The next day, the duo continued their journey within the ancient mines that stretched like veins through the belly of the mountains.
After being guided by the demon for a considerable time, Lumian finally saw the end of the long tunnel. With his senses sharpened by the darkness, he could hear the distant sound of running water, accompanied by the faint whisper of a breeze carrying a slight salty scent.
Asael, since they were not under the open skies, had lost his innate ability for celestial strengthening, making him feel notably weaker than before. However, after consuming dozens of powerful monster cores, his own core would soon be fully saturated with energy. His combat prowess and physical attributes were still undeniable; even in his current state, he remained a formidable force.
Soon, they emerged onto the dark shore of an underground river. The water was black as ink, a deep and natural hue, very different from the outer dark sea. Nor was there the smell of salt in the air that Lumian expected. Over the surface of the river danced small amounts of mist, shifting and ghostly, like lost souls.
Lumian scanned the surroundings until his gaze fell on a stone pillar, clearly built by human hands. Tied to it with thick ropes resistant to dampness, a dark wooden boat swayed gently, elegant and well-preserved.
Lumian let out a sigh. He had somehow managed to reach this crucial point.
Originally, it had taken the protagonist's group a full four months from their arrival at the dark city to reach this place. For them, however, it had only taken two weeks. Furthermore, Lumian had ascended to Monster, and soon, upon reaching the dark city, he would become a Demon. Then, he would order his demon to massacre the creatures that inhabited it.
"Asael," Lumian said, breaking the silence. "Do you remember the thing about the tree of souls?"
"Yes," Asael replied, serious. "I have to keep my eyes closed, right?"
"Correct," confirmed Lumian. "When we enter the river, we will only defend against our instinct. We will simply navigate to the other shore. Then, a long trek on foot awaits us."
"Don't worry about the trek," Asael said with a hint of certainty in his voice.
"Why? Do you have a secret?" asked Lumian, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course I do," Asael responded, his expression turning serious, sharpening his features. "Lumian, what I'm about to tell you is a profound secret, so you can't tell anyone. I trust you, so don't betray my confidence."
"Don't worry," Lumian assured firmly. "Your secrets are safe with me."
Asael stared at him for a few seconds, assessing, before sighing lightly.
"Remember that one of my attributes is a high affinity for divinity?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's because I received a divine lineage," Asael revealed, lowering his voice. "More specifically, the lineage of the Goddess of Storms, the Night, Navigation, and all that entails."
Lumian opened his eyes with genuine surprise. But his flaw, as always, quickly eliminated that emotion, leaving him in a state of impassive calm once more.
So that's why he smelled like a storm. He has the lineage of the Goddess of Storms, Lumian thought, connecting the dots mentally.
"I am honored that you would trust me with something like that," he said finally, his voice neutral but sincere. "Rest assured, I will not betray your trust."
Asael nodded, and a small smile appeared on his lips before fading.
"Good, I'll rely on you then," Lumian said, returning to practical matters. "Let's trust that your divine guidance will lead us directly to our objectives."
After boarding the boat, Lumian closed his eyes and securely tied the seaweed blindfolds over them, plunging into complete darkness. Asael did the same and, relying on his immense sense of navigation and intuition sharpened by his divine lineage, began to move the boat across the black waters of the river.
After a strange and disjointed period of time, marked only by the sound of water and the sensation of movement, Asael felt the boat touch solid ground.
"We've arrived," he announced. "We can remove the blindfolds now."
But Lumian did not respond. He remained silent and motionless. A few moments later, Asael felt the boat move again, pulling away from the shore and back into the current.
Lumian had prepared for this. He knew the tree of souls could deceive the senses and create auditory illusions. They had established a specific method, a secret code of touches, to ensure they were truly safe.
After another stretch of sailing in the blackness, the boat finally stopped. Lumian then felt a series of precise touches on his arm and shoulder: the agreed-upon signal. Asael's voice sounded then, full of genuine relief:
"We're here. For real this time."
Even so, Lumian did not remove his blindfold. He knew the journey was only just beginning.
Both of them, after carefully disembarking, continued to advance blindly, relying solely on their instincts to guide them through the thick mist and a cold that seeped into their bones. Even with the Fisherman's Garb, Lumian felt the icy embrace of the underground. They moved in silence, where the only sound was the echo of their own footsteps on the damp rock.
As they advanced, the mist began to thin, becoming less oppressive. Lumian felt under his feet the slabs of an arched bridge, and below he heard the dull roar of a different river, more powerful than the first.
Upon reaching the other side, and no longer feeling the damp touch of the mist on his skin, Lumian finally removed his blindfold. His pupils adjusted to the gloom, revealing a large cavernous space. Around them, the river flowed freely and wide, unobstructed. A little further ahead, the great cave sloped downward in a gentle incline.
Lumian looked at Asael, who also freed himself from his blindfold.
"I told you," Asael said with a proud smile. "I'm good at guiding."
Lumian rolled his eyes, but his expression turned serious when his gaze fell on a human skeleton resting peacefully on a black rock, gazing eternally toward the dark river.
The skeleton emanated an unsettling tranquility. Lumian observed it, trying to feign the pity he should feel. By the First Lord, he couldn't help but at least attempt to simulate it. His flaw dampened his emotions, keeping him always in a state of alien tranquility and serenity. His fear, awe, respect, and all other emotions were blocked. He was certain that if Asael died, he wouldn't even feel sadness or anger. It was his cross to bear, and he would have to live with it.
"That is the First Lord of the city," Lumian explained, his voice clear in the silence. "A sleeper who arrived here fourteen years ago."
Asael nodded solemnly. He had read about the deeds of the First Lord's initial court and felt a deep respect for them.
Lumian approached the skeleton's skull. Resting on the bony forehead was a thin strip of metal, discolored by time but still intact. With careful and respectful movements, Lumian retrieved the memory from the skull. The moment his fingers touched it, a whispering voice, like an ancestral spell, resonated in his mind:
[You have obtained a memory: Fragment of Dawn.]
Lumian immediately invoked the fragment, using it to strengthen the memory of the Fisherman's Garb. He felt the garment gain greater solidity and presence around him, its power reinforcing notably. For a moment, tempted, he considered invoking his Transcendent Sword as well, but decided against it. It wasn't the time.
Then, he looked at Asael and dismissed the Fragment of Dawn and its powerful enchantment, aware that its momentary utility had ended.
"Hey," Lumian said. "There's still something else. We have to secure another memory."
"I knew it," Asael replied, unsurprised. "And which one is this?"
"Well," Lumian said, searching for words, "it's actually complicated to explain. I only know it's guarded by a dangerous beast. That's all I know."
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go," Asael said, ready to continue.
Lumian nodded, mentally reviewing the map of memories he needed. He already had the Fragment of Dawn, and soon he would obtain another. Then he would need, somehow, to acquire the Fragment of Midnight to gather three. Another he would obtain in the deeper catacombs, and the next would be given by the death of the Lord of the Dead, bringing the total to five memories. Then there was the fragment possessed by Maiden Seisán, leaving only one last fragment to find. The path was long, but each step brought them closer.
With a last look at the skeleton of the First Lord, Lumian turned and followed Asael, descending into the downward slope of the cave, heading toward the next trial awaiting them in the depths of the underworld.