The Archer's voice faded, her form dissolving like mist into the chamber's stale air. For a long moment, no one spoke. The echoes of her tale still pressed down on them, heavier than the stone walls around them.
Itekan scratched the back of his head, breaking the silence first. "…Well. That was… something." His grin was thin, forced. "Guess bedtime stories in this place hit a little harder than I thought."
Itoyea crossed his arms, gaze fixed on the floor where the spirit had stood. "She spoke of betrayal as if it was yesterday. You could hear it in her voice. That kind of pain doesn't fade, even after death."
Kutote exhaled through his nose, steady but low. "…And yet, she was proud. Proud of what her brother gave, proud of their king. That pride was stronger than the sorrow." His eyes narrowed. "I can't begin to comprehend the amount of confidence she had in them. She truly believed they could have held out until reinforcements arrived—if Absolam hadn't struck. That kind of conviction…"
"Or that kind of madness," Avery muttered, hugging his elbows. "They were facing three hundred thousand with barely sixty. And then clinging to an oath for two centuries after? That's… devotion so deep it's terrifying."
Binturu gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "Terrifying? Please. Legends like that are commonplace where I'm from." His voice sounded flippant, but he wasn't lying—seven thousand years had shown him wars and vows etched in blood. To him, such legends were nothing new.
Rose shook her head. "Maybe. But if they could carry their oaths even beyond death, then we should be careful. We might be walking into something far larger than we imagined."
A quiet settled again—less crushing this time, but heavy still. They weren't undone by what they'd heard, only unsettled, reminded that the world was bigger, darker, heavier than they had thought.
Then Itekan's eyes widened, his voice breaking the silence. "—Wait, hold on. Is that… gold?"
They turned. At the far edge of the chamber, coins and jewels spilled from a collapsed alcove, piled high and crowned by a chest banded in iron and age.
Avery blinked, mouth half open. "…You've got to be kidding me."
"Now this," Binturu declared, already stepping forward, "is the kind of story I like. Tragic ghosts, cursed castles—and a fat treasure pile at the end. Straight out of Nehivallim."
Rose sighed. "You're impossible."
But even she couldn't quite hide the spark of curiosity in her eyes.
As they drew closer, Avery hesitated. "Are we… sure we can even take these?"
"How did they even carry this with them?" Itoyea asked, lifting a gold bracelet, its surface cold and ancient. Kutote, at his words, felt a prickling thought—something about the runes they had passed earlier.
"Wait."
Itekan froze, hand hovering over the chest.
"What's up?" Rose asked.
"It shouldn't be this easy," Itekan muttered.
"Easy?! How was any of this easy?" Binturu barked.
"No, he's right," Itoyea cut in sharply. "Something's off. Itekan—don't you think it's a little too convenient?"
Itekan shrugged, climbing down from the pile, but his eyes were sharp now.
Rose frowned. "Kutote? Do you see anything wrong?"
"That's the problem," Kutote admitted. "I can't see anything. But I've got a very bad feeling."
Itekan had felt it too—a subtle irritation at the edge of his senses. He had ignored it, thinking it nothing more than fatigue, but with Kutote and Itoyea uneasy, he no longer dismissed it.
"Toitoi," he whispered, and shadows surged from his feet, spilling across the chamber like a living tide. His form blurred, merging with the dark.
"I'll check the flow. Kutote—this whole ruin, what does it run on?"
"SE. Spiritual Energy. Why?"
"There's a disturbance. Right there." Itekan pointed at the chest.
The others followed his gaze, confusion on their faces. Then it clicked for Kutote—like a blade sliding into place.
"An enchantment," Kutote breathed, his voice sharp.
There were many forms of energy. The most common was SE, which all spirit bearers could manipulate. But alongside it existed rarer forces—chief among them Natural Energy. Only few could even sense it. Fewer still could use it.
"This formation's built on it," Kutote said, realization dawning. "That's why none of us noticed. My Red Spirit missed it completely." He glanced at Itekan. "But… wait. How did you even pick up on it?"
Itekan's jaw tightened. "Doesn't matter. Let's move on." He wasn't about to admit it had been nothing but a gamble—catching only the faint distortion of SE and trusting Kutote to piece the rest together.
"Natural… Energy?" Avery repeated.
"Yes," Kutote said. "Professor Fernir mentioned it in passing—other forms beyond SE. Most of you clearly didn't listen."
"You're the only one who paid attention in her classes," Avery said dryly.
"No, I remember something like that," Rose added after a pause. "She said SE was the most common, but… I never studied the others."
"Exactly. Natural Energy's obscure, but its potency is undeniable. Any technique fueled by it is stronger than its SE counterpart. This illusion here—" he gestured at the chest "—is so strong even my Red Spirit missed it. If Itekan hadn't…" He stopped, shaking his head. "Still. None of us can wield it. We can't break this."
"You can't."
The voice didn't come from Kutote.
A man hovered above them, white suit spotless, spectacles glinting, as if untouched by centuries. He descended slowly, every motion calm and precise, until his feet touched the stone.
Itekan's eyes narrowed. "Let me guess... Jarius the last of the Archem Knights."
"Yes." The man smiled faintly. "Excellent eyes, Red Spirit. If you had been a moment slower, all of you would already be dead."
The six froze. Their supposed moment of respite had been a blade's edge from disaster.
Then Jarius raised a hand. His voice was quiet, almost cordial:
"Swordsman. Descendant of Shadow. Red Spirit. Your instincts spared you this once. But it shall not always be so."
And with that, he raised both arms skyward.
The chamber groaned.
A boulder, vast as a meteor, tore itself from the ceiling, suspended for a heartbeat—then plummeted toward them with crushing inevitability.
"What?!" Binturu roared.
Avery charged his technique, Rose's hands already weaving a defensive zone.
But Itekan, Itoyea, and Kutote stood frozen. Their bodies moved, but their eyes were empty—their consciousness ensnared, trapped by Jarius' unseen grip.
"Itekan!" Avery screamed.
"They're not answering!" Binturu bellowed.
"What did you do to them!?" Rose cried.
Jarius only smiled, voice smooth as glass. "Survive this… and perhaps you'll find your answer."
The boulder fell.
.
.
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Spiritual Energy (SE)
Spiritual Sea (SS)
Spiritual Signature (SST)