The Secret of the Mist Ruins

Mana condensation?

Rhode was genuinely surprised. He had played Summon Swordsman for seven years and seen all kinds of strange situations, but never anything this bizarre.

Mana condensation referred to a phenomenon in which a summoned spirit that had worked in harmony with its wielder and been used for a long time would "nurture" something during its evolution. In game terms, because it evolved too quickly, excess mana would condense inside it and eventually take the form of a mana condensation—in other words, equipment.

Players had a simpler way of putting it: after evolving, a summoned spirit with a high affinity for its summoner would give them a surprise... That was all.

But it was hardly something to envy. For one thing, the equipment summoned spirits gave was usually low-level. For another, it was an illusory creation that only its summoner could use. If discarded, it would vanish into thin air. It couldn't be sold or given away, so it was only half useful.

Rhode wasn't surprised that a summoned spirit had produced a mana condensation. After all, the Holy Sword had been with him all this time. What surprised him was this: wasn't the Holy Sword supposed to be equipment?

Generally speaking, only living beings with their own will could produce mana condensations, right?

What was going on?

The Holy Sword wasn't a living being.

Rhode only froze for a moment, though, and the system notification hadn't asked him to confirm anything. It had merely informed him that something had happened, and that was all. The golden text soon faded from before his eyes and disappeared. The card that had been floating in his palm also vanished into thin air.

Lize and Mace exchanged a glance, but neither said anything. Even now, they weren't quite sure who Rhode was or what his identity might be. He looked like a swordsman, but apart from his swordsmanship, nothing he did seemed to fit that profession. Still, neither of them asked. As an adventurer, Lize knew that many swordsmen had unique powers and inheritances of their own. Mace, meanwhile, was all the more convinced that Rhode was probably the heir to some ancient family. Only they possessed such extraordinary powers.

Though he noticed their gaze, Rhode didn't bother to explain. As a guild leader, he knew it was best to say little and do little unless necessary. The online players could wage incredibly fierce flame wars; one wrong word, one wrong expression, and they could seize on it and make a huge issue of it. Especially later, after Rhode built the number-one guild, he became a target, and many enemies twisted his every word and action to suit their purposes. The more you explained, the more openings you gave them. Better to say nothing and let them misunderstand. He simply put away the card and began sorting through the other items.

Mages were all quite wealthy.

In the church, Lize and Mace had found more than just the statue that controlled the gargoyles. There was also a small pile of gemstones and some crystals that had lost their mana, all of which Rhode kept. As an alchemist on the side, he could still put them to some use.

What surprised Rhode was the diary Lize found on the desk. It recorded the mage's life after he had arrived in this town.

This piqued Rhode's interest. As a player, he knew the ins and outs of the entire Mist Ruins dungeon, but this was his first time seeing things from an NPC's perspective.

Most of the diary had become illegible, but a few entries remained:

Year of the Saint, fifth day of the Month of Thunder

I succeeded. After countless innocent lives were sacrificed, I finally saw her silhouette clearly. She smiled at me from the center of the magic circle, wearing the same gentle smile she had in life. I was so overcome with emotion that I could barely contain myself. I called her name, but she couldn't hear me. The spell is incomplete, but now I have hope. My theory was right!

Year of the Saint, fifteenth day of the Month of Thunder

Praise the Holy Soul! I finally have her back. I have gained power enough to withstand anything! I brought her departed soul back to my side. She saw me! I can touch her and feel her warm body. She held me and softly called my name. In that moment, I felt everything I had done was worth it. Ah... My beloved Sheena is still as gentle, beautiful, and considerate as she was when she was alive.

I was conflicted, but in the end I decided to confess to her. I told her what I had done, but Sheena forgave me. Just like before, she smiled and forgave me. In that moment, life seemed so beautiful. Even the sunlight outside looked so bright. I've made up my mind. I'll leave here with her, and we'll live like ordinary people. I'll never meddle in this forbidden magic again, nor will I cast spells. We'll move to a quiet mountain village, get married, have children, and die like ordinary people.

I don't know if I still deserve such happiness, but I'll do my best to earn it. May the Holy Soul bless me.

Year of the Saint, third day of the Month of Blasphemy

Something isn't right.

That isn't Sheena. I can feel it. She looks exactly as I remember her, but I can feel it. That isn't her. I told her my plans, but she only smiled and said yes, that she agreed. This is strange. She was a clever girl, but she had a mind of her own, too. She would never simply agree with everything I said.

I have my doubts. Did something go wrong with the spell?

Why does she believe everything I say so completely?

I need to conduct another experiment to find out if I'm right. May the Holy Soul protect me. I hope I'm wrong.

Year of the Saint, fourth day of the Month of Blasphemy

Holy Soul above, why did this happen!

That isn't Sheena! It's a monster wearing Sheena's face! I told her I would kill people for her—old men, children, women. I don't need just one woman. I want more women at my side. If this were really her, she would never agree. But to my astonishment, she simply sat quietly on the bed, smiling as she listened to everything I said, then gently told me yes.

Impossible! This isn't her! This isn't the person I remember! What is it? What is it? What is it? (The writing begins to grow erratic.)

Year of the Saint, ninth day of the Month of Blasphemy

May the Holy Soul forgive my ignorance.

Perhaps this is my punishment for breaking the Holy Law. I tried to reverse life and death, to bring back a soul that had already passed away. But I failed, and this is my punishment. That thing isn't Sheena. It has no self at all. It's an empty shell, a monster that instinctively reflects and probes the images buried deep in other people's minds in order to survive. I wanted to kill it, but I can't anymore. It drained all my strength... I'm going to die. I no longer have the power to stop it.

Perhaps this is for the best... Sheena, since you can't come to me, let me seek you in the eternal River of Eternal Darkness...

May the Holy Soul accept my sinful soul...

The diary ended there. The rest of the pages were blank. Rhode closed it and shook his head. It seemed the mage really was the lovesick fool the rumors had made him out to be... But if he'd chosen to kill himself sooner, so many people probably wouldn't have died. Still...

A faint sense of something being off flickered through Rhode's mind. Before he could grasp it, it was gone.

Something seemed wrong...

Rhode furrowed his brows and thought it over for a long while, but ultimately came up with nothing. He soon put it out of his mind, closed his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

It was just a small interlude. The three of them rested in the abandoned church for the night, then set off again the next day, heading deeper into the mist.

Swish!

A dazzling flash of white swept past, followed by the Wraith's wailing form fading away.

Compared to before, the evolved Star Trace was even more beautiful. Exquisite, hollow patterns were carved into its immaculate white blade, and its snow-white wings, previously folded together, had spread slightly. A silver-white strand spiraled out from between them, forming a hand guard around the hilt. At a glance, it looked less like a weapon than a work of art. It had no place on a battlefield; a museum or a treasure vault seemed a far more fitting home for it.

"What a truly extraordinary masterpiece."

Looking at the longsword in Rhode's hand, shimmering with a faint glow, Mace couldn't help but praise it.

"Forgive my frankness, Mr. Rhode, but I've been in the trading business for many years, and I've never seen such a beautiful weapon..."

At this, Mace narrowed his little eyes.

"I wonder if you..."

Rhode waved his hand, not to answer Mace's question but to keep his gaze fixed ahead. Then he replied in a low voice,

"We're almost there."

"Huh?"

Hearing that, Mace and Lize hurriedly looked up and followed Rhode's gaze. Before long, they saw a weed-choked square. On the far side, two huge, dilapidated wooden gates appeared and disappeared beneath the mist.

"Once we pass through that gate, we'll reach Aragak Pass, and then we can head down the mountain."

As he said this, Rhode let out a sigh of relief. Ever since waking up in this world, he'd been under constant strain. Adventuring was fun for players, but when you were seriously injured and under pressure, even a player couldn't enjoy it.

Besides, this wasn't a game. He couldn't log off halfway through to smoke, drink, or play mahjong.

But first, they still had one more obstacle to overcome.

Rhode furrowed his brows and carefully studied the thick mist ahead. He waved a hand, signaling the two behind him to stay alert.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Rhode?"

Seeing Rhode's signal, Lize quickly caught on. She took a few small steps toward him and asked in a low voice.

"Careful. The battle isn't over. We still haven't dealt with the most troublesome boss."

"Boss?"

"Uh... I mean, monster."

Rhode shook his head. He was so used to giving orders in the game that he couldn't break the habit right away. But this clearly wasn't the time to worry about such a minor thing. He took a deep breath, then turned to look at them both.

"Do you know how the Mist Ruins came to be?"

At Rhode's question, they both froze, then shook their heads.

"This used to be a prosperous town, but after the Wind Tide Channel opened, it gradually became deserted. After that, a mage came here. He conducted forbidden magical experiments in an attempt to bring back his dead lover. In the end, he failed."

At this, Rhode paused and looked toward the mist-shrouded town around them.

"And after that, the town became what it is now."

"Then, Mr. Rhode, what's this monster you mentioned...?"

Mace furrowed his brows. He'd thought the two gargoyles they'd faced earlier were the most terrifying monsters here. Was there something even worse?

"Shadow Phantom."

The word Rhode spoke sounded ordinary enough, but its eerie tone sent a chill down both their spines.

"It was born from the mage's final failed experiment. It's the most terrifying monster here. If we're not careful, every one of us will die."

"Is it very powerful, Mr. Rhode?"

Though Lize was puzzled about how Rhode knew all this, the immediate question was clearly more important to her. To her surprise, Rhode shook his head.

"Honestly, it isn't that strong. Its defense against physical attacks is weak, about the same as an ordinary Wraith."

"Then..."

Lize was confused by Rhode's explanation. If it was about the same, why did he say it was so dangerous?

"Because the Shadow Phantom has a special ability."

Rhode hesitated, but finally decided to tell them.

"It probes your heart, then takes on the familiar appearance of someone you know. If you can't wake up from the nightmare it creates in time and hold on to your convictions, you're as good as dead."

As he said this, Rhode didn't sound entirely certain. In the game, this boss didn't appear until the whole adventuring party had entered the area. It took the form of the players and muddled their judgment. At first, it was an extremely troublesome boss, and many teams were wiped out here. But people always found a way. Before long, players figured out how to deal with it. After fighting it several times, they realized that the Wraith wasn't very strong, and that aside from copying the players themselves, it had no particularly dangerous abilities. In other words, if only one player entered the area, it could only copy that player. A one-on-one fight was, of course, easy enough for most players. Once the Wraith's aura of mystery had been stripped away, it became a training dummy for players practicing solo boss fights... Its fate was undeniably tragic.

But...

Why did it feel as though something didn't add up?

Rhode furrowed his brows. Deep inside, he vaguely sensed a voice telling him that things weren't so simple, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

"Anyway, leave it to me."

The mist grew thicker and thicker.

Even the radiance of sacred power couldn't easily pierce this sea of clouds.

Rhode stopped.

He could feel the worried gaze of the girl behind him, but this was the most efficient approach. It was also the only one.

Swish!

A white blade appeared out of thin air. The mist stirred at its appearance, then quickly settled again. It spiraled around Rhode, keeping everything else at bay.

The air grew damp and heavy.

It was coming.

Rhode braced himself. He unconsciously flexed his fingers, and the cool touch of the Ring of Will on his index finger calmed him somewhat. He knew his opponent well, from its abilities and attributes to its fighting methods and attack range. He didn't think this would be difficult...

Perhaps that wasn't true.

A figure slowly emerged from the mist. With its appearance, the air around them seemed to grow even more turbulent. The swirling mist reflected its wavering silhouette, making it look especially eerie. A faint fragrance drifted through the air, mingled with a strange odor.

The smell of disinfectant.

Rhode furrowed his brows. The scent seemed familiar, but before he could think more about it, the mist ahead suddenly parted, revealing what lay within.

The instant Rhode saw the figure, he stood frozen in place. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the silhouette before him. His mind went blank, and he couldn't say a word. Memories long buried burst forth in that moment, reverberating violently deep within his heart.