When the dungeon doors slowly opened, Arthur once again found himself under the dim lights of the underground market. The crowd around him acted as if nothing extraordinary had happened, as though he had not just fought a life-and-death battle with a demon.
The same old man was still sitting at the table. His eyes were hidden in the shadows. When he glanced at the spear in Arthur's hand and the crystal he had tucked into his pocket, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"You've returned. So even chains couldn't hold you," the old man said.
From beneath Arthur's mask came a cold voice:
"They were only an obstacle. One I removed from my path."
The old man nodded.
"Power is given to those who can control it. You… are one of the rare few in this world. For that, I must give you something."
From beneath the table, he pulled out a round seal made of black metal, bearing the ancient crest of Lock Academy. The runes engraved on it glowed faintly.
Arthur examined it carefully. Its aura was unlike that of an ordinary item; this seal felt as though it could open even the gates of a city.
"What is this?" Arthur asked.
The old man answered in a calm voice:
"One of Lock Academy's highest-level seals. It grants you the right to enter the academy whenever you wish. To teach, to access its resources, or simply to observe—whatever you choose. Everyone will recognize you; no one will question you."
Behind his mask, Arthur's blue eyes gleamed.
"And why are you giving this to me?"
The old man's smile widened, though it still remained hidden in the shadows.
"Because your path will cross with that of the academy. And I want the right person to be there at the right time."
Arthur pondered briefly. It was clear that someone who could hand over such a powerful seal was no ordinary man. Yet his instincts told him this person would never reveal his true identity.
He quietly took the seal and placed it in his inner pocket.
"I'll accept it. But remember… if you ask for repayment, you may be disappointed."
The old man did not laugh; he merely murmured softly:
"Repayment? All I ask… is that you follow your path."
Moments later, he vanished into the crowd, as if he had never existed.
Arthur adjusted his mask and walked on silently.
"I don't know who you are… but this seal will either open a great door for me one day, or bring about a great calamity."
Arthur moved through the narrow streets with heavy steps. Behind his mask, his eyes gleamed even in the glow of the night lights. The murmur of the crowd, the whispers of merchants, the clinking of hidden deals—all of it was no more than faint background noise to him.
The Lock Academy seal in his pocket pulsed faintly, almost as if it were alive. With every step, it weighed heavier on his heart, etching the question into his mind: Why was this given to me?
Arthur's thoughts were clear:
If this seal was not a forgery, the old man could not have been a mere merchant.If it truly opened a path to the academy, then someone wanted Arthur to be there.And if it was part of a test… then he needed to know who had set it.
Arthur stopped and looked up. Moonlight seeped through the clouds above. When it struck the metal of his mask, a cold glimmer lit his face.
"Power… brings responsibility. If this seal has been given to me, then I must use it. But… is it a gift, or simply another kind of chain?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the seal. The ancient runes on the round metal flickered briefly. Arthur felt the aura radiating from it: discipline, authority, and knowledge.
"Lock Academy…" he whispered.
"Ren is there. Perhaps this is the new door fate has opened for me."
But at the same time, Asmodar's echoing voice thundered in his mind:
"When my chains are broken… you will witness the apocalypse!"
Arthur secured his spear across his back and adjusted his mask. As he disappeared into the darkness of the streets, a low murmur escaped his lips:
"If disaster is coming… then I will be the one to stand against it."
Arthur ascended the narrow tunnels with heavy steps, the hum of the black market fading behind him. The damp scent of stone walls gave way to the cool night air. At the top of the stairs, the hidden door opened, and the first thing to meet his eyes were the lights of the city.
Ashton's sky was thick with clouds, lightning flashing occasionally, distant thunder rolling across the horizon. The streets were still alive—night markets, drunken wanderers, merchants whispering in alleyways—but Arthur's presence fell among them like a shadow. The glow of his blue eyes beneath the mask was enough to draw lingering gazes.
For a moment he stopped, the vibration from the seal in his pocket brushing against his heart once again. It carried both a sense of security and an inexplicable unease. That seal was one of the keys to his future journey.
"Lock Academy…" he whispered to himself.
"What is drawing me there? Fate… or the schemes of others?"
For a moment, his hand reached for the spear on his back. He also felt the presence of the Crystal Scroll. One held light, the other darkness. Both had been placed in his hands.
As he walked toward the city, the hidden door behind him closed in silence. The black market was swallowed back into shadows, unlikely to be found again so easily. But Arthur knew that as he left, he carried two things forever etched into his destiny: the academy's seal, and the demon's cursed whisper.
At the end of the dark streets, moonlight struck the metal of his mask. Arthur lifted his face toward the sky.