Chapter Sixty-Five: A Temporary Rest Mark

However, there was no need to dwell too much on the matters of the Upper District for now.

Hemtica was not an ordinary city. Compared to other cities chronicled in books, this ancient metropolis resembled a military fortress born for war rather than a mere settlement. Even before the arrival of the Dark Age, Hemtica already possessed a rigorous zoning plan. Although the terms “Upper District” and “Lower District” had yet to be coined and traffic restrictions were not stringent, the two grand city walls, stretching as far as the eye could see, implicitly divided the city into three loosely connected sections. Then, when the tide of chaos swept over all and the fire of the ancients flickered precariously, the Glorious Ones did not abolish this outdated policy of enclosure. Instead, they intensified the entry and exit controls between regions. After the Mist District fell, these controls reached their peak.

Aside from exalted figures such as the Glorious Ones and the Sword-bearers of the Order, and those essential to the flow of goods, the colossal city walls—seemingly inhuman in their construction—virtually split Hemtica into two unrelated cities. In the days immediately following the loss of the Mist District, the Lower District was gripped by panic; no one wished to see their family and all they cherished devoured by chaos, reduced to fodder for monsters. Everyone hoped they and their loved ones might live in the safer, more comfortable Upper District.

Thus began the largest smuggling operation in Hemtica’s history.

Yet, no matter how many schemes were devised, the wall that severed the world remained insurmountable. Climb it? The towering walls reached the clouds—how could one scale such heights? Even if one could, the curses from epochs predating the ancient kings would ensure those bold enough would remember the attempt with their lives. Dig a tunnel beneath? That seemed the most plausible option, but alas... The walls existed not only in the sky but underground as well. No matter how deep the tunnel, upon reaching the wall’s foundation, one encountered a layer as unyielding as bronze—no chisel could leave a mark, and not even a group effort could advance an inch.

In other words...

When the gates of the Upper District closed, the youth had no means to breach them.

“Should we try?” Once certain of this, the Glorious One turned to the girl at his side. In the Lower District, if anyone could break through the gate’s restrictions and pierce the divide between districts, it would be the Sword-bearer. “I don’t intend to wait passively here for an outcome.”

“I feel the same.” Mia understood his implication, though she clearly held little hope. “But it’s impossible—Hemtica is immensely ancient. Before the chosen one, crowned Kaiser, was named king, it was known as the ‘Threefold City That Never Falls.’”

“Threefold City?”

Upper District, Lower District, Mist District—Hemtica did indeed have a tri-layered structure. He vaguely recalled the name: in ancient myths, it was the city pierced by a single arrow, a symbol of invulnerability, though perhaps not auspicious. Yet, when it came to such legends, despite his memory containing much knowledge, he had never seen books about them in reality nor heard others speak of them. Only the lines of ancient texts hinted at their origins.

“Hemtica’s earliest origins are lost to time; it’s presumed to be the first city built by the ancients themselves.” Unexpectedly, it was Dick from the Dice House who responded. “But its naming is no mystery. In the era of the ancient kings, to commemorate the wise king Hemtica who slew the chaos beast Behemoth, the new king Kaiser issued his first decree upon ascending the throne—he bestowed Hemtica’s name upon the city where the previous king was born.”

“I see,” Amy said, not knowing much about that period of history. His focus was on the even more distant age of the ancients, and though he had dabbled in the era of the ancient kings, he hadn’t studied it deeply. Still, he was surprised that someone involved in intelligence would know so much about history drowned in darkness. “Unfortunately, this offers us no help with our current predicament.”

He paused, then abruptly changed the topic, “No, perhaps the Dice House has a solution after all.”

“That’s flattering,” the golden-haired, blue-eyed youth shook his head, his delicate features indistinct in the darkness. “But sadly, the Dice House is a group that only arose in the past century. Though we have some useful intelligence, we are not qualified to intervene in matters of this magnitude.”

“Moreover,” the Dice House’s emissary clumsily shifted the subject, “though it may be untimely to say so, until the threat of the Dark Guild is wholly eradicated, I believe we shouldn’t concern ourselves with other matters.”

“You’re right,” the young Glorious One nodded, his dark gaze fixed on the youth, his expression unreadable. “We must remain vigilant—on our way here, not only did we encounter no enemies, we didn’t even see any traps where we expected them.”

“Perhaps it’s chaos inside already.” Dick could only force a smile.

But what about the traps?

Amy had meant to press the advantage, but the Sword-bearer suddenly issued a warning.

“The scent of blood.”

Danger, then? Having faced death alongside her several times, the Glorious One immediately grasped what the girl meant. Without hesitation, he swallowed the words he was about to speak and instantly entered a combat-ready state. His steps grew lighter and slower, and... his gaze narrowed.

There was a corpse.

With the aid of faint light nearby, the Glorious One carefully examined it—a headless body, the victim likely barely past twenty, with muscles indicating he was not an athlete. He had died perhaps half an hour earlier. As for the cause—plain as day: his head had been severed cleanly, whether by blade, sword, or axe, blood splattering the cave roof in a ghastly crimson arc.

“It seems we are not the only guests here.” There were few clues on the corpse, even fewer to be deduced, and Amy did not intend to waste much time. If his guess was correct, there would be more bodies ahead. “I just wonder if they plan to be the clam and crane, or the fisherman.”

He glanced at the beautiful youth beside him—if someone intended to play the fisherman, then surely this one would be involved.

Yet, unexpectedly, Dick of the Dice House seemed oblivious to his implication.

“Clam and crane? Fisherman?” It was Mia who looked puzzled.

“Nothing,” Amy waved his hand, slightly embarrassed, but he did not let it go. After considering his words, he asked, “Have you found anything, Dick?”

“The wounds are odd.” The golden-haired, blue-eyed youth raised a brow. “Perhaps due to chaos, or some other reason, the Dark Guild made little real resistance to their enemy—the bodies each bear only one wound, killed swiftly with a single blow.”

“The bodies weren’t deliberately hidden, so... someone stormed in and wiped out everyone before they could react?” Surprised, the Glorious One was not overly concerned. When he first arrived in the Lower District, achieving such a feat would have been difficult, but after several battles, his command of combat had grown far beyond the past. Such an act posed little challenge now. “If that’s the case, the intruder is formidable.”

“No survivors,” the Sword-bearer said coldly.

“Their goal aligns with ours, it seems.” Amy nodded, having already anticipated this when he saw the first corpse. “But shared interests do not guarantee friendship—”

He glanced at the youth, “They might just as well be enemies.”

“That remains to be seen.” The Dice House’s emissary smiled cryptically. “Though the intruder’s purpose is unclear, thanks to them, we need not face the Dark Guild’s counterattack, nor stumble around like headless flies under their assaults.”

“Let’s hope so.”

This time, the Glorious One did not retort. Having someone break the first wave of pressure made things much easier, and though this was no reason to ignore the intervention of a third party, it was better to use the time to gather more intelligence. What must be faced, must be faced.

The three wandered wordlessly through the Dark Guild’s underground headquarters.

But all they saw were corpses; the path was stained red with blood.

Until...

The end of the corridor.

There was a door.

A door... Recalling the mission he bore, Amy’s gaze grew distant for a moment, but he quickly suppressed his unease and pushed open the ancient door.

And saw... a corpse.

Another corpse?

The young Glorious One was almost numb to corpses by now. He’d expected a surprise in a room resembling a control center, but found only another body.

No, just one.

He corrected himself, but before he could examine the corpse closely, Dick from the Dice House spoke first, his voice icy: “The Dark Guild is finished.”

“Reason,” the Sword-bearer asked.

“This man is the Guildmaster, the soul of the Dark Guild.” The golden-haired youth crouched, turning the body over, his gaze lingering on the blood-soaked left chest. “Pierced through the heart, beheaded—dead beyond doubt. With the mind of the organization slain and its ranks scattered, even if some escape outside, nothing can save the Guild from destruction.”

“What about the technology?” Amy cared little for the artificial demon technology, but for the Order, for Mia, it was a forbidden knowledge that had to be destroyed.

“The Guildmaster was the only one who knew the core secrets,” Dick explained. “Whether artificial demons or other projects, with his death, nothing can continue.”

How am I to believe you?

He almost asked, but changed his words at the last moment: “So the Dark Guild has lost all organizational strength?”

The young Glorious One knew that probing further would only waste time.

Whether the Guild truly perished as the Dice House’s emissary claimed, or whether the forbidden technology would be buried with the corpse, at least for now, the Dark Guild would not trouble him.

In other words... it was resolved.

It should have been a cause for celebration, yet at this moment, the youth felt only emptiness.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been overlooked.

He frowned, pondering, but found nothing.

“Since the Dark Guild has reached its inevitable end,” as alliances formed for mutual benefit dissolve with its loss, Dick was the first to speak after a brief silence, “it is time I take my leave.”

“Farewell.”

Even at the end, Amy did not know what to say to him, bidding him goodbye with nothing but a thin, powerless “farewell.”

So... matters in the Lower District had come to a close.

Watching the youth’s departing figure, the Glorious One couldn’t help but think so.

Next came...

The Upper District.

The Dark Nobles, and...

Pandora.