In the secret room, the orange-yellow light of a lamp on a square table was not enough to illuminate the darkness here.
A slightly hunched white-haired old man sat down.
Across from him, on the empty chair, a faint dark shadow squirmed slightly.
When the blackness faded a little, a humanoid figure appeared on that chair.
A gray-black cloak, its hood covering his entire head.
The lamplight couldn’t pierce the darkness beneath the hood, concealing his features.
From his build, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and unmistakably male.
His hands, wrapped in gray cloth strips, revealed only five fingers, each one dark and rough.
He held a letter and waved it in front of the old man.
“You need to create the conditions for me. If he’s holed up in the castle, I don’t have that kind of ability.”
“Naturally.”
The old man nodded calmly.
“We’ll create the conditions for you. Not only that, we’ll increase your pay, as long as you can ensure his elimination.”
With that, he took out a long, rectangular wooden box.
The box was about 40 centimeters long, painted dark red all over, carved with what appeared to be sealing runes.
The man glanced at the box, then looked back at the old man.
The old man reached out and pressed his hand on the box.
A white light emerged, and the rune formation dissolved into specks of light.
The instant the seal was lifted, a sinister aura surged through the secret room.
This aura chilled the entire space, giving the man an involuntary shiver.
Dangerous! The thing in the box was extremely dangerous—it could kill him.
The man stared at the old man, his gaze piercing through the shadows and landing on the old man’s murky eyes.
“What is this?”
“A Depth Creation.”
The old man unlatched the clasp and revealed the contents of the box.
In that instant, the light from the lantern dimmed significantly.
The flame was obviously still the same size, yet the darkness in the surrounding space grew even denser.
All because of the thing in the box.
It was a deep-black dagger, 30 centimeters long.
The hilt was wrinkled, shaped like a finger, separate from the blade, and the seam where they joined was filled with twisting distortion.
The man felt a stabbing pain in his soul with a single glance.
Through his line of sight, the dagger fed some kind of power back into him.
He immediately averted his gaze and fixed his eyes on the old man.
The old man smiled and said:
“It can utterly annihilate souls, let alone mere mortal souls below Tier 3.”
“Good.”
He agreed.
“I’ll use this dagger.”
The old man closed the box again and restored the sealing formation, stopping the aura from leaking out.
The darkness in the secret room returned from its dense state to its original calm.
He put away the wooden box and vanished into the darkness, leaving only the old man sitting there alone.
Out in the night, the man who had left leaned against a wall, looking at the finely crafted wooden box in his hand, and murmured to himself:
“Depth Creations… these nobles really are… filthy rich.”
The Abyss Ruins—the place where all things perish.
Once matter falls toward the Abyss Ruins, it has already begun an unstoppable march toward that end.
And in this process, the concept of “Depth” emerges.
It is not a space of up or down, inside or out, but rather an approximate concept of past and future, merely manifested in an observable form.
So-called Depth Creations are strange artifacts forged by the power of Depth, within the “Depth” that exists between the Material Realm and the Abyss Ruins.
They often possess bizarre abilities, and always carry some unclean thing attached.
Within the “Depth” between the Material Realm and the Abyss Ruins dwell terrifying beings that cannot be described.
They are also called the “Old Ones.”
The vast majority of Depth Creations are influenced by them.
In other words, this Depth Creation dagger contained a trace of their mighty power.
Dangerous, but devastatingly effective.
If put up for trade, it could fetch an extremely high price.
There was no shortage of buyers for Depth Creations.
To kill a single person, they would willingly give away such a weapon for free—it even made him feel it was a bit of a waste.
But this was the employer’s request.
All he had to do was deliver a perfect result for his employer.
He merged into the shadows and disappeared into the night.
—
“Big sister, what are you thinking about?”
A girl’s voice sounded.
The gray-haired girl snapped out of her daze and turned to look at the little girl beside her, smiling.
Fanna reached out and ruffled the hair of the little girl, who wasn’t even as tall as her chest.
“Nothing much.”
She turned her gaze toward the courtyard gate.
A middle-aged man with messy hair and a face full of stubble walked in.
The little girl hid timidly behind Fanna, hugging her waist tightly, as if afraid of the man.
“Little Annie, go back to your room for now.”
The little girl hesitated for a moment, then let go of Fanna’s waist.
“Mhm.”
Then she tiptoed away.
Only Fanna and the middle-aged man remained in the courtyard.
The two were silent for a while.
In the end, the middle-aged man spoke first.
“I found a job recently. They’re paying quite well. Once I get the money, it should be enough to cover your expenses at Wolumonde Academic City.”
Fanna lowered her eyes slightly and sighed.
“Mr. Gal, you don’t need to do so much for me.”
Gal shook his head, looking unconcerned.
“I promised your mother I’d take care of you. I don’t have any real skills—I’m only good at fighting.”
“But if you come back drenched in blood like last time, Little Annie will be scared.”
This wasn’t the first time Fanna had said this.
But every time, Gal brushed it off with a similar excuse.
She knew Gal fought in the arena, earning money with bloody combat.
A single match could earn a great deal of money—enough to provide her cultivation resources and still save a considerable amount.
But Fanna knew that this money was bought with Gal’s life.
Gal walked straight toward his house.
Fanna watched his back and felt a flicker of confusion when she saw the bundle.
Uncle Gal rarely brought things back from outside.
As the door closed, Fanna looked up at the full moon in the sky.
She pressed her hands together and prayed.
It was said that the gods’ heaven lay in the Astral Realm, and the moon was the window of the Astral Realm.
That was why people prayed toward the moon.
It was said that during a full moon, prayers were more easily conveyed to the gods.
“Lady Goddess, please watch over Mr. Gal. May he return safely this time as well…”
A thought suddenly popped into Fanna’s mind.
Do the gods truly watch over the people of the mortal world?
Her parents had been so devout, yet they still…
The girl tucked away these thoughts.
She rubbed her brow, involuntarily recalling the figure she had seen today, and the breathtaking insight she had felt from that single sword strike.
“Will he also go to Wolumonde Academic City?”
Fanna let out a long breath and turned to go back inside.
—
Gal leaned back against the door, holding the cloth-wrapped box in his arms, quietly staring into the dark depths.
As if recalling something.
After a brief daze, hearing Fanna return to her room, he sat on the simple bed, closed his eyes, and dozed lightly, waiting for that opportunity to come.