The next chamber was different. More inviting.
It was larger than any of the previous rooms. Tall pillars stretched upward, vanishing into the sky. On the ceiling, a breathtaking mural unfolded.
It depicted an island—an island floating in a clear blue sky. Above it stood a castle. Magical creatures roamed the land. A luminous waterfall spilled gracefully over the island's edge, flowing into nothingness.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" A calm voice echoed through the hall.
Noah was always on guard, yet he didn't retreat this time. Maybe it was something in the voice—or maybe speaking first would only hand over the advantage.
Scanning the chamber, he saw him.
It was strange. One moment, there was nothing. The next, a man stood there, gazing at the mural as if admiring it with him.
Then, the man lowered his eyes and locked them on Noah.
He wore a black suit and a tall top hat, as though he had stepped out of the Victorian era.
His face bore no expressions. Not hollow, not lively—just… ordinary.
Like the most common of men, on the most common of days. Not happy, not sad. Simply existing.
Noah couldn't sense the faintest ripple of magic from him. Nothing at all. If he weren't staring directly at him, he'd swear the man wasn't even there. That in itself was terrifying—like this man could have already walked up to him and stabbed him in the heart without him knowing.
Cautious, Noah activated his right eye. And immediately took two steps back.
For the man's body was covered head to toe in glowing golden runes. They radiated raw magical power, as though tethered to the very essence of the world itself.
"No…" Noah muttered. Looking closer, he realized the runes weren't only connected to the man—they were linked to the chamber itself. And the chamber… was alive with magic.
The thought alone was terrifying. But the surprises didn't end there.
What truly unsettled him was this: the man had no organs. No blood.
He was literally a hollow shell.
A puppet.
"This isn't right…"
But there were no strings, no signs of control. He moved with his own will.
"A golem," Noah whispered, accepting the conclusion.
As if hearing the word, the man tilted his head, eyes sweeping Noah up and down.
"Impressive. Your analysis was accurate—and in only a few seconds," the golem said, his voice steady but resonant.
"Who are you?" Noah demanded.
The man lifted his top hat politely. "You may call me… the Gatekeeper."
"Gatekeeper? What kind of name is that?" Noah frowned. "Did your creator have no imagination? Or no feelings?"
The Gatekeeper chuckled softly. "My creator? On the contrary, he was a man brimming with emotions. And with a remarkable sense for names." His tone lingered, as though lost in some distant memory.
Noah stared in disbelief. This thing was interacting like a normal human.
"Your creator—what's his name?" Noah couldn't resist asking. Someone capable of creating something like this… he had to know.
"Name?" The Gatekeeper tilted his head with amusement. "Even I don't know. He had many names. But his true one? I could never say."
Noah blinked.
"I bet none of them are as cool as Lord of Flames," he muttered.
The Gatekeeper smiled faintly but said nothing.
The silence grew awkward, so Noah broke it again.
"So… what exactly is this place?" He gestured to the portal behind him. "I almost died in there, you know. Worst welcome I've ever had."
The Gatekeeper showed no reaction. Instead, he stepped forward.
"Which card did you draw?" he asked.
Noah blinked, then remembered. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled it out.
"Ah, that annoying little thing," the Gatekeeper said with a wave. "Not bad. You must specialize in area-of-effect magic… Fire, I suppose?"
Noah raised a brow. "Could it have been different? The monster I faced?"
The Gatekeeper shook his head. "Calling it a monster is cruel. It wasn't that ugly."
Then he turned and walked to the center of the chamber—where, suddenly, a table had appeared. Spread across it were dozens upon dozens of cards, laid face down.
Noah approached. He counted roughly a hundred cards, arranged in neat rows of ten.
One slot was missing—in the fourth row.
"Fourth row…" the Gatekeeper murmured. "Not bad."
"…Thanks? I guess."
The Gatekeeper gestured to the table. "Return the card. It's useless to you anyway."
Noah studied the card one last time, committing its appearance to memory, and placed it down.
"How strong are the ones in the tenth row?" he asked. From what he gathered, each row meant higher difficulty.
The Gatekeeper didn't answer. Instead, he motioned to the topmost row.
"Pick one."
Noah hesitated, then reached out and chose a card.
The image showed a strange creature—something between a feline and a wolf. Its body was pitch black, its eyes glowing yellow. Dozens of tails whipped behind it. But the strangest part was its teeth. There were far too many.
Something about the illustration was deeply unsettling. Just looking at it made Noah uneasy.
Fear. He almost never felt fear.
"What the hell is this?"
He glanced at the bottom.
—World Devourer—
Created by: &*(&&%$&$&
Again, the creator's name was unreadable.
"This thing… can it really devour a world?" Noah asked skeptically.
"The real creature? Absolutely," the Gatekeeper replied. "But this imitation? At most… it could consume a continent."
Noah swallowed hard and set the card back down.
"Your creator must've been a genius," he muttered, then asked the real question.
"What is this place? And why was there a hidden mark inside Hogwarts?"
The Gatekeeper waved a hand. The table of cards vanished.
He pointed—and where there was once nothing, now stood a stone door.
Above it, words were carved:
I met sages and fools.
I slew monsters and angels.
I kissed the most beautiful goddesses.
I touched the unknown.
And at last, I found the truth.
I was weak.
Noah frowned. "What…?"
"It's a legacy," the Gatekeeper explained. "My creator left it behind, hoping someone might inherit it."
"A legacy?" Noah's eyes narrowed at the words. "So… he's dead?"
The Gatekeeper fell silent, then said, "I don't know."
Noah exhaled. The stone door almost seemed to call to him.
It was tempting.
Like a beautiful woman lying in his bed, whispering his name.
"'Kissed goddesses'… What a show-off."
Turning back to the Gatekeeper, Noah asked, "So what do I have to do?"
"It's quite simple," the Gatekeeper began. "There are countless branches of magic—things beyond anything you've ever dreamed. Behind every door lies a concept, an idea. What kind of magic? That you can only discover by entering. Each challenger has their own path. Their own trial. Their own reward."
"So all I need to do is enter the room, face whatever trial awaits, and finish it?"
"Correct. Once you complete a trial, you may enter another door. But I wouldn't rush, if I were you. A trial can take days… months… even years. Depending on the magic, and on your own genius."
"I can leave whenever I want?" Noah asked, uneasy at the thought of being trapped for years.
"Unless the trial demands otherwise, yes. You may enter and exit as you wish."
That was reassuring.
"How long have I been here?" Noah asked curiously.
"A little over five hours."
Noah blinked.
He remembered spending around three hours fighting that duplicating creature. But what about the other two?
"Then how long was I in the first room?" he asked.
"Two hours," the Gatekeeper replied, chuckling.
Noah frowned. He hadn't realized he'd been wandering so long… Creepy.
"I have one last question," Noah said. "Could anyone have found that tapestry in Hogwarts?"
"Only someone destined could discover anything related to this place. Believe me—you must have something special that led you here."
The Gatekeeper snapped his fingers. A circular portal shimmered into existence.
"What the hell…" Noah muttered, circling it warily. He used his right eye to analyze every detail. But unlike runes or ordinary magic, this was different—something beyond his understanding.
"You can learn this kind of magic by walking the path of the legacy," the Gatekeeper said with a faint smile.
Noah swallowed.
"Damn it… Now I'm going to be restless all the time," he grumbled, though the excitement in his chest betrayed him. For a magic fanatic, this was dangerously tempting.
He doubted even Dumbledore could do something like this. No—he was sure the old man couldn't.
"So your name's Gatekeeper because you make gates?" Noah smirked.
"Your sense of humor is… curious," the Gatekeeper replied flatly.
Noah just grinned.
"How far can it take me?" he asked, pointing at the portal.
The Gatekeeper flicked a card toward him. "My portals? Only within the same country. My master's portals…" He trailed off with a smile.
"All over the world, huh?" Noah thought, but didn't push further. He was already surprised by how cooperative the Gatekeeper had been, answering far more than he expected from an ancient guardian.
He looked down at the card he'd caught.
Its back was pitch black, smooth as glass, rimmed with a golden border that shimmered faintly—just like the others.
The front depicted an old wooden door, suspended in nothingness. Sometimes closed. Sometimes ajar. Sometimes wide open, revealing only an abyss of darkness beyond. Was it just a magical illustration… or did the door actually exist somewhere?
Its name was written below:
The Rabbit Hole.
The creator's name was the same as before—impossible to read.
"Place this card on any door, and channel your magic into it. The door will become a gateway to the Legacy, no matter how far away you are."
Noah froze—then burst into laughter.
"See you soon, I hope," he said, and dove into the portal, leaving the Legacy behind.
The Gatekeeper remained, watching the portal linger. Then footsteps echoed behind him.
"You're late to the welcome," he said without turning.
A woman had arrived. Tall. Beautiful.
Golden hair. Blue eyes. Skin pale as porcelain.
"Do you think it's him? The one we've been waiting for all this time?" she asked.
"I don't know," the Gatekeeper admitted. "But he feels… familiar. You sensed it too, didn't you?"
"That's why you were so receptive?" she teased with a laugh. She turned away. "Next time he comes, let me give the welcome."
The Gatekeeper sighed as she vanished. "She still resents the master?"
Turning back to the fading portal, he whispered, remembering Noah's question.
"My gates… only within a continent. But the master's gates…" His voice dropped.
"…anywhere, in space or time."