding her gaze as if afraid that if they looked too long, they¡¯d be swallowed by her despair. ¡°No¡­ No way.¡± Meredith swallowed dryly, forcing herself to breathe. ¡°Arcadith¡­ He can¡¯t be in that pile.¡± Her steps faltered, her legs nearly giving out beneath her. The stench of death hit her the moment she got close¡ªa foul mix of salt, dried blood, and something so rotten it had seeped into the air itself. She nearly gagged, instinctively clamping a hand over her mouth to suppress the nausea. But she didn¡¯t stop. Step by step, she knelt down, peeling back the cloth that covered the mangled corpses. The first face. Not Arcadith. A middle-aged man, eyes wide open in horror, mouth frozen mid-scream. The second. A woman. Her face was so disfigured it was barely recognizable, one half torn apart by something that was no human weapon. The third. Not him. The fourth. Not him. ¡°Not him. Not him. Not him!¡± Meredith¡¯s fingers dug into her palms, nails piercing her skin until blood trickled from her clenched fists, yet she didn¡¯t even feel the pain. She kept searching. Kept looking. Kept sinking into despair. But¡­ he wasn¡¯t here. Arcadith wasn¡¯t here. Under the burning crimson sunset, beneath the buzzing of flies over decaying flesh, she stopped. She knelt amidst the corpses, staring blankly into nothingness. She should feel relieved, right? If he wasn¡¯t here, it meant he was still alive. If Arcadith wasn¡¯t among the dead, it meant there was still hope. But¡­ why¡­ Why was the only thing she could feel an overwhelming, bottomless dread? Because nobody didn¡¯t mean he was alive. There were things worse than death. And she had seen the fear in the eyes of those who survived. Meredith didn¡¯t know how long she had been kneeling there, only that when she finally looked up, her eyes had turned completely empty. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± The deep, gravelly voice of the ship¡¯s captain cut through the haze, pulling Meredith back from the edge of her formless terror. Chapter 4: Arcadiths letter She blinked, taking a second to recognize the man before her¡ªa middle-aged sailor with a scruffy black beard, clad in a wrinkled uniform, his eyes etched with crow¡¯s feet from the sea winds and endless years adrift on the ocean. Meredith swallowed dryly, her cracked lips trembling. ¡°¡­Meredith.¡± The captain gave a slight nod, as if confirming something, before slowly reaching into his coat and pulling out an object wrapped in yellowed waxed cloth. ¡°Arcadith¡¯s sister, right?¡± Her heart pounded. She couldn¡¯t speak, only manage a small nod. The man observed her briefly before placing the parcel into her hands. It felt unnervingly heavy, as if the weight of Arcadith¡¯s very life was pressing down upon her palms. ¡°He left this behind. Before we departed.¡± Meredith could hardly breathe. She silently unwrapped the waxed fabric. Inside was a stack of old letters, their edges crinkled by seawater but the writing still intact. And the first words she saw¡ª ¡°To Meredith.¡± She clenched the letter in her hands, biting her lip to keep from sobbing at the very first line. "Mer, if you¡¯re reading this¡­ it means I didn¡¯t make it back." She trembled. A sharp pain shot through her chest, as if a cold chain had tightened around her heart. "I hoped this wouldn¡¯t happen. But if it has, I want you to know¡ªit¡¯s not because I was weak, but because some things simply cannot be won." She took a deep breath, but the air wouldn¡¯t fill her lungs. "How have you been? Is the innkeeping going well? Don¡¯t let customers scam you out of your money, alright? I don¡¯t want to come back and find out you¡¯ve been bullied." A choked laugh escaped her throat. ¡°Idiot.¡± Always acting as if he were still here. But then, the next line hit her like a slap. "If you ever receive this letter, I need you to promise me one thing¡ªdo not look for me. No matter what, don¡¯t search for me." Meredith gripped the paper tightly, her fingers pressing into its edges so hard she nearly tore it. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. "I don¡¯t know how I¡¯ll die. But if you don¡¯t find my body¡­ then maybe I¡¯m still alive. But that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m still Arcadith." Everything tilted. A cold shiver ran down her spine, making her fingers go numb. "I love you, Mer. Keep living, no matter what happens." Hot tears fell onto the letter. Meredith clenched her fists, biting her lip until she tasted blood. But there was still one more letter. She stared at it, her eyes burning red. It was written under a different name. Not far away, Raizen had never been one for tragic farewells. He didn¡¯t like watching people cry. Didn¡¯t care for last words or sentimental nonsense. Hated all those dramatic ¡°live on for me¡± speeches. But when Meredith turned around, when her eyes met his¡ªhe knew this wasn¡¯t just another grieving farewell. She didn¡¯t say anything. No calling his name, no pleading. Just her eyes. Red-rimmed, but dry. And in them, something heavier than tears. Raizen sighed. He stepped away from the group of thugs, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, moving with a lazy indifference. But the moment Meredith held out the letter, he took it without hesitation. The name on the envelope made him frown. "To Uncle Raizen." He paused for a second. Then, he ripped open the letter. "Raizen. You must be pretty annoyed reading this, huh? I know you hate this kind of sentimental crap, but tough luck¡ªI don¡¯t like writing farewell letters either." "First of all, thank you." "If it weren¡¯t for you, I never would have become an S-rank adventurer." Raizen snorted, a faint smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. "S-rank? This kid really made it, huh." "Do you remember the first time you trained me? I was clueless back then. Just some brat who thought wielding a sword made him a hero. If you hadn¡¯t beaten some sense into me, I¡¯d still be running around, lost in my own stupid dreams." "You always told me I was too reckless. That I wasn¡¯t ready. I argued back, trying to prove I was strong enough." "And now¡­ I guess I lost." Raizen tightened his grip on the letter. Every word was clear, but he didn¡¯t want to read the rest. He had a bad feeling about it. "But it¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t regret it. I lived the life I wanted." "There¡¯s only one thing that worries me." "Meredith." His fingers curled tighter around the paper. "You know, she¡¯s strong, but she¡¯s still just a girl living in this rundown town. Without me, she¡¯ll be alone." "So I¡¯m asking you." "Take care of her." "You don¡¯t have to do anything grand. Just be there, so she doesn¡¯t have to face the world alone. I don¡¯t want her turning around and finding nothing but emptiness." "I know you¡¯ll do it. No matter how much you grumble or complain, I know you¡¯re not heartless." "So, that¡¯s that." "Goodbye, Uncle Raizen." "Thank you, for being my second father, one last time." Raizen folded the letter. He stood still. No cursing. No frowning. No outburst. Just his eyes, staring into nothingness, as if crushing every word he had just read. Meredith remained where she was, waiting. He didn¡¯t say anything. He didn¡¯t know what to say. But even though no promise was spoken aloud¡ªRaizen knew he wasn¡¯t going anywhere. Chapter 5: Heros death Suddenly, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. The captain. He was a tall, seasoned man¡ªthe kind who had seen every horror this world had to offer and lived to tell the tale. His face was marked with deep scars, both old and new, and his eyes¡­ they belonged to someone who had witnessed far too many deaths. He extended his hand. Resting in his rough palm was an artifact¡ªa necklace. A small thing, yet its pendant flickered with an eerie white light, as if it held an entire night sky within. ¡°That is¡­ [Luminara Arcanium].¡± Raizen¡¯s heart clenched. This was what he had given Arcadith before he left. A rare relic, cursed with the fate of those who sought hope in the midst of despair. A chain forged from the undying flames of the Dwarven forges and the everlasting light of the moon¡ªa gift Raizen had entrusted to Arcadith with a simple instruction: "When everything falls apart, let it guide you." And now, it lay here, in his hand. Raizen didn¡¯t ask. But the captain spoke anyway, his voice rough, thickened by years at sea. ¡°The boy died a hero.¡± Raizen did not respond. He only clenched the artifact in his fist, listening as the captain continued, his words slow, each one carrying a weight of grief. ¡°We went too deep.¡± ¡°At first, everything seemed fine. The dungeon was just an old ruin¡ªa city lost beneath the sea for centuries. But then we realized¡ªit wasn¡¯t abandoned. It was a grave.¡± ¡°Something lived down there. Or maybe¡­ it had never died.¡± A cold wind swept past, carrying the scent of salt and the sharp tang of the ocean, stinging the skin of those standing there. Meredith inhaled sharply, clutching the fabric of her coat. Her nails dug into her flesh. ¡°All the exits shut. Seawater started seeping in through the cracks in the stone. No light. Only darkness and the howling of the wind, like whispers of the dead.¡± ¡°We panicked. Some tried to find a way out, some dropped to their knees and prayed, and others¡­ others just stood there, waiting for fate to claim them.¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°But not Arcadith.¡± ¡°He stepped forward.¡± Raizen gritted his teeth. He didn¡¯t want to hear this. Not now. He shoved the necklace into his pocket and glared at the captain. ¡°Enough.¡± His voice was dry, hollow. ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± He didn¡¯t look at Meredith, but he knew. He knew she was trembling. Every word spoken was a blade, cutting deeper into wounds that were still bleeding. But then, a small voice stopped him. ¡°Keep going.¡± Meredith stood straight, though her frail shoulders still quivered. She lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed but unwavering. ¡°I want to hear it,¡± she whispered. ¡°Tell me¡­ how did he die?¡± Raizen stared at her. He had thought she would break. But no¡ªMeredith was holding on, fighting against her own pain, even as every breath still caught in her throat. The captain was silent for a long moment. Then, with a slow nod, he continued. ¡°¡®No one dies here,¡¯ he said. And then¡­ he led us.¡± Meredith bit her lip. Blood welled, but she didn¡¯t wipe it away. Raizen stood still. His eyes darkened, his fists clenched. ¡°No one knew how, but he found a way out. We ran. The darkness chased after us. Growls echoed from beneath the earth, blackened hands reached from the walls. The dungeon itself was alive, swallowing anyone who fell behind.¡± ¡°We ran, ran until there was only one stone gate left.¡± ¡°And then¡­ it started to close.¡± Meredith shuddered. ¡°We weren¡¯t fast enough.¡± ¡°That was when Arcadith threw me out. And then, he stayed behind.¡± ¡°I still remember his face.¡± The captain¡¯s voice wavered. ¡°There was no fear. Just a smile¡ªfaint, fading into the dark.¡± ¡°He chose to hold the path. To fight whatever was in there, so we could escape.¡± ¡°The door closed.¡± ¡°And that was the last time I saw Arcadith.¡± Silence fell over them. Meredith no longer trembled. She didn¡¯t cry. But something in her eyes had changed. Raizen glanced at her before turning away, shoving his hands into his coat pocket. His fingers brushed against [Luminara Arcanium]. His throat felt dry. He hated this. Hated how Arcadith always threw himself into sacrifice. Hated how Meredith was trying to hold back her grief. And he hated himself¡ªbecause there was nothing he could do but stand here, listening to the story of a man who was gone. Without a word, he pulled his hand from his pocket, ripped off his coat, and tossed it over Meredith¡¯s head. She flinched, fumbling to pull it down. He didn¡¯t look at her. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Meredith clutched the fabric tightly in her hands. She looked at him, lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. But Raizen knew. He knew she wouldn¡¯t let this go. And truth be told¡ªneither would he. Chapter 6: Sorrow Dusk The sky was painted in a burnt orange hue. The sun was slowly sinking beneath the horizon, leaving behind deep crimson streaks that stretched across the sea like smears of blood. Gentle waves lapped against the shore, reflecting the resplendent sunset¡ª a breathtaking beauty, yet cruelly cold in its radiance. The harbor remained bustling as usual, but the noise seemed subdued. Today was not considered an auspicious day for docking, according to seafarers'' beliefs. Even so, ships large and small lined up, and sailors unloaded cargo in silence. The hoarse cries of crows echoed in the sky, blending with the heavy tones of sailor songs drifting from taverns along the streets. Raizen and Meredith walked along the stone-paved path leading away from the docks. They said nothing. Only the sound of their heavy footsteps echoed against the cold, unfeeling stones. Raizen walked ahead, his posture rigid and tense, irritation subtly laced in his movements. His shirt billowed in the sea breeze, clinging to his stiff shoulders as if restraining something he refused to let loose. Meredith followed behind, her steps slow and unsteady, as if her legs were losing their strength. The coat Raizen had tossed to her remained clutched tightly in her hands, though the frigid sea wind coiled around her body. Yet, she made no move to put it on. Not because she wasn¡¯t cold¡ª but because she felt nothing at all. Everything seemed like a shattered dream. The letter was still there, tucked inside her pocket, but its words had already carved themselves into every crevice of her mind. Meredith dared not take it out again, dared not unfold it for another read. Because she was afraid¡ª afraid that if she read it once more, she would no longer be able to hold back her tears. In the distance, glass lanterns along the streets flickered to life, lit by the night patrol guards. Their flames were feeble, wavering against the darkness slowly descending over the town. Raizen suddenly halted. He turned to look at Meredith. "Where exactly do you plan on going?" Meredith stopped in her tracks. She didn¡¯t know. She had no answer. She just wanted to walk¡ª to keep walking until her legs gave out and her mind was too exhausted to think about anything at all. Raizen studied her for a moment, then frowned. "Inn," he stated bluntly. "Go back." Meredith didn¡¯t move. Raizen sighed. He ran a hand through his long, disheveled black hair, muttering something under his breath in frustration. Eventually, he simply turned and walked on without waiting. Meredith quietly followed. The streets grew emptier as they left the harbor behind. Winding roads stretched between old brick buildings, where golden light spilled from windows, casting elongated streaks upon the lifeless stones. The night air carried the scent of salt, damp wood, and the rich aroma of food wafting from small eateries along the way. Raizen slowed his pace. He didn¡¯t turn around, but he knew Meredith was still trailing behind. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! She wasn¡¯t crying. She wasn¡¯t screaming. Just an eerie, suffocating silence enveloped her frail figure. He didn¡¯t like this. Raizen hated seeing people cry, but he hated it even more when they showed nothing at all. "Are you going to stay like this forever?" His voice cut through the quiet, gruff and unceremonious as always. Meredith lifted her gaze, her empty eyes meeting his. Raizen¡¯s frown deepened. "Hmph. So silence is your answer?" Meredith blinked. She didn¡¯t know what to say. Raizen scoffed. He reached out, grabbed the collar of her shirt, and yanked her toward him. She flinched but did not resist. He stared at her, his deep red eyes reflecting the flickering lantern flames. He was waiting¡ª for something, anything. Anger. Despair. A reaction. But Meredith just stood there, looking at him, fragile like a candle about to be snuffed out. Raizen cursed in Dark Elvish. He let go of her. "Forget it." Meredith blinked. Raizen turned away, resuming his pace. She didn¡¯t know what else to do. In the end, she simply followed. By now, the streets were nearly deserted. Their footsteps echoed against the stone pavement, merging with the icy winds that whistled through narrow alleys. The harbor had grown eerily quiet. Drunken men lay slumped outside taverns, while dim oil lamps flickered in distant windows¡ª faint, wavering flames in the dead of night. Meredith and Raizen continued walking. Not in haste, not idly¡ª just letting their legs carry them forward through the winding streets. No words were exchanged. None were needed. Meredith¡¯s inn was tucked away in a narrow alley. From the outside, it was unremarkable¡ª a three-story wooden house, its roof tiles stained with salt, its wooden walls weathered and peeling. The sign above the entrance was so worn that the letters were barely legible, swaying slightly in the night breeze. But inside, it was different. Small, yet warm. A modest fireplace still glowed faintly in the corner of the common room, casting a gentle orange light. Wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with old books, their spines worn from repeated readings. A few small potted plants sat by the window, their leaves trembling each time the wind seeped through the cracks. It wasn¡¯t luxurious, but there was something unmistakably¡­ human about this place. Unlike the other run-down inns near the docks, filled with nothing but transient travelers looking for a temporary bed, this place bore the marks of someone who had lived here. Raizen stopped at the entrance, arms crossed, his gaze settling on the highest attic window. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was low, cold as the draft sneaking through the wooden planks. "Lock my room," he muttered, not bothering to look back. "And stop taking in guests." Meredith had just stepped inside, still standing near the fireplace, her expression somewhat dazed. She blinked, looking at him. "Where are you going?" Raizen didn¡¯t answer. He simply raised a hand toward her¡ª a lazy, impatient gesture. "Coat." Meredith remained still, her hands tightening around the fabric. She didn¡¯t give it to him right away but just stared at him. "Where are you going?" she repeated, softer this time. As if hoping for reassurance. Raizen cast her a brief glance¡ª sharp, unreadable, offering no response. He remained motionless, his outstretched hand unwavering. He wasn¡¯t going to answer. Meredith pressed her lips together, uncertainty flickering between frustration and hesitation in her eyes. Finally, she loosened her grip on the coat, her shoulders sinking slightly as she handed it to him. Raizen snatched it without a word. He threw it over his shoulder carelessly, then turned and stepped out the door. "Raizen." He didn¡¯t stop. Meredith clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she took a hesitant step forward. "Where are you going?" Still, no answer. Only his shadow slowly disappeared into the night, as if he had never been there to begin with. Chapter 7: Dark Elfs memories - Part 1 At night, Felariel¡¯s harbor district became a different world. The noise faded¡ªthe crashing waves, the sailors¡¯ shouts, the haggling of merchants¡ªall replaced by darkness and silence. Raizen moved quietly through the empty streets, where lonely oil lamps flickered against the salty breeze. Narrow alleys wove into a labyrinth, carrying the stench of seawater and rotting refuse from unseen corners. In the distance, the hoarse laughter of drunken men echoed from some inn. A woman with a thin shawl drifted past him, briefly eyeing the Dark Elf before vanishing into the shadows. No one paid attention to Raizen. And he paid no attention to anyone. He simply walked, letting the cold night air cut against his skin, letting the echoes of the afternoon creep into his thoughts. The harbor. Meredith. The letter. And the old captain, his voice as rough as the sea itself. "The boy died like a hero." Raizen closed his eyes, but his steps did not falter. ¡°Arcadith. That foolish kid.¡± The brat whose eyes would light up whenever he spoke of adventure, of glory, of becoming a great adventurer. A part of Raizen had known all along. There was no easy path in this line of work. Someone like Arcadith¡ªproud, idealistic, utterly convinced in his beliefs¡ªwas bound to meet this fate sooner or later. Raizen was not surprised. Not sad. Not angry. He just felt¡­ empty. As if something had been carved out of his chest, leaving only a hollow space behind. His fingers tightened around the chain inside his coat pocket. "When everything crumbles, let this guide you." He let out a quiet chuckle, unsure if he was mocking Arcadith or himself. ¡°The kid thought he needed this?¡± Raizen¡¯s grip on the necklace tightened. ¡°What he needed wasn¡¯t some damned trinket.¡± ¡°What he needed¡ª¡± ¡­ Raizen stopped. Ahead of him, a flight of stone steps descended into a narrow street where lanterns still glowed, casting long shadows against damp brick walls. He sighed and kept walking. Dead was dead. Nothing could change that. So why did his chest still feel so heavy? Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Raizen trudged down the steps. He was not one to dwell on the past¡ªit meant nothing to him. What was lost was lost. But tonight, as the empty streets swallowed his footsteps, the past wrapped around him like a serpent, squeezing tighter with each step. With every footfall against the cold stone, the image of Arcadith replayed in his mind. The day Arcadith was born. Raizen had witnessed it firsthand. He remembered it well. That night, a storm raged. Lightning split the sky, wind howled through the seaside town, and rain lashed against windows with a fury that seemed intent on tearing the world apart. Raizen had just retired from adventuring, intending to live out the rest of his years in peace, away from the blood and chaos of his former life. And then, wandering through the rain, he saw her. A woman with auburn hair, her soaked clothes clinging to her body, her swollen belly making every step a struggle. "She¡¯ll give birth soon enough," he had thought as he passed her, "and bring another poor bastard into this world." But then¡ª A sharp gasp. A ragged, pain-laced breath. Raizen paused, frowned, and turned back¡ªjust in time to see the woman collapse onto the muddy street, clutching her stomach as violent tremors wracked her body. ¡°Shit.¡± For a few moments, he simply stood there, debating whether to walk away. But the sound of her labored breathing, the sheen of sweat on her pale face¡ªhe couldn''t ignore it. Cursing his luck, he knelt down and picked her up. They took shelter beneath the eaves of a chapel, the rain drumming against the wooden roof. Raizen pounded on the door, shouting for help, but no one came. The woman didn¡¯t have time to wait. Her body convulsed, her fingers digging into the damp ground as the pain intensified. Raizen crouched beside her, his hands slick with rain and sweat. He knew nothing about childbirth. He knew wounds, blood, and death. But this¡­ this was not death. This was life. ¡°Breathe,¡± he ordered, his voice low and firm. ¡°If you want this child to live, then breathe.¡± The woman gritted her teeth, a groan slipping past her lips. She seized his hand¡ªher grip so strong he nearly cursed. And then, through the chaos, a cry pierced the storm. A tiny, red, writhing thing slipped into Raizen¡¯s hands. He was not used to holding something so fragile. But the moment the baby let out its first cry, that slick, shivering weight in his hands suddenly felt different. Strong. Full of life. The child¡¯s eyes fluttered open¡ªbright, unafraid, as if born to defy the world. Then, the chapel doors creaked open. An old priest rushed out, draping a blanket over the woman¡¯s trembling shoulders. She took the baby, exhaustion and joy mingling in her weary smile. She turned to Raizen and placed the child in his arms. "He''ll be a warrior," she murmured, "don¡¯t you see? Listen to him cry¡ªhe¡¯s already challenging the world." A warrior? Raizen had laughed back then. He did not believe in warriors. Or heroes. But the way the infant¡¯s tiny fingers curled around his own¡ªweak, yet full of life¡ªheld him still for a long moment, as the storm continued to rage outside. He had no idea, on that night, that he would become the one to raise that child. To train him. To watch him grow. And, in the end, to see him fall.