In the mural, the three beings they had seen earlier were now swimming in a crystal-clear river fed by a cascading waterfall. Sunlight pierced through a canopy of lush trees, creating shimmering patterns on the surface of the water. The scene exuded pure joy.
"They're... swimming?" Narisva said, her starry eyes widened as she leaned in, taking in the details of the mural. "I—what am I even looking at? Are those... swimsuits? Modern swimsuits?"
And indeed, they were.
The two women—Erna and the robed figure—were dressed in surprisingly modern-looking swimwear. Erna's dark, shadow-like hair was loose and wild, flowing behind her as she floated effortlessly in the water. Her bikini was simple, yet it hugged her bronze form with an elegance that seemed almost deliberate. The other woman wore a more elaborate one-piece, but it did nothing to hide her curves. Both women, despite the strange setting, looked breathtakingly radiant.
Vastarael felt his jaw twitch. His eyes darted away for a moment, and he cleared his throat awkwardly.
"They, uh... definitely look different than before."
Narisva, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She let out an exaggerated whistle, her expression split between disbelief and mischief.
"Forget 'different.' They're hot. Like, ridiculously hot. Look at Erna though! Who knew she could pull off a bikini like that? And her friend... damn, those legs! And wait a second... that guy."
Vastarael's gaze unwillingly shifted back to the mural, drawn to the man she was referring to. The once-helmeted figure was now bare-chested, wearing nothing but swim trunks.
His build was imposing yet lean, every muscle perfectly defined. His white, shoulder-length hair was slicked back, droplets of water catching the sunlight. Strangely, his face was... absent. Where his features should have been, there was an odd, blank smoothness, as though his identity was deliberately obscured.
"That's... unsettling," Vastarael muttered, gesturing toward the faceless man. "No face. How is that—"
"Who cares about the face?" Narisva cut in, her grin widening. "Look at those abs. I mean, I've seen some fit guys before but this dude is next level."
Vastarael crossed his arms, "Really? That's your takeaway?"
"Don't act like you're not thinking it too, Your Majesty," she teased, elbowing him lightly. "Look at him. You can't tell me he's not peak physique."
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. I'll admit he's... impressive. But we're not here to admire mystic swimsuit models, Narisva. Focus."
"Oh, I am focused alright," she said, smirking. "Focused on the fact that this mural is the weirdest thing I've ever seen. I mean, they're just... having fun. Swimming, splashing, teasing each other. Is that... normal for Gods and Phantasms? I thought they'd be busy, you know, creating worlds or ruling dimensions, not playing water games."
Vastarael stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze lingering on the mural. The three figures moved fluidly, their joy practically radiating from the scene. The women were laughing as they ganged up on the faceless man, splashing him relentlessly and dragging him deeper into the water. Even he, with his imposing figure, seemed unable to resist their teasing as they playfully tugged at him, forcing him to dive beneath the surface with them.
"They're just... happy," Vastarael said quietly, almost to himself. "Completely at peace."
"You think this was, like... before everything went to hell? Maybe they were just regular people—or whatever they were—before all the big, world-changing drama?"
"Maybe," Vastarael replied, his tone distant. He glanced at Erna in the mural, her smile brighter than he'd ever imagined it could be. "Or maybe this is just how they found balance. Even beings of their rank need moments like this. Learned that from my mother."
"Balance, huh? If I looked like that in a swimsuit, I'd be balanced too," She smirked again, nudging him. "Bet you wouldn't mind jumping into that river with them, huh?"
Vastarael shot her a flat look. "Don't start."
As they stared at the mural, Vastarael couldn't shake the feeling that this scene wasn't just a random moment. It felt important, somehow, like a memory etched into the very fabric of the ruins, preserved for anyone who dared to uncover it.
And yet, something about it gnawed at him. The faceless man. The carefree laughter. The idyllic setting. It all felt... off. Like a dream teetering on the edge of a nightmare. As Vastarael and Narisva walked further into the ruins, the air felt heavy again, like the calm before a storm.
The once serene energy they felt from the river mural now shifted into something more foreboding. Ahead of them, the walls shimmered, rebuilding themselves from rubble once more as if alive, pulsing with an ancient power. The fourth mural began forming in front of their eyes, its details unfolding like a story being revealed.
What emerged stopped them dead in their tracks.
The mural depicted a series of awe-inspiring structures being built by the same trio they had seen in the previous scenes. Vastarael recognized the landmarks immediately. He had seen these places with his own eyes before but never like this.
The first structure shown was The Fallen Bridge.
The mural depicted the faceless man and the two women standing on opposing islands, their hands raised toward the heavens as shimmering threads of energy stretched between them.
Slowly but surely, the bridge materialized out of thin air, a colossal structure of Primofrost. It connected two islands, its massive figure soaring over five thousand kilometers into the sky, its shadow stretching endlessly across the ocean below and around one of the islands.
Narisva's mouth hung open as she stared.
"That... that's The Fallen Bridge! They made it? But why?"
Narisva took a step closer, her hands clenching into fists as the scene shifted. The mural transitioned seamlessly to the next creation.
On one of the islands, a towering spire began to rise, its black surface gleaming like polished obsidian. The figures worked together again, their movements synchronized as if performing a dance of creation.
The woman with the staff traced intricate patterns into the air, while the faceless man molded the earth beneath them, and Erna poured streams of liquid shadow into the structure. The spire grew taller and taller, piercing the clouds above. Vastarael immediately recognized it.
"The Obsidian Runic Spire," he whispered, his breath catching. "That's... that's it. That's who built it. Erna said that she built the Spire but seems that she didn't do it alone."
The mural shifted again and this time, Vastarael and Narisva felt a chill creep down their spines. The waters of the ocean shimmered on the mural, rippling unnaturally.
The three figures were now standing above the waves, their forms glowing faintly as they channeled power downward. Slowly, an island began to rise from the depths. Coral reefs and rock formations emerged first, followed by massive cliffs and jagged peaks. The island was breathtakingly beautiful, its surface covered in lush greenery and cascading waterfalls. But it was also ominous.
"The Submerged Island," Narisva whispered, her voice barely audible. "We're standing in it right now."
"Exactly," Vastarael said, his voice low. "They didn't just create these landmarks. They created the very foundation of the Erna Isles."
"And for what? Why would they go to such lengths? These aren't just random creations, Vastarael. There's... there's a reason behind this. There has to be."
Before Vastarael could answer, the mural transitioned once more and what they saw next filled them with a deep, unsettling dread.
The trio was shown standing on the newly created Submerged Island, their hands raised again. This time, their focus wasn't on the landscape. Towering blocks of marble began rising from the earth, reshaping themselves into humanoid forms.
One by one, the figures began to take shape: towering centaurs, their lower bodies resembling warhorses and their upper halves carved with sharp, humanoid precision. Each centaur stood at least ten meters tall, their lifeless, stone faces staring forward, their hooves thundering as they came to life.
The mural depicted the trio working tirelessly as they brought the centaurs into existence. They weren't just creating soldiers or guardians. They were creating something far more primal. The centaurs were depicted running in herds, their movements impossibly swift and powerful. One scene showed a centaur crushing a tree under its hooves, its marble body glinting in the sunlight.
Narisva's stomach churned as she watched the mural.
"No... no way," she said, taking a step back. "They made them? The Marble Centaurs? Those things that eat deer alive like it's nothing? Why? Why the hell would they create something like that? They don't need to eat! They don't need to hunt! So why do they act like they're alive?"
"Because they are," Vastarael said quietly, his tone laced with unease. "Not in the way we understand life, but in their own way. The trio... they didn't just create structures and landmarks. They created living, breathing nightmares."
The mural's final scene showed the centaurs in action. Herds of them charged across the islands, their hooves pounding the earth as they trampled everything in their path. One centaur was depicted holding a deer in its massive hands, tearing it apart with terrifying ease. Another was shown smashing through a wall of stone, its body impervious to damage.
Narisva turned away, unable to watch any longer.
"This is insane. These things... they're monsters. And they're everywhere on this island. What if they're... watching us right now?"
Vastarael's gaze remained locked on the mural, his mind heavy with thoughts.
"We need to keep moving," he said finally. "There's more to these ruins and I'm not leaving until we find out what the hell is going on here."
"Yeah, well, next time you want to stare at a moving nightmare, let me know so I can look the other way."
Narisva muttered but she followed him anyway, her steps quick and cautious as they pressed deeper into the ruins.
The walls around them pulsed faintly, as if the ruins themselves were alive, and Vastarael couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking straight into the jaws of something far bigger than they could imagine.
And the next mural was now... stranger than before.
"It's getting creepier now. Now this..."