Inside the temple, a few burnt-out torches were arranged along the walls.
Dusty pew chairs lined both sides of the temple, leaving a clear path in the middle, atop which lay a dark tapestry. At the end of the path stood a sandstone altar, and behind it, three statues loomed.
Faust approached them, observing closely. The statues, which were broken in the memories, now stood whole before him.
To the right, a female statue carved from dark sandstone stood with her long hair cascading to the base, completely covering her face. Her body, however, bore scars and injuries.
The most prominent of these was a gaping wound between her bare breasts, a deep slash that revealed her insides—yet they contained nothing but more dark sandstone.
Faust felt a strange sensation as he gazed at it, though he couldn't quite decipher what it meant.
To the left stood a male statue. Its eyes were covered by a layered blindfold, and its sculpted skin radiated health and strength. However, where his genitals should have been, there was nothing besides a smooth surface of dark sandstone.
This statue bore no injuries, but in one hand, it held a broken spear. His expression was one of sorrow.
Finally, in the center stood another female statue, this one riddled with cracks, yet bearing a compassionate smile.
Though all three statues were exquisitely crafted, the central one was clearly a tier above the others.
The detail of her long hair was so precise that, despite being sandstone, it looked almost silky. Her body, too, was flawlessly sculpted, with each muscle in perfect harmony.
"Impressive…"
Faust murmured, captivated by the artistry before him. Having grown up in a countryside village, his experience with art was limited but even he could feel the emotion and intent behind these statues.
He stepped past the altar and reached out, touching the sculptures in awe. They were clearly the work of a master artisan.
At their bases, a small dark metal plaque was fixed to each one, inscribed with strange symbols Faust couldn't understand.
Turning back toward the altar, he noticed a book resting on it. It was thick, easily over two hundred pages.
Faust picked it up and quickly skimmed through it. He had some experience with books, though usually simpler ones.
Many of the pages were filled with illustrations and depictions of various things. Around the middle of the book, he came across drawings of slashers and armorers, accompanied by dense blocks of text.
A few pages later, he found an illustration of a headless, humanoid, three-tailed monster. One of its tails ended in a head, another in a drill-like spike, and the last in a ball covered with tiny holes that emitted light.
"This!"
Faust gasped. It was the same monster he had once fled from, the one that nearly killed Yuser and had left him in a dire state.
This particular entry had far more text than the others.
As he skimmed through the rest of the book, he found creatures he didn't recognize, most of them looked aquatic, or at least resembled fish.
One, in particular, captured his attention: a squid-like creature with over a thousand tentacles, each drawn with multiple glowing blades. Its eyes held the image of a deep, dark abyss.
Even more text surrounded this one, but he couldn't read it. For now, he stored the book at his waist, it was far larger than his journal and wouldn't fit in any of his pouches.
Now, for the key.
He recalled that he had found it inside a brick before. The structure didn't seem to have changed much, aside from no longer being broken… so the brick should still be in the same place.
Faust walked over to the wall the Old Rat Prince had found it previously, running his hands along it until he felt a displaced brick. He then quickly removed it.
Inside was a keyhole, looking newly carved, but no key.
Faust took out his own key and put into it…
It fits perfectly…
Of course, he didn't leave it there. He retrieved the key and stored it again, placing the brick back into the wall before falling into thought.
…The temple isn't broken. The statues aren't ruined. The structure is intact, and the brick is here… yet the key remains with me. Everything else appears just as it must have been before the Old Rat Prince interacted with this place. So, if someone restored it… why would they put the brick back and leave the key out?
Unless… no one restored it. What if the temple restored itself?
That could be it. I think the first, second, and third trials probably reset each time someone new arrives. It wouldn't make sense for people to pass the second trial if the fruit supply were limited. If that were the case, those who came after the first group would find no fruits left.
And considering how developed the adventurer camp outside the trials has become, the dungeon must have been open for a while… so a reset mechanism would make sense.
Assuming this city resets itself to a previous state… what could have caused the temple to be as destroyed as when the old man found it? Someone must've done that on purpose. But for what reason?
More importantly… if I'm right, why does it reset at all? And what triggers it?
Faust was deep in thought as he searched the temple one last time. Finding nothing else of interest, he left.
He planned to return to his temporary base. Retracing his steps, he passed through the same streets. As he reached the city center, he noticed the fight had ended. The pair of adventurers were gone. Blood stained the ground, but only a few corpses remained, mostly those of the brute guards.
Faust looked around for a moment, considering the idea of using one of the bodies with the Devour Rune. Perhaps he could instantly learn their language that way. But in the end, he dismissed the idea. The massive pillar of flames that would result could draw far too much attention.
Still, there was too much here to leave behind without gaining something.
His eyes darted around.
Only a few frail natives were present.
Maybe I can use that.
He thought, quickly approaching a three-headed flail made of dark metal, lying next to one of the brute guard corpses.
But when he tried to lift it, he couldn't.
It was solid metal. Easily over a hundred kilos. He smiled, sweat forming on his brow.
How can they even use something that heavy?!
Instead, he turned and picked up a spear with a slightly rusty tip and a plain sword. Then, without wasting time, he ran off, weaving through alleys before returning to his temporary base. He didn't want to risk being followed.
Even then, once he arrived, he triple-checked the area before entering the house.
Inside, he placed the book from the temple and the spear on the table, then removed his tattered cloak.
With the newly acquired sword in hand, he began carving detonation runes into the sandstone walls of the house. He had decided this would be his permanent base during his time in the Seventh Trial, so it had to be ready for anything.
Besides carving detonation runes, he also began carving a small consume ritual area, in case he needed it in the future, it would have been done.
******
At the center of the city, the black-haired youth walked with his companion behind him, observing the massacre they had caused earlier.
They were being watched by a few adventurers, some hidden in nearby houses, others concealed in shadowy corners… but none of them acted.
Then, as the black-haired boy picked up and began dragging the bodies of two brute guards, the girl behind him intervened.
"You've already done enough, Morrigan. Leave them here. This place will reset when a new trial begins anyway… Why are you doing that?"
He didn't turn to face her. His voice was calm, yet tinged with sadness.
"It's the least I can do for them. Controlled by that maniacal king… Even if they're part of the dungeon now, they were humans once. Burying them is just basic decency. I'm still too weak to truly free them… until I get stronger."
His eyes then shifted to the horizon, filling with determination as he continued dragging the brute bodies, the heavy three-headed flail clinking behind him.
She sighed, but smiled faintly, following behind. With a gentle gesture, she conjured platforms beneath the other bodies, lifting and guiding them along. It was the third time they had made this trip. Eventually, they reached a quieter area of the city, one littered with closed graves and even more open ones.
His companion and sister, Lucy, had been the one to dig them using her mana.
Together, Morrigan and Lucy placed the bodies into the graves, filling and sealing them one by one.
When they were done, Morrigan sat on the ground and closed his eyes, sinking into thought.
They're still not truly free… I'm still too weak to do it. I need to grow stronger. The elders sent me into this dungeon for that very reason, I can't waste this opportunity!
My Seventh Trial is too difficult… Now I understand what they meant about the dungeon's approval. The stronger it approves of you, the harder the Seventh Trial becomes, as if it wants to eliminate those who might actually complete it.
Morrigan's trial was unusually difficulty. He had been given seven goals:
Unravel the mysteries of the Grand Desert City.
Eliminate a thousand.
Fell the Mad King.
Protect the Progenitor Tree.
Destroy the Crimson Throne.
Awaken the Drowned One.
Slay the Drowned One.
From those, he had only concluded one, to eliminate a thousand, as he spent some time killing the imp creatures in the desert.
He had left the dungeon once, using his opportunity to leave, as during his first attempt, he had been wounded in battle against eight gold-ranked adventurers who opposed his clan. Taking the opportunity, he returned to the base dungeon and was later pulled back into the trials.
Though he belonged to the Righteous Alignment, it didn't mean much. The only difference between the Righteous, the Rogue, and the Demonic was that while the last two ignored rules, the Righteous simply found clever ways around them.
Few were truly good in this world. Power and strength demanded cruelty and this was the path most walked.
As he finished pondering, his eyes slowly opened. His sister extended a hand to help him stand, which he took as he rose to his feet.