Ancient Ruins

In fact, the Ancient Ruins—or rather, relic—Gawain remembered were not far from where the party had camped. They lay on the northern side of the Dark Mountains, most of them hidden inside the mountain, with part of their structures exposed amid the cliff faces. In theory, one only needed to look up at the distant Dark Mountains to spot portions of the ancient site among the rock walls hundreds of meters above the ground.

However, the passage of time had erased the marks of civilization. Vines and mountain vegetation had spread across the cliffs, burying the ruins beneath layer upon layer of growth. Combined with the collapse of the relic itself and the accumulation of earth and stone on the mountainside, the structures exposed outside the mountain had become difficult to observe. From the campsite, even a hunter with the sharpest eyesight would struggle to immediately notice anything unusual among the rocks and vines.

After arranging matters at the camp, Gawain and his three companions set off into the mountains. A mere ten years would not have changed the terrain much. With the satellite image from ten years ago in his mind, along with the route into the mountains he remembered, Gawain's group easily found their way uphill.

Amber looked somewhat uneasy. "Say... you're heading into the Dark Mountains to dig up treasure, right? There are only four of us. Don't you think this party is a little risky?"

Gawain glanced at the Half-elf. "Then what do you suggest?"

Amber gestured wildly. "At the very least, we need an escort of several hundred people, over a dozen master-level rangers and druids holding the line, knights clearing the way in front, mages stationed in the rear, and a Grandmaster Thief as capable as me to pick locks and slip through doors—isn't that the standard setup for treasure hunting in the mountains?"

"Standard my ass!" Gawain had thought she might have some insightful advice, but it turned out to be nothing but nonsense. "What treasure-hunting party is equipped like a regular army? And you make it sound easy—why don't you put together a group like that for me?"

"Fine, I exaggerated a little, but these are the Dark Mountains! The Dark Mountains!" Amber flailed her arms dramatically. "The place where, according to legend, a Demon Lord lives every eight hundred meters! And you're taking just three people into the mountains—and one of them only knows how to cast Fireball Spell..."

"You think I can't beat you flat without using a Fireball Spell?!" Rebecca immediately flew into a rage, raising her staff and pointing it at Amber. "I'll show you how formidable the women of the Cecil family are!"

Gawain stopped his N+1-generation great-granddaughter and gave Amber a helpless look. "That mouth of yours will get you killed sooner or later. And where did you hear that there's a Demon Lord every eight hundred meters in the Dark Mountains? That's just ignorant villagers scaring children. If there were really that many Demon Lords, they would have swept across Ansu long ago."

As he spoke, he lifted his head and looked toward the winding mountain path ahead.

"The Dark Mountains are indeed dangerous, but ordinary people have exaggerated their dangers far too much. During the Gondor Empire era, these mountains were merely one of the ordinary northern ranges. Together with the high mountain ranges in the southern part of the continent, they were known as Loren's two great northern and southern mountain systems. Back then, the Dark Mountains were not dark at all. On the contrary, because of their abundant resources and many mineral deposits, they were known as the Gold-Inlaid Mountains. Unfortunately, the Magic Tide later erupted, and the Dark Mountains happened to face the area struck hardest by the Elemental Storm—the entire southern foothills were eroded by the elements, forming the dreaded Black Forest. Only then did people gradually begin calling them the Dark Mountains."

Gawain spoke of what he knew—part of it came from the memories in his mind, while the rest was knowledge he had crammed recently.

"The Black Forest on the other side of the mountains is indeed dangerous, but it lies to the south. This mountain range forms a natural barrier that almost completely blocks the aura from the Gondor Wasteland, which spreads through the Great Wall. Most mutated monsters living in the Black Forest need Chaotic Demonic Energy to survive, so they would never leave the Black Forest, much less cross the ridge and enter these northern lands, where they would find it hard to breathe. The northern side of the Dark Mountains is actually quite safe."

The route Gawain had chosen was not heavily covered in vegetation, but they still occasionally encountered trees growing across the path and vines creeping over from the roadside. These plants, which grew tenaciously in the Dark Mountains, had all been affected to some extent by the aura of the wasteland—the trace amounts of Elemental Wind that drifted northward every year on the air currents, known to Viscount Andrew as the Unclean Wind. Under the influence of that chaotic Elemental Power, the plants had become twisted and abnormally thick, giving them a rather savage and frightening appearance.

But Gawain knew very well that aside from looking a little scary, these things posed no threat at all. They were simply somewhat "stronger" plants. Those noble youngsters who wandered around the forests north of the Dark Mountains before returning home to boast that they had undergone training in the Black Forest were all exaggerating the danger of this land—they had no idea what the real Black Forest looked like.

The reason he could be certain that the pollution on the northern side of the Dark Mountains had already faded was not because of the memories in his mind or intelligence he had gathered. It was because of that satellite image from ten years ago.

As long as he compared the satellite image with the information in his memories, it was easy to determine that this place was already a Safe Zone.

"People's fear of this place actually comes from two things. First, there is their fear of the Gondor Wasteland. Although the Sentinel Towers and Great Wall built by the elves sealed off most of the Gondor Wasteland, that magical barrier could only block seventy or eighty percent of the Chaotic Demonic Energy. Every year, the corrupting power that seeped out of the Gondor Wasteland remained the greatest threat to the border regions of the four kingdoms. Even though the aftereffects of the Magic Tide have now faded, the fear and pressure accumulated by generations of border folk cannot disappear so quickly. The horror stories of these borderlands have been passed down for seven hundred years and have long become almost part of their traditional culture," Gawain said casually as he hacked away at the plants blocking their path. "Second... there is the fear of the unknown."

"The unknown?" Amber asked with a frown.

"That's right. The unknown. How many years has the Ansu Kingdom stopped expanding southward?"

Rebecca answered, "If we count from the signing of the order to halt expansion, more than two hundred years. If we count from the withdrawal of all frontier settlements, one hundred years."

"That's right, at least one hundred years. For a full century, this place has been listed as forbidden land. Aside from those 'adventurers' who went home and bragged afterward, no one dared approach it, so no one knew what it was really like. They could only learn about this place from terrifying stories passed down through generations and Adventure Stories made up by boasting adventurers. How could they not be afraid?"

After listening to Gawain's lengthy explanation, Amber finally let out a breath. "Whew... so the horror stories about the Dark Mountains are all exaggerated? We're actually safe here?"

Gawain thought for a moment, then suddenly leaned close to the Half-elf girl with a terrifying expression. "Actually, I lied to you—this place is gloomy, dangerous, chaotic, and terrifying, and a Demon Lord lives every eight hundred meters."

Amber: "...Eeeek!!"

"And you call yourself a Grandmaster Thief. How embarrassing," Gawain said with a satisfied smile. He raised a hand and patted Rebecca on the head, then pointed at a tree trunk lying across the ground not far away. "Your Fireball Spell finally has a use—blow that thing apart. If I remember correctly, it's just ahead."

Rebecca had been waiting for this moment for a long time. She immediately nodded happily, raised her staff, and sent a head-sized fireball flying straight ahead.

It felt like this girl was conjuring fireballs faster than before...

Bang—

After a loud explosion, the fireball burst apart. The already rotten and fragile tree trunk was blasted in half, and its two unbalanced sections rolled down the mountainside. The path ahead opened up at once.

An open space hidden in the mountains appeared before everyone.

This open space seemed to have been deliberately leveled by someone. The mountain rocks had been cut into unbelievably neat forms. Between the stones stood ancient archways and collapsed walls, embedded among massive crags and cliffs as though they had fused with the mountain itself. It even created an illusion—as if a magnificent fortress had once stood here, only to be swallowed by the surrounding rock.

But in truth, the ancient relic itself had been built inside the mountain. Around two-thirds of its structure remained hidden behind those rock walls.

Whether it was Amber, who had been timid the entire way, Rebecca, who had been seriously listening to her ancestor's lecture, or Knight Byron, who had remained fully alert, all of them widened their eyes at the sight of this Ancient Ruins hidden within the mountain.

They stared in shock at the incredible ruins of an ancient age.

Gawain's line of sight, however, swept across the surroundings before suddenly stopping beside a patch of collapsed rubble.

He walked over to the stone pile. Stuck in it was a blackened object whose original form was almost impossible to make out. Only after examining it for a long time did he realize it was a badly rusted and decayed broken sword.

On the ground beside the stone pile, there was a line of engraved marks. They were so deep that even after seven hundred years of weathering, they remained clearly visible: Squad 16, Cole rests here.

Rebecca's voice came from behind him. "What... is this?"

"When the force crossed the White Water River, we encountered pursuers. Squad 16 was responsible for covering the rear, and none of them survived," Gawain said slowly. "The final surviving soldier must have retreated here after realizing there was no hope of breaking through. Unfortunately... the Magic Tide was raging at the time, and the entire Dark Mountains region was shrouded in corrupting power. In my lifetime, we were never able to reclaim this land. By the time the Magic Tide receded naturally, no one remembered this place anymore..."

Knight Byron removed his sword from his belt, pressed the blade against his chest, and bowed in tribute to the simple grave.

The soldiers buried here still had a grave, but the warrior who built it and left behind those engraved marks could no longer be found in the slightest trace.

Gawain stood silently before the grave for a while. Then he picked up a piece of rubble and placed it atop the stone pile. "Rest easy. Everyone made it out alive."

At that moment, he wished he had spoken those words as Gawain Cecil, rather than Gawain the transmigrator.

Then he walked toward the archway not far away. "Come with me. I'll show you what your ancestors left behind here."