RUMBLE—
Accompanied by the rustle of falling dust and the scraping of rusted hinges, the heavy stone doors of the underground ruins were pushed open.
The faint glimmer of pale flames illuminated the dust-covered hall, the murals and pillars along the walls of the circular chamber, the ancient Magic Array in the center, and the suits of armor standing guard around the perimeter.
The ancient copper-colored suits of armor stood in silence, the Armor covered in green patina and frenzied patterns.
CLACK, CLACK, CLACK.
Following the metallic clashing of Armor, a pair of dark, armored combat boots stepped one by one into the dark, ancient hall.
The newcomer was a tall, slender figure clad in ferocious Black Armor, wearing a Monarch-like scarlet cape and a full-face Demon Horn Helmet, looking exactly like a Fallen Demon plummeting from the sky. The black-armored figure dragged a bloodstained Long-Handled Hammer Spear in one hand and held a pale fireball high in the other, striding through the entrance step by step.
After taking a moment to scan the surroundings, the black-armored figure let out a long sigh, set down the Hammer Spear, and tossed aside the illuminating pale fireball. Grabbing the ferocious Demon Horn Helmet with both hands, the figure gave it two tugs, hissed softly while prying loose the steel-gray hair caught in the helmet’s seams, and finally pulled it off.
Revealed beneath the helmet was a girl’s delicate yet haggard face. With steel-gray hair and steel-gray eyes, her pale face bore dark circles. She stared ahead with lifeless eyes, illustrating just how exhausting chronic sleep deprivation and high-intensity trekking—comparable to a world expedition—could be for a member of the Mixed-blood Demon Race.
This was the sixth underground ruin. Leaning on her heavy Hammer Spear, Talia Ronov tucked the charred Demon Horn Helmet under her arm and stared blankly at the Magic Array in the hall before her.
It had been three years since her father and mother died. And it had been two years since her father’s Rondolan Dungeon enterprise went bankrupt.
The Demon Race was a cruel species where the strong preyed on the weak. Talia’s mother was a human. As a member of the Mixed-blood Demon Race, her strength was nowhere near enough to protect everything her father had left behind.
Talia Ronov plopped down in front of the pale illuminating flame and tossed her helmet aside. Curled up and wrapping herself in her scarlet cape, she stared blankly at the flame on the floor.
Despite her tall and slender physique, and an armored frame rivaling that of a human Berserker, sitting here in the hall of this underground ruin’s Holy Hall beneath a high, unlit dome made her and the pale flame before her seem insignificantly small.
Talia hugged her knees, rocking back and forth slightly on the ground as her Armor emitted a soft CLANG CLANG with every movement.
She reached up and grabbed the thin iron chain hanging around her neck. Following the necklace’s chain, she pulled a faintly glowing pale-blue crystal from between her armored gorget and breastplate. The crystal lay quietly in her palm, which was covered by a charred Hand Armor. Her clawed armored fingertips gently flicked the crystal, producing a faint metallic clinking sound.
This was a Divine Artifact left behind by her father. An... Ethereal Crystal, capable of providing power to certain specific Divine Halls.
In the ancient Age of Gods, powerful deities once developed magnificent and glorious technologies. Although the gods later left this world, a portion of their technological products remained here, known as "Divine Artifacts" or "Relics of the Gods." Some were enshrined in human Holy Halls, while others were fiercely contested by the Demon Race.
Of course, the vast majority were still buried deep underground, hidden in ancient divine ruins deeply embedded in the earth’s strata, housed within bizarre structures merged seamlessly with rock veins.
The Ethereal Crystal left by her father was a special Divine Artifact. It could not be used independently, nor could it store or release Magic Power. Its sole purpose was to serve as an energy source to activate certain underground ruins.
Judging by the dimming of its glow after each use, the Ethereal Crystal could be used a maximum of thirteen times. Naturally, with the gods gone, no one knew what the principles and functions of these underground ruins truly were.
Activating an unknown ruin was like a high-stakes gamble. It might yield nothing, or the ruin might explode. It might open the long-sealed doors of a treasury, spit out a powerful Divine Artifact, or spew forth a massive amount of ancient wealth.
Her father had wagered on this Ethereal Crystal seven times. Three times, he gained nothing. Twice, he barely escaped exploding or collapsing ruins. The remaining two times, he acquired ancient wealth and an indecipherable codebook. Relying on this wealth, he built his very own Rondolan Dungeon and became a renowned Monarch of a Demon Country.
And Talia... had already gambled five times. Four times yielded nothing, and one ruin collapsed.
This was her last chance. She stared blankly at the dim pale-blue crystal in her palm. It was just like the fairy tale "The Little Match Girl." She was that little girl staring blankly at a matchbox on a snowy winter night.
For two years, she had wandered the Barren Land, searching for ancient ruins and hacking through obstacles to delve deep underground, dreaming that striking a match in the ruins of a Holy Hall would bring her a beautiful life.
Talia gripped the crystal tightly and buried her face in the crook of her arm.
But metallic armor wasn’t absorbent; there was no way to wipe her tears. Two beads of moisture slowly slid down the cold, curved metal surface of her arm guard, leaving two wet trails, before falling to the ground with two surprisingly loud PLOP PLOP sounds.
"Let’s do this one last time," she thought, sniffling. "Maybe the ruin will explode. But right now, an explosion doesn’t sound so bad."
Within the underground ruin, beneath the high and distant dome, Talia’s small figure held up the pale-blue crystal, just like the girl on the winter streets holding up her final match.
The instant blue light flashed from her palm, countless deep-blue lines converged on the walls of the Holy Hall ruins. Flowing like shimmering water, they illuminated the hall as brightly as day, rendering it as glorious as the Age of Gods tens of thousands of years ago!
The guardian armors encircling the Holy Hall suddenly emitted CLACKING sounds, convulsing in the blue light!
Eerie blue arcs of light danced and converged on the Magic Array in the center of the grand hall. Intricate Runes linked with one another until, finally, a semi-transparent, ethereal figure flashed within the Magic Array—
CRACK.
The Magic Array abruptly shattered.
The light retreated as well, and the Holy Hall returned to silence. The daylight-like glory vanished, and even the pale fireball used for illumination went out. Only a deathly dark silence remained within the ruins of the Holy Hall, along with a faint, feeble sob...
And a confused young man’s voice asked, "Where is this? Why is it pitch black?"
The sobbing ceased. A bright, pale fireball ignited once again as the black-armored Talia stood up from the ground. Carrying her heavy Long-Handled Hammer Spear and holding the fireball high, her face was filled with hope.
"Who is it?" she asked softly.
The Holy Hall was completely empty; there was nothing in the illuminated space. The circular Magic Array on the ground had been pierced straight through by a fissure, making it look like a cruel, vertical pupil.
"Uh... classmate, what’s going on?" the young voice asked blankly. "Whoa, is this an anime convention? Cosplay? Your armor is incredibly cool! The art style looks just like something out of Dark Souls..."
"What... classmate?" Talia hesitated. "What is an anime convention and cosplay... dark souls?"
This was a dark soul from the Otherworld! She felt a little nervous.
"You... wait, aren’t you a college student? You look exactly like a college student..." the young voice asked. "I’m a junior. What about you? Upperclassman or underclassman?"
"What college? I-I am of the Half-Demon Race. I have never studied at the humans’ Lunos Academy..." Talia felt bewildered. She had envisioned countless scenarios in advance, but never one as baffling as this.
"Where are you? Step into the light and speak!" she demanded sternly, gripping her Hammer Spear as tightly as she could.
"Oh, oh, coming, coming! Sorry about that. The environment changed too fast; I didn’t react in time," the young voice said.
Accompanied by soft CLACK CLACK sounds, from a corner of the Holy Hall, a battered and ancient suit of armor—the one closest to the Magic Array—stepped step by step into the area illuminated by the pale flames. Standing with one leg straight and the other casually angled forward, it stood stiffly in the firelight in an incredibly cocky and flamboyant pose.
"Hello, hello! I’m Xia Mo’an, a college student." The battered, ancient armor rubbed its hands together enthusiastically, looking like a giant fly brown-nosing. "Classmate, do you happen to know what’s going on here? I was staying up late playing video games, so how did I end up at an anime convention?"
After his Hand Armor collided with a clack, he looked down and suddenly exclaimed, "Hey! Why am I wearing a set of Dark Souls-style armor too? This is freaking awesome, holy crap!"
"Wait a minute... don’t come any closer! Are you human or of the Demon Race? Why are you hiding inside the armor of an ancient ruin?" Talia cautiously extended her Hammer Spear and flicked open the visor of the battered armor’s helmet.
Beneath the visor, it was completely empty; there was nothing at all. It was a ghost. A ghost had been summoned by the Magic Array and had possessed this battered and incomplete ancient armor.
The Cursed Armor possessed by the ghost froze. He poked the tip of the Hammer Spear, then poked his own Hand Armor, finally noticing that it was completely empty inside the armor—there was no physical body to speak of.
A second later, he shrieked, "Holy crap! Where’s my body?!"