"Its been days at least… I think that remedy mook barely moves… or got bored rather quickly… but I managed to find this room somehow." He walked past the shelves lined with books. In the center was a dome‑like structure with a map in the middle.
The shelves formed a circle around it, and he got closer, stepping down the stones. "Whoever built this place really must have believed in the Transcender… who's me. Confusing."
He arrived at the map. It was a 3‑dimensional layout with the citadel in the center. "Humm, this is cool, not going to lie. A 3D map… let me try to make sense of it." He took his time examining it.
"So this is the map of the cryptic zone. This is where I am. Eventually the graveyard ends and there's actually greenery… and a desert," he said, not sure himself.
"There's citadels inside the crypt… There's possibly people outside the crypt because— I might be mistaken— that's a house." He pointed at something half‑cut on the map.
"I shouldn't probably be thinking this… but I want to go to this place," he said, his hand tapping on his chin.
"Maybe there's people there. Where I'm not alone in this place, yeah. Plus, if I'm a god, I need to see my people." He got up and exited the hidden library.
"Maybe I should bring a weapon. I wouldn't want to be attacked by another falcon or something worse," he said while walking to the armory.
The room was filled with an assorted amount of weapons. They were all hanging, some in glass cases. The glinting metal filled the room.
He approached one of the unique weapons. He reached out for a dual katana—but it shocked his hand.
Then the system appeared, displaying insufficient level… Level 75 required.
"So I can't use it because I'm not strong enough?" A sarcastic laugh escaped his mouth. "Unfair… if I am a god, shouldn't I be overpowered? Sighs… guess I'll choose another weapon then." He backed off and headed to the other lane.
Picking up a katana and a shortbow: "I can use these ones, but they are nothing special. They look normal." He left the armory.
"Let's go. We are heading north. I'm going to get lost, that's certain… that's the fun part."
He was ready to depart into the world of death, to uncover its secrets and claim the title of the strongest. But first, he had to defeat his greatest foe: the door of the Citadel.
He arched his back to push it open. "I hate this door." He exited and closed it.
The outside was as barren as the first time he had stepped out. The graveyard that never ended, the blood‑red sky, and the smell of metal—it was intoxicating.
As he walked through the graveyard, that murder of crows flew above. The only sound besides his footsteps was from them. The memory of his past lingered deep within him.
"Humm… this is nothing close to what I wanted, but I guess I was never specific. I asked for a second chance at life and I got it… To be honest, I was never scared of hell. At some point I accepted it."
"Don't know when it started… I detached from the world. Believe it or not, when my father died in a car incident, I was left alone for six years. Had to fend for myself. People got close, I accepted them, but ended up getting used because I was naive," he thought to himself as he navigated the graves.
"From that day on, I isolated myself from people—even the genuinely good ones. I hate and love myself for that… because even if they were nice, it wouldn't have lasted forever, and I was right." He entered a line of redwood trees with crimson leaves.
The new area was full of different smells, and the sound of animals increased. Birds chirped. It was all beautiful, but there were occasional growls.
"They all changed. Different people… I never failed at life; it failed me. But maybe, just maybe, the people of this world are different… What am I saying? Of course they're different—they consider me a god. Either they're stupid, or I'm the fool. Whichever is true, I just have to prove it wrong," he said as he approached a riverbed with red water flowing in it.
"Is this water? Or am I going to regret trying to figure it out?" He outstretched his hands to scoop the red liquid and smell it.
"Smells like nothing, so it has to be water." He leaned in and tasted it from his hands. It tasted like water—just red.
"It's just water with food coloring." He drank a bit more before going to a nearby bush to pick a few berries he didn't fully trust.
"Humm… is that smoke up ahead? A forest fire or a campfire?" He got back up, collected what he gathered, and jumped over the river using rocks.
"Wait… if it's a campfire, do I want to go there? They could be hostile… or not even what I expect." He weighed his options, but curiosity won.
He approached the fire steadily, using trees and bushes as cover. As he arrived in view of the camp, he saw tents around a cage and a few people talking. It was unclear.
He got closer: there were four people around the fire. One with brown hair said, "I really don't like spending time in the crypt. It's only a matter of time before a monster comes and attacks us." His voice was obviously shaky.
Another, a blond-haired man, responded, "Don't be a scared little b*tch. You know we can't transport the cargo through kingdoms—they're going to search us, talking." He poked him lightly with a stick.
Another blond said, "Speaking of our cargo… I think we should feed her, or she's going to die. And a seasoned body is no use for war blackmail." He picked up half a slice of bread and threw it near a cage.
Hands came out of the cage and picked up the slice. They were small and lightly bruised. "Thank you," the caged person said.
"Don't mention it, little lady. We could honestly let you go, but we need the money, and she'll kill us if we don't present you to her," the blond person said.
Cairo, still in the bushes, felt his brain working overtime. "They don't seem evil… they're doing it because they're on puppet strings. Even I was… should I intervene, or should I mind my business? That is the smartest choice, isn't it?"
He shifted in the bush.
The men around the fire turned instantly.
"Who's there?"