An accident?

Amid the faint sound of waves breaking, their footsteps echoed through the passage at the mausoleum's entrance, overlapping endlessly before fading among the black stones.

Soon, Anne stopped. Collapsed stone and earth lay before her. The soil had an unusual hue, as though mixed with the remnants of powerful explosives, while the rubble bore traces of scorching by Holy Flame. Even after a century, a faint sacred aura lingered.

"After he died in White Maple Palace, the Church of Steam and the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun worked together to locate eight mausoleums scattered around the world and destroy them. This was one of them."

Behind her, Bernadette slowly approached and murmured those words, pressing a hand toward the collapsed section ahead. With a continuous rumbling, the rubble and earth shifted to either side, revealing a passage large enough for them to enter.

"It has been completely destroyed."

Without entering the narrow passage, Anne stood at its mouth and sensed everything.

Her golden eyes reflected everything inside. All the decorations and murals had been stripped away. The lower half of the Iron Throne, seemingly built for a giant, had melted under intense heat and solidified again into an abstract mass. The crown atop its backrest had warped, and the patterns engraved on its surface had been scraped away by brute force.

Yet Anne could still sense a faint trace of an aura within it, one belonging to order and chaos, to distorted yet self-contained rules. It stirred a hint of nostalgia in her heart.

"Are there any clues, Anne?"

Bernadette asked expectantly.

"His aura is still here, but the mausoleum itself is useless now. Otherwise, you wouldn't even have been able to move those obstacles just now." Anne turned back, her gaze slightly dimmed. "You should know that even