First Trial

Passing through the blood-red iron gate, a scene of hellish horror unfolded before Ryan and his companions. Under the glare of pale, bright lights, rows of cultivation tanks with cold, metallic surfaces stood in orderly fashion. Light filtered through the glass, illuminating murky, pale-yellow liquid where various grotesque creatures and dissected internal organs drifted like globs of body fat.

All manner of specimens were perfectly preserved in antiseptic solutions within sealed metal containers. One could find most species and creatures native to Faerûn here; at a single glance, Ryan spotted dozens of types, including Gnolls, Lizardfolk, Dwarves, Elves, Drow, and Dire Tigers.

Beyond these, various organs and biological tissues that would instantly shatter one's sanity were categorized and stored in sealed chambers.

In this frigid, cavernous laboratory, beyond the specimens kept in preservative jars, the biological samples vacuum-sealed and magically preserved in wall-mounted cabinets were the true stuff of nightmares.

Bleached, thick skeletons, neatly separated muscles, and supernatural organs—dark red, deep red, bright red, waxy yellow, pale, and ash-gray—all appeared distinct and orderly under the bright overhead lights.

These biological tissues were classified, divided, and collected in a highly scientific manner, following their own internal logic and functions.

Regrettably, most people in Faerûn lacked the scientific literacy to perceive this. To Jelona and the Dwarf shield-warrior, everything before them was a hellish scene that only the most insane and cold-blooded Lich or demon from the Abyss could create.

This high-impact imagery was filled with a blasphemous indifference toward pure, beautiful life. The malice and disregard for life exuded by this cold, frigid laboratory were palpable, leaving the nature-loving half-elf ranger cold in her limbs while her heart burned with fury.

Ryan, however, could glimpse the terrifying intellect and vast knowledge of the laboratory's owner through the details of the arrangement and texture. After all, when Ryan had studied necromancy, he had personally dissected evil creatures like Goblins and Kobolds, his own hands stained by the blood and vengeful spirits of hundreds.

Yet, the more experienced one is, the more one understands the profound implications hidden in seemingly plain sights. The shock and impact Ryan felt upon seeing this were far more intense than that felt by the half-informed Jelona and her companions.

Unlike the three outsiders who were merely shocked and saddened by the tragic scene, Ryan was not shaken by the cruelty itself. What chilled him to the bone was the purposeful indifference and extreme, egalitarian coldness displayed by the one who had wielded the blade.

That philosophy—where life and death are one, all things are equal, and whether it be a creature of his own kind, a lowly Goblin lamb, or a holy, noble Angel, all are equal under the scalpel—shook Ryan to his core. It made him realize that this predecessor from another world was by no means a kind-hearted grandfather figure.

Thanks to his formidable mental fortitude and his history of researching necromancy, Ryan quickly recovered from the shock and the drain on his sanity. He frowned as he looked at the frigid laboratory, as if he could hear the shrill screams of vengeful spirits and deep, profound despair.

Ryan's initial motivation for learning necromancy was not its destructive power or strategic toxicity; after all, Ryan, being kind by nature, had no intention of becoming a notorious necromancer hunted across the continent by fanatical religious zealots.

He had poured his energy into this cold, cruel magic solely because he valued the undead's ability to work 24/7 without rest, complaint, or grievance.

Unlike constructs that required periodic refueling, if one's mastery of necromancy was sufficient, one could command skeletons and undead to perform menial labor. With only a small amount of mana, one could obtain an ideal employee who worked without breaks or wages. (Provided, of course, that you weren't "happily sent away" by your summons due to a magical backlash.)

Ryan had once attempted to research undead creatures that ordinary people could control, hoping to liberate the labor of the lower classes and drive productivity—after all, there were precedents for this in Faerûn.

However, due to the nature of negative energy and his own limitations, Ryan had to abandon this promising research halfway through, leaving it temporarily among his unfinished projects.

As these frantic thoughts swirled in his mind, Ryan walked slowly past the sealed cultivation tanks. Seeing the helplessness and deep, dead despair still lingering on the twisted faces of the Elves and Dwarves inside, he silently warned himself: "Those with different paths cannot work together."

Although Ryan was deeply captivated by the philosophy and the underlying knowledge reflected in these specimens, he did not condone the cold cruelty that treated life as mere numbers. He became more resolute in his own convictions, while his wariness and vigilance toward this ruin and the Archmage Adam deepened.

Ryan's footsteps echoed through the empty laboratory, breaking the suffocating silence and pulling Jelona and the others back to reality.

"Ryan, wait for us!" The usually shrewd and tough half-elf ranger could not hide the panic on her face. In a place filled with such pale, cold death, Jelona instinctively followed the golden-haired mage she currently trusted and admired most.

Ryan stopped to wait for the three of them. Meanwhile, the boisterous Dwarf looked at the cold, shimmering containers on both sides of the aisle, exclaiming as he trotted forward: "By my mother's beard, I even saw the head of a Balor and a Planetar! Ryan, are you mages all this crazy and terrifying?"

"Only some of us," Ryan replied nonchalantly. With the capabilities of an ancient legendary Archmage, he was not surprised that a brutal Balor or a holy, noble Planetar had met such a fate; he only wondered which god's lackey had been so unlucky.

At the same time, Ryan asked himself if he, too, would eventually lose his sense of awe and his original heart as his power grew, becoming indifferent and cold to everything. After much self-reflection, the one thing Ryan was certain of was that he would never lose his human heart and emotions.

Jelona noticed that Ryan was in a foul mood. She shot a glare at the tactless Dwarf and clenched her fist, making a threatening gesture toward Kasla to warn him to watch his tongue.

Seeing this, Kasla reined himself in slightly, though he muttered in a voice loud enough for Jelona to hear about "forgetting friends for a crush" and "partners being no match for bedmates," which made Jelona's brows arch in a fit of rage as she glared at the Dwarf.

Ryan paid no mind to the antics of the trio behind him. His low mood was primarily due to his concerns about the journey ahead, but having stepped into this unknown ancient ruin, he was destined not to give up easily.

When Ryan reached the most prominent spot in the center of the laboratory—a protruding steel platform—a cold, emotionless mechanical voice rang in everyone's ears: "Beep. Target meeting inheritance requirements detected. First round of trials initiated. Please complete the assigned tasks within the allotted time."

In this eerie, desolate, and cavernous laboratory, the group felt this cold, mechanical voice become strangely intimate. However, after hearing the content, Jelona and the others turned their eyes toward Ryan, who stood in the center.

Ryan stared at the text that had appeared with the sound, his brow furrowing as he realized this would not be simple.