The wind in the Lower Realm carried none of the warmth or softness of the silken clouds stretching across the Heavenly Realm.
It was bitterly cold, cutting into my skin like sharp blades.
It carried the salty taste of melting snow and the smell of rotting earth rising from the dark mountain ranges in the distance.
I stood at the top of the mountain pass and drew in a deep breath.
My chest rose and fell as I tried to contain the unfamiliar air filling my lungs.
The taste of the mortal world spread across my tongue—the astringency of moss mixed with the bitter tang of dust and smoke drifting from the distant forests.
As my lungs opened to receive the open sky, memories of the first days after I had fallen from the Heavenly Realm suddenly surged back into my mind.
Three years ago, I had been nothing more than a frail child, my knees bruised black from the fall through the clouds.
I still remembered how violently my hands and legs had trembled when I saw fresh blood spilling from my wounds.
I also remembered how foolishly innocent I had been, believing that the holy magic I had learned could protect me from every storm.
Back then, even the faintest roar of a monster in the night had been enough to make me curl into myself in terror.
But three years beneath the earth had wrung that weakness out of me.
The countless scars running across my arms, the numbness in two of my fingers after scorpion venom had infected them for an entire week, and the bitter taste of water filtered through charcoal and roots… all of it had washed away the child I used to be.
The metallic taste of hurried meals eaten in the darkness still lingered faintly on my tongue.
Even so, the simple sensation of breathing freely—of no longer being imprisoned underground—made every muscle in my body tremble with something dangerously close to joy.
“Do not celebrate too soon over a little fresh air, fallen child.” Mammon’s voice came from behind me.
It was low and cold, like metal scraping against metal at the bottom of a grave.
“The Lower Realm is no paradise for the innocent.
Before you have the chance to see mortal houses or the bright lanterns of the kingdoms, you must cross this boundary first.” He raised one blackened finger, long, crooked, and twisted, pointing toward a valley drowned in thick fog between two towering ranges of limestone.
“That place is known to mortals as the Holy Land of Arcane Metals.” I narrowed my eyes and looked down.
From above, the valley resembled a massive basin abandoned by an ocean of time.
The air below was not clear.
It was a murky gray, rolling gently like some thick, sluggish liquid.
The temperature dropped the moment I stepped onto the first stone steps leading into the valley.
Damp cold clung tightly to my skin, leaving behind a thin, sticky film that felt like frost mixed with grease.
The monster-leather clothing I wore grew heavy, sticking painfully against my scarred shoulders.
The ground beneath my feet crackled and crunched in strange, unnatural patterns.
I crouched down and picked up a handful of ore.
Under the dim light, I saw countless glittering fragments reflecting the faint glow—rusted iron, scrap copper, broken quartz, and fine grains of sand shining with a brass-colored radiance.
The soil here had not been built from leaves or fertile earth.
It had been formed from the decomposed remains of countless ancient metals.
Every living sound seemed to have been swallowed completely.
There were no birds singing, no insects chirping in the darkness.
Only the wind passing through the cracks between the rocks, producing long, hollow howls that sounded like the sighs of ghosts.
Yet when I quieted my mind and listened beneath the wind, I could still hear something else.
Krrt… krrt… The faint sound of metal striking metal.
Mammon floated beside me, his shadow swallowing the weak starlight around us.
“This place contains countless treasures.” His voice was mocking, and his blood-red eyes gleamed with amusement.
“Pure gold, rare ores, the purest magic stones—the very things humans are willing to stab one another over… all of them lie scattered beneath that layer of ash.” He looked across the valley.
“But this world always operates according to the principle of equal exchange.
If you want to touch the treasures, you must first survive the Strange Laws governing this place.” I stopped walking.
My hands tightened instinctively as I focused on the Holy Power and Magic Power circulating quietly within my palms.
“Laws?” “That is right.” Mammon lowered his voice.
His whisper seemed to worm its way through every layer of cold air.
“This land does not judge living beings by species, strength, or status.
Here, monsters hunt according to the absolute laws of metal attributes.” He paused for a moment.
His eyes, deep as bottomless pits, slid toward me with hidden meaning.
“The calcium in your bones, or the remnants of Holy Power and Magic Power flowing through your soul… none of those things matter very much here.” Mammon’s lips curved slightly.
“What truly turns you—and every other living being—into prey is the amount of iron in your blood.” I listened in silence.
“To them, the iron element in every drop of hot blood flowing through your heart is also metal.
And it is completely subject to this land’s cruel hunting laws.” A strange smell began to force its way into my nose.
It was not the rotting stench of ordinary monster flesh and bones.
It was a sharp, metallic odor—the bitter tang of rust mixed with the heavy scent of sulfur and the ozone left behind after a thunderstorm.
The smell made the inside of my nose sting.
Its bitterness spread down my throat and settled there.
Through the gray fog, a massive silhouette slowly emerged.
It was a grotesque creature with a body as immense as an ancient Golem, yet it had no head at all.
Its chest was completely flat, compressed from flowing masses of pure gold fused against patches of rusted armor.
Its limbs were even more horrifying.
They were not human arms or legs, but crooked insect legs, jointed and sharp like the limbs of a praying mantis or a venomous spider.
They pierced deep into the stone beneath them, producing a series of clicking sounds that raised gooseflesh across my skin.
“The ancient Latin texts called them Aurum Vorago,” Mammon whispered.
“Remember the brutal hunting laws of the Golden Monsters.” I could not take my eyes off the creature.
“They can sense and pursue only those living beings carrying metal with a purity lower than their own.
Whether that metal is in the weapon you carry or hidden within the iron in every drop of blood passing through your heart—if its grade is lower than gold, you will be torn apart.” I narrowed my eyes.
“What happens if a living being carries no metal at all?” “In the eyes of an Aurum Vorago, that being is completely invisible.” Mammon gave a mocking laugh.
“They have no eyes and no ears.
They perceive the world only through the vibrations of metal.
Carrying no metal means there is no inferior measure for them to identify.” His smile grew colder.
“But if someone possessing divine metal or an overwhelmingly superior grade appears… the Aurum Vorago will immediately liquefy its body into a stream of molten gold and burrow deep into the earth to escape the pressure.” I nodded, forcing myself to memorize every word.
Yet the more I learned, the less comfort I felt.
Each new rule seemed like another invisible cord tightening around my throat.
Mammon turned his gaze toward another headless Golem standing nearby.
Its entire body was covered in gleaming platinum armor, reflecting a cold light through the fog.
“That one is an Argentum Superbum—the Platinum Monster.
It has a body similar to the insect-limbed Golem, but its nature is far more arrogant and violent.” Mammon continued speaking in an even tone, though his words carried a clear warning.
“When faced with weaker metals, it will immediately unleash its power.
The platinum shell covering its body will flare violently, radiating a blinding metallic glow as if it intends to crush everything inferior beneath its light.
It uses that radiance to suppress and destroy its prey.” I watched the cold light sliding across the monster’s armor.
For one brief moment, it felt like the gaze of a proud creature looking down upon everything weaker than itself.
Mammon’s eyes grew darker.
“But if it encounters a living being possessing a stronger type of metal, the Argentum Superbum will not flee like the Aurum Vorago.” He continued slowly, each word weighing down the air around us.
“It will charge straight at its opponent and offer its own body as a sacrifice.
The metallic light within it will continue to erupt, growing brighter and more violent until its entire body explodes in a dazzling burst of radiance.” I stared silently at the platinum Golem before me.
A chill moved down my spine.
Its behavior was not merely violent.
There was something insane about it—an utter lack of fear, a willingness to burn itself away simply to drag a stronger enemy into destruction with it.
“After exploding, it will vanish into the light and enter a state of rebirth.
But no one knows how long that process takes, or when it will appear again in the Holy Land of Arcane Metals.” I swallowed hard.
The bitter taste still clung stubbornly to my tongue.
These were the first two kinds of monsters Mammon and I had encountered after entering the Holy Land of Arcane Metals—the Golden Monster, Aurum Vorago, and the Platinum Monster, Argentum Superbum.
One concealed itself and hunted every living creature carrying metal inferior to its own.
The other was arrogant enough to throw itself into death, radiating light and exploding before an opponent stronger than itself.
The Holy Land of Arcane Metals was not an ordinary battlefield where the strong crushed the weak with muscle and brute force.
This place was a maze of Laws.
One wrong step, a single item carried into the valley that violated its rules, or simply an insufficient amount of iron in one’s blood—all of it could instantly turn a living being into fuel for the strange creatures that roamed this land.
The valley wind swept past again, carrying the sound of broken metal striking against metal and the sharp, bloody scent that invaded my nose.
I clenched my fists and began circulating the Magic Power and Holy Power gathered inside me, ready to unleash them at a moment’s notice.
Would the amount of iron in my body be enough to deceive the laws of the Golden Monster?
Or would the eruption of my Magic Power create a reflected radiance that turned me into a target for the Platinum Monster?
I stood frozen at the edge of the gray fog, staring into the blurred emptiness ahead—the place filled with treasures and the merciless traps of the human world.
Just as I focused completely, stretching every sense to detect the slightest movement in the valley, a freezing aura suddenly pressed close against the back of my neck.
The fine hairs along my spine stood on end.
That horrifying chill was not the wind.
Mammon continued floating calmly beside me.
His eyes, deep as bottomless pits, stared into the empty space directly behind me.
He curled his lips into a faint smile and spoke in an almost casual tone, though the threat in his voice was suffocating.
“Do not move, Fallen…” His voice echoed through the silent fog.
“Right behind you…” Mammon paused for a heartbeat.
“…is Death itself.”