When Greg played the original game, he had naturally seen this enormous, broken stone pillar too. Back then, however, he had viewed the Dungeon as nothing more than an efficient place to farm experience. He had paid no attention to environmental details, even dismissing them as background scenery the developers had thrown in out of laziness.
But now, standing before this ancient pillar in person, and knowing about Outer Gods such as the Fallen Mother and the Broken Mother, Greg suddenly realized that the Dungeon buried deep beneath the Academy might conceal a dark history and secrets far deeper than anything the game had shown.
What kind of people... had once lived here?
What upheavals had their civilization gone through to end up like this?
Questions surfaced one after another, beyond his control.
Unearthing these secrets and piecing together lost history held an irresistible appeal for any curious transmigrator.
But Greg soon shook his head, forcibly suppressing those tempting thoughts.
He had neither the strength to spare nor the qualifications to explore the truth of this world.
Simply surviving already demanded everything he had.
Besides, even if he poured all his effort into uncovering every tragedy, every act of faith and destruction that had occurred here centuries or millennia ago... what would that accomplish?
Time could not be turned back. History was already set.
It would be a futile exercise that satisfied his curiosity without bringing him any tangible benefit.
With his own survival still in question, investing precious time and energy in such things would undoubtedly be extremely unwise-even downright foolish.
His immediate priority was to grow stronger, then stay alive.
Everything else... could wait.
His resolve renewed, Greg drew his gaze away from the pillar and turned toward the deep, unexplored caverns of the Second Floor.
"Stop staring.