When the heavy iron door creaked open, Ishtar stepped inside without hesitation. The scene before him was even gloomier than the street outside. It was pitch black, and a heavy smell of mold assaulted his nostrils. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed how dilapidated the room was; the floors were covered in a thick layer of dust, and massive spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling corners wrapped around the room like grey curtains.
Right in the middle of the room, a silhouette stood among the shadows. He wore the exact same cloak as the people Ishtar had seen that day. On the collar of the cloak, a metallic gleam caught his attention: A Black Isotra Brooch.
The man's icy voice broke the silence:
"What is your purpose here?"
Instead of answering, Ishtar reached into his pocket. He took out the medallion the black-haired girl had given him that day and tossed it through the air towards the man.
The man caught the medallion with a nimble movement. When he looked at the metal in his palm, the threatening tone in his voice instantly turned into surprise.
"Oho... So the Branch Manager invited you personally. Wait here."
The man turned around and did something incredible before Ishtar's eyes: He walked toward the hard stone wall and passed through it like a ghost, disappearing.
Ishtar froze where he stood. Was this an illusion or high-level magic? Before long, the surface of the wall rippled as if it were a pool of water. The man had returned, but this time he wasn't alone. The smaller figure beside him slowly lowered the hood of her cloak.
Cascading black hair and those familiar, piercing eyes... It was the black-haired girl he had spoken to on the balcony that day.
The girl scanned Ishtar with a slight, mocking smile on her lips.
"So you came... Actually, I didn't expect you to come."
Ishtar's face turned serious. His muscles tensed, his body on alert for an attack that could come at any moment. He didn't know how strong these people were, and this was their turf.
As if noticing Ishtar's tension, the girl gestured toward the wall with her head.
"Follow me."
She turned and walked toward the wall, her body melting away amidst the stones. Ishtar took a deep breath. There was no turning back. He quickened his steps, closed his eyes, and followed them through the cold stone.
When the cold, jelly-like feeling of the wall left his body, Ishtar opened his eyes. He expected a dark, narrow corridor or a secret room. But the sight before him took his breath away, making his knees weak.
This wasn't a room; it was a massive underground world carved into the depths of the earth.
It was almost impossible to see the ceiling; the darkness above was supported by massive black pillars, each at least twenty men thick, standing tall like black trees reaching for the sky. The surface of the pillars was smooth, and strange runes engraved on them glowed faintly in the dim light. There was no trace of technology; no mana lamps or mechanical contraptions... Only the flickering flames of torches and the coldness of ancient stones.
Right at his feet, a massive staircase made of white marble spiraled down into the depths. Ishtar held onto the railings and looked down. Below resembled a small village hidden underground rather than a headquarters. Stone buildings, training grounds, and people running around... But all were silent, as if this was a place where time stood frozen.
Without waiting for Ishtar to recover from his shock, the black-haired girl began to descend the stairs. Ishtar stumbled after her. After descending hundreds of steps, they arrived at the center of the "village," a wide square.
In the very center of the square rose a colossal statue that seemed to rule over this entire underground world.
The statue was carved from a pitch-black stone resembling obsidian, just like the pillars around it. However, the details of the armor on it, the helmet on its head, and the massive sword piercing the ground were crafted from pure gold. The nobility of black and the splendor of gold were in a chilling harmony.
Ishtar had seen many god statues in the temples of the Empire; the God of Light, the Goddess of Fertility, the War Lord... But this silhouette resembled none of them. Although the face of the statue remained shadowed under the helmet, the dominant aura radiating from its stance could be felt even though it was made of stone.
Unable to take his eyes off the statue, Ishtar turned to the girl. His voice was a whisper:
"The one on this statue... Who is he? Which god? I have never seen him in any book or temple before."
The black-haired girl stopped. The mocking expression on her face vanished, replaced by deep respect and perhaps a little fear. She fixed her eyes on that massive black and gold silhouette.
"He is not a god..." the girl said, her voice echoing in the square. "Not yet. That person is the founder of our order... Tiran."
Lightning flashed in Ishtar's brain. The name he heard unlocked terrible tales locked away in the darkest corners of his mind.
Tiran.
This name was not just an ancient word, it was a curse. That terrifying figure described in school books, in the songs of bards, and in temple sermons... The monster who was the general of Apofiris, the God of Destruction, in the Lost Age, who turned half the world to ash with the Dark Army. According to legend, this demon, who brought humanity to the brink of extinction, could only be stopped by the holy light of "Hero Ashtar."
Ishtar stepped back in horror. His back hit a cold pillar. His eyes darted from the statue to the girl, and back to the statue.
"You..." he said, his voice trembling. Then he shouted in anger: "Have you lost your minds?! Do you worship the Demon God? He is a monster who bathed the world in blood! Humanity's greatest enemy, fought by Hero Ashtar!"
His voice exploded like a bomb in the silence of the underground city. A few cloaked figures in the square stopped and looked at them, but no one intervened.
The expression of respect on the black-haired girl's face did not disappear, but a bitter smile appeared on her lips. She seemed used to this reaction from Ishtar. She turned slowly to Ishtar; there was no anger in her eyes, only pity for a child.
"Demon God?" the girl said, her voice icy calm. "Did they never teach you that history is written by the victors, little blacksmith? The books don't write about what Ashtar, whom you call a hero, sacrificed to obtain that 'holy light,' or whom he betrayed."
The girl took a step closer to the statue and placed her hand on its pedestal.
"We do not worship Tiran. We are trying to complete the work he left unfinished. What will truly save the world is not light, but the justice of darkness."
Ishtar was horrified by what he heard. Could what was said be true? Was Hero Ashtar, whose fairy tales he had grown up listening to since childhood, actually a traitor? He couldn't accept this. He felt nauseous, dizzy; he wanted to leave this dark place immediately.
He turned his back and headed for the exit.
"I'm leaving. I can't take this anymore, you guys are insane!"
Just as Ishtar was about to leave, the girl suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Ishtar's arm.
"Wait! Listen to what I have to say first, then you are free to go."
Ishtar paused for a while and thought. If so many people lived down here, underground, there must be a valid reason. His curiosity outweighed his anger, and he decided to at least listen to what the girl had to say.
"Fine," he said in a cold voice. "But after listening to what you have to say, I'm leaving. You have only twenty minutes."
The girl nodded slightly.
"Alright. But follow me first, this place is too crowded to talk."
Ishtar followed the girl. She took him to a smaller room on the side. This room was empty and gloomy like the corridors before; there was only a table and two chairs inside.
"Please, sit. You must be thirsty coming here, would you like a drink?"
"No thanks, I won't stay long anyway."
The girl took off her cloak and left it on the table. Even in this dark place, her blood-red eyes shone like a fire in the night. She pulled out her chair, sat opposite Ishtar, and began to speak, staring into his eyes:
"You must have seen it on your way here... Beggars asking for money on the road, people who have lost their souls on the streets smoking drugs, children crying and shivering in a corner of the street without a mother or father... Actually, all of these are the work of those nobles you love so much."
The girl's voice grew harsher:
"They sell drugs to the public and line their pockets. They kidnap families with children and use them for their dirty work. Even villages are looted by the order of the Royal Family, and the young women there are kidnapped and sold as slaves to the nobles. Have you ever seen these? Of course you can't... You middle and high-income families are the dogs of the nobles. Of course, I'm wasting my breath here. After all, what would a brat like you, who is unaware of the world, who reads heroism tales day and night and believes in them, understand about the state of the poor living in slums like us?"
An angry expression appeared on Ishtar's face. He clenched his fists.
"What are you trying to say? Do you know what these words mean? These words are an insult to the Royal Family and the noble families protecting the Empire! Putting everything aside, what is this worshiping Tiran business? We are talking about a man who slaughtered half of humanity in the past and brought the world to the brink of destruction!"
Hearing these words, the girl slammed her hand hard on the table.
"Hey! If you speak ill of our Master one more time, I will kill you right here, do you understand me?!"
The red glow in the girl's eyes became even more savage.
"Our Master was the savior of the oppressed and slaves on earth. He did not get involved in corruption like you hypocritical nobles. Because of Ashtar and his cronies, our Master was portrayed as evil and devilish in the pages of history!"
Ishtar had no patience left to handle what he heard. He quickly got up from his seat and left the room. However, the guard at the door extended his spear and stopped Ishtar.
"Hey, noble brat! Where do you think you're going?"
Ishtar was overflowing with anger. His rage was so intense that he could have killed the man in front of him right there. He fixed his eyes on the guard and spoke with a serious, threatening expression:
"Get out of my way. Or I will kill you."
While the guard hesitated, the girl's voice rose from inside. Her voice was full of disappointment.
"Let him go. He turned out just like the others anyway. I misjudged him."
After this order from the Branch Manager, the man lowered his spear and stepped aside. Ishtar quickly left the shelter. He wanted to get out of this dark, oppressive, and gloomy place as soon as possible and get some fresh air.
After climbing the stairs for a long time, he finally left the bunker and found himself back in the filthy streets of the underground district. While walking with quick steps, three thugs suddenly emerged from a side alley and surrounded him. They held rusty knives in their hands.
"Hey you! Take out whatever you have in your pockets and give it to us."