Chapter 118 — Packing Up the Undying Ones
After noticing the strange changes around him, Charles did not immediately wake Daenerys. Instead, he stepped calmly through the stone chamber filled with blue mist, carefully observing his surroundings.
It soon became clear that—if the mist were ignored—this room was nearly identical to the previous chambers: empty, austere, with three stone doors embedded in the far wall.
The only differences were the mist itself, and the source producing it—
The black symbols covering the surrounding walls.
"An ancient version of a magic array?" Charles murmured.
The dense haze severely obstructed his vision. Only after approaching the walls and examining them up close was he able to discern the true nature of the murals.
They were eyes.
Horizontal eyes. Vertical eyes. Cracked eyes. Intact ones. Twisted, overlapping, grotesque designs layered together.
The surrounding mist seeped out from these eyes as if from drainage channels, flowing slowly and endlessly.
Yet when touched, there were no holes or openings at all—only shallow grooves and intersecting lines carved into the stone.
[Warlock Fate Eyes — a fixed spell array made from special materials. It is relatively crude.]
[It can generate illusions.]
The Eye of Reality confirmed Charles's judgment. These were not physical conduits, but a rudimentary form of magical array.
Charles stepped in front of the slowly wandering girl and lightly tapped her forehead with the staff in his hand.
A flash of white light appeared and vanished in an instant.
Daenerys, who had been immersed in illusion, snapped awake immediately.
Her dragon was freed as well. Startled by the sudden clarity, the hatchling let out a sharp hiss.
Charles watched this reaction thoughtfully.
Daenerys stared at the deep blue mist around them, instinctively parting her lips to speak—but the moment she noticed the golden figure beside her, her nerves settled at once.
"What was that? Just now I clearly—"
"These mists induce hallucinations," Charles explained calmly. "And the liquid you drank earlier amplifies their effect."
Daenerys nodded in understanding, relief washing over her expression.
She was fortunate—very fortunate.
Had the Seven not answered her prayer, she might have lost herself completely within this place.
And the Undying Ones…
They had clearly chosen the wrong prey.
Had it not been for divine protection, she might already have fallen into a trap…
After steadying her emotions, the girl hesitated before asking,
"Do… do we continue forward?"
From a rational standpoint, having sensed something wrong, she should not have proceeded any further.
Yet with a god standing beside her, fear seemed unnecessary.
"As you wish," Charles replied gently.
Reassured, the girl took a deep breath and pushed open the stone door.
The world beyond changed once more.
The scene beyond was deeply unsettling.
It was still a stone chamber, but at its center lay a brown-haired beauty, limbs spread, completely naked upon the floor. Four small humanoid figures—each about the size of a dog—crawled over her body. They had rat-like sharp faces, tiny pink hands, and bodies the same deep blue as the surrounding mist.
They were committing unspeakable acts.
Daenerys' face flushed crimson. The moment she realized the "god" beside her had vanished, panic surged—
only for a sharp pain to strike her forehead.
The illusion shattered.
The surroundings reverted to a mist-filled stone chamber. Yet unlike before, faint golden traces now coiled through the blue haze.
[Threads of Fate — a naturally formed rare treasure. To some extent, it can glimpse the future.]
Fate? Prophecy?
Charles frowned and turned to the girl.
"What did you see?"
Shielded by golden light, he was immune to the illusions and could only learn of them through her.
Daenerys hesitated, visibly embarrassed, but eventually stammered out the truth.
Charles fell into thought.
They pressed on.
More illusions followed—stranger and more vivid than before.
Her childhood.
Her dreams of Westeros.
Her father, driven to death by the Usurper.
Her legendary brother, Rhaegar Targaryen, whose name sparked rebellion.
The warlocks waiting outside the House of the Undying.
And finally, the Undying Ones themselves—clad in splendor, seemingly at the end of the path.
Yet each illusion vanished the moment Charles tapped her forehead again, leaving behind only cold stone rooms.
Ancient.
Ruined.
Empty.
Desolate.
Just like the crumbling exterior of the building itself—silent testimony to the warlocks' decline.
Door after door opened.
Room after room passed.
At last, they entered a chamber unlike all the rest.
There was no torchlight here. Darkness dominated—yet it was not absolute.
A long stone table occupied most of the narrow room. Above it floated a swollen, rotting black heart, beating slowly, radiating deep blue light that barely illuminated the chamber.
More than a dozen blue figures—gaunt as skeletons—sat along the table's sides. Their eyes were clouded, their bodies little more than mold-streaked bones, so frail a gust of wind might scatter them.
As the girl entered, they turned stiffly toward her, cracked smiles spreading across their withered faces—only to twist instantly into rage.
"Vermin! This place is not for you—begone!" shrieked a blue-skinned crone with a corpse-like face and exposed chest.
Yet under Charles's gaze, she shrank back instinctively.
[Undying One of Qarth — her life has been prolonged for over a thousand years through secret arts.]
[She has long since lost her power.]
[She is consumed by greed toward visitors.]
The Eye of Reality revealed their nature clearly.
They were no allies.
Before Daenerys could speak, Charles smiled faintly. A cross-shaped pendant of prismatic light formed in his hand, and sacred tones echoed from his voice.
Even the sound alone made the Undying Ones clutch their ears, cursing hoarsely. When pure light erupted into the darkness, panic and despair overtook their faces.
Yet Charles's target was not any of them—
It was the decaying heart hovering above the table.
[Heart of the Undying — special relic]
[The heart of a Hero of the Age of Heroes, fused with Threads of Fate]
[It sustains the Undying Ones' lives]
Under Daenerys' awed gaze, sacred symbols slowly appeared above the black heart.
The cross began to rotate, blazing with brilliant light, enveloping the heart in a luminous cocoon.
Then—
White radiance exploded outward.
"No—!"
"Spare us!"
"Despicable vermin!"
Shrill screams filled the chamber as the cocoon brightened further, the stench of burning flesh spreading through the air. Daenerys instinctively covered her nose and mouth and edged closer to Charles, the cries shaking her.
"What… what are they?" she whispered.
"Those who coveted you—and your dragon," Charles replied calmly. "They were also one of your trials."
"And the things I saw earlier…?"
"Mere illusions."
Daenerys nodded, relief flooding her expression.
"Thank the gods you protected me. Otherwise… I surely would have met a terrible fate."
Charles only smiled silently.
With a dragon like yours, he thought, misfortune was never likely.
The screams faded rapidly.
Within seconds, the cocoon dissipated. The floating heart collapsed into a scatter of black ash. At the same time, the Undying Ones crumbled where they sat, disintegrating into dust that filled the chamber.
The Eye of Reality flooded Charles's vision with notifications.
[You have killed Uzan Bori — you gained insight into brewing Shade-of-the-Evening.]
[You have killed Hamma Dass — you gained insight into engraving the Eye of Fate.]
[You have killed Vissa Dongya — you gained insight into crafting Phantom Tortoises.]
[… ]
[You purified the Heart of the Undying — you obtained a fragment of a Hero's Soul.]
[You obtained a strand of Fate Thread.]