Chapter 148: His Final Mask

Gideon just revealed the existence of the Silencer.

The Academy understood the threat perfectly.

Elector Mordecai possessed a weapon capable of erasing the magic from the stones and killing the foundation.

Raziel pulled the heavy bronze map from his tunic and set it on the wooden table.

The third marker blinked with a steady light.

It pointed straight down to Level -6. It pointed right into the Founder’s room.

He needed to secure the third Forbidden Gift to fortify the building against the Inquisition.

But getting there presented a massive logistical nightmare.

Marius painted a high-grade tracking seal on the ground floor to catch anyone walking around after curfew.

If Raziel triggered it, the director would send the armed guards down to the basement.

Even if they bypassed Marius, Lithos stomped around Level -5.

The colossal stone guardian absorbed human souls and destroyed anything in its path.

Raziel crossed his arms and stared at the bronze blueprint.

“We are trapped,” Lucian stated and leaned over the table.

“We cannot go up and we cannot go down.”

Zorya pulled a thick stack of translation notes from her canvas bag.

She spread the parchment out next to the metal map and pointed her finger at a faded geometric line on her drawing.

“We can go down,” Zorya corrected him.

“St. Celeste has a dormant hydraulic system. The builders of the Primordial Pantheon used these vertical tunnels to move liquid mana between the deep levels.”

Raziel looked at the line. “Does it bypass Level -5?”

“It connects Level -1 straight to Level -6,” Zorya answered.

“The shaft drops straight down behind the main walls. It avoids the tracking seal and it avoids the guardian.”

“Where is the entrance?” Raziel asked.

Zorya walked over to the darkest corner of the workshop.

She crouched down and brushed a thick layer of dust and dirt away from the stone floor.

“Right here,” Zorya said.

“But the tunnel took heavy structural damage over five centuries. The walls are cracked. If we climb down without support, the stone will collapse and bury us alive.”

“I can reinforce the stone with Architectural Inscription,” Raziel offered.

Zorya shook her head.

“You do not know the local syntax for that specific shaft. If you push your energy into the wrong anchor point, you will trigger a cave-in. You need me to read the patterns and guide your mana.”

Raziel analyzed the plan.

It required two Inscriptors working in total darkness while hanging over a bottomless pit.

Raziel and Zorya grabbed two lit oil lamps.

They grabbed the heavy iron grate and pulled it upward.

GRIND.

The rusted metal protested against the stone, but they shoved it aside.

Lucian and Gideon stayed behind to guard the workshop door and monitor the hallway.

Raziel stepped into the dark hole first.

He grabbed the rusted metal rungs bolted into the side of the shaft and started climbing down. Zorya followed right above him.

The air inside the tunnel tasted damp and smelled of wet earth.

The space was incredibly narrow.

Raziel felt the cold stone pressing against his back with every step downward.

The rough rust from the iron rungs bit into the skin of his palms.

They descended past Level -2 and Level -3 in silence.

Zorya stopped on a rusted rung and held her oil lamp close to the wet stone wall.

“Look at this,” Zorya whispered.

Raziel climbed down a few inches and stopped right next to her.

He looked at the brickwork illuminated by the yellow flame.

The runes carved into this section of the shaft did not glow with silver light.

They consisted of deep and crude grooves cut directly into the bedrock of the world.

They predated the temple and they predated the gods.

Zorya reached out and traced the crude marks with her fingers.

She showed absolute reverence for the dead language.

“They built the academy on top of the temple,” Zorya explained. “But the temple was built on top of the earth’s original memory. These runes represent the raw foundation of Phaedra.”

A loud noise echoed through the shaft.

CRACK.

A chunk of stone broke loose just inches below Zorya’s boot.

Dirt poured out of the fresh wound in the wall.

The tunnel started to give way under their combined weight.

“The anchor is failing on the left side!” Zorya shouted.

She pointed at a specific cluster of crude runes. “Reinforce the geometric cross!”

Raziel grabbed the iron rung with his left hand and pressed his right palm against the crumbling rock.

He channeled his Umbral Paragon core and pushed the energy into the stone.

He used Architectural Inscription to rewrite the structural integrity of the wall.

“Too much pressure!” Zorya warned. “Shift the mana flow to the lower arch!”

Raziel adjusted his output and followed her exact verbal commands.

He wove his dark energy through the ancient syntax.

Zorya read the invisible current of the building and Raziel provided the raw muscle to fix the damage.

They worked in perfect synchronization.

The stone stopped cracking and the wall stabilized.

They continued their descent into the dark.

They reached a section where the tunnel tightened even further. They had to squeeze their shoulders past the jagged rocks to keep moving down.

Zorya stopped climbing and rested her forehead against the cold wall. She needed a moment to catch her breath.

“Raziel,” Zorya called out in the dark.

“I am here.”

“When all of this ends.” Zorya paused to find the words. “If it ever ends. What will you do?”

Nobody ever asked Raziel that question before.

Lucian asked for tactical plans.

Lara asked about his emotional state.

The System demanded progression.

Nobody ever asked him about a future beyond the apocalypse.

“I have not thought about it,” Raziel answered.

“Liar.”

Raziel looked up at her in the dim light of the oil lamp.

He possessed a shattered soul and a ticking clock.

“I want the runes to be free,” Zorya stated to break the silence. “I want anyone to learn them. Not just the Church.”

Raziel listened to the dripping water echo in the shaft.

“I want the same thing,” Zorya continued. “And I want to take the suppression seal off my arm.”

“When?” Raziel asked.

“When I know the world waking up around me is a world where they will not punish me for existing.”

Zorya started climbing down again and Raziel followed her.

They reached the bottom of the shaft twenty minutes later.

They stepped off the rusted rungs and stood on solid and dry stone. A heavy wooden door sat set into the rock face ahead of them.

Raziel pushed the wood open.

They stepped into Level -6 and entered the Founder’s room.

It was tiny.

It possessed the exact dimensions of a solitary confinement cell.

A simple wooden chair sat in the center of the room facing a small wooden desk.

A dry inkwell and a brittle feather quill rested on the desk.

They sat there untouched for five hundred years.

There were no glowing silver runes on the walls.

There were no magical artifacts or heavy grimoires.

A single message was carved deep into the stone wall above the desk.

The words did not use ancient runic syntax or complex geometric codes.

The Founder wrote the message in common language to ensure anyone who reached this room could read it without translation.

Raziel held up his oil lamp and read the carved letters.

I built this academy over the ruins of the Nine to protect what they left behind. The Church arrived and turned my sanctuary into a cage, I could not stop them, only hide the keys.

If you found this room, you have already mastered two Gifts. The third Gift is not here. The third Gift rests in the person standing next to you.

Raziel stopped reading and his chest tightened.

Bond Forging is not learned inside a chamber or during a crisis. It is learned by choosing to trust someone with your complete truth.

Can you do that? Can you be completely honest with someone in a world that punishes honesty with death?

If you can, the third Gift is yours.

If you cannot, walk out of this room and do not return until you are ready.

Raziel finished the message. He lowered the oil lamp.

He turned his head and looked at Zorya.

She looked back at him.

She was the person accompanying him.

She was the girl who trusted him to hold the stone walls together in the dark, who rolled up her sleeve and showed him her deepest scars.

[REQUIREMENT FOR BOND FORGING: COMPLETE DISCLOSURE]

[WARNING: REVEALING THE SYSTEM AND THE TIME LOOP CARRIES EXTREME PSYCHOLOGICAL RISK TO THE LISTENER.]

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep