Chapter 140: Sir Byron’s Great Adventure—and a New Visitor

The ancient ruins lay dormant in the darkness. Millennia had failed to erode the sturdy man-made structures, yet the human presence that once filled these halls had long since vanished. A cold, damp air clung to the weathered corridors and empty chambers—neither alive nor dead, just lingering in a timeless stillness.

This eerie atmosphere persisted until outsiders broke the silence.

The glow from magical crystals lit their path as the fully armed Cecil combat squad, led by Sir Byron, cautiously advanced deeper into the ruins. Every step was measured, every sense alert, as if expecting monsters to leap from the shadows—though so far, the largest creatures they’d encountered were nothing more than a few scurrying rats.

Byron led the way, with a soldier behind him carrying an oil lamp. Though the lamp’s light was negligible compared to the bright magic crystals, its true purpose was to warn of low oxygen or the presence of dark, unclean forces.

Following Duke Gawain’s orders, they had ventured into this ancient mountain stronghold. Now on their second day inside, the scenery remained unchanged: vast, orderly corridors and empty rooms stretching endlessly. The architecture was complex at first glance, but after some exploration, a pattern emerged—this place wasn’t designed to confuse or trap intruders.

No matter how dull the surroundings, Byron diligently mapped every corridor and marked each room.

The crystals’ light spilled into another deep chamber. They reached the end of what they’d tentatively labeled “Third Corridor.” The soldiers moved in a guarded formation, confirming the room was safe before setting up a watch at the entrance. They planned a brief rest here.

Exploring dark ruins was exhausting—not so much physically, but mentally taxing. Though these soldiers were seasoned veterans with iron wills, they still needed to rest to keep going.

After ensuring no immediate threats, they camped in a corner, placing magic crystals around for light. They pulled out rations and water, quickly replenishing their strength. Byron sat beside one of the crystals, studying the map by its glow.

The hand-drawn map marked the areas they’d explored so far. Thanks to the orderly layout, it was straightforward and easy to read. The three-dimensional structure posed some challenges, but drawing each floor separately solved that problem—a skill Byron, a former mercenary, was well accustomed to.

“Sir, this floor seems empty,” an old soldier remarked. “Anything useful has already been taken.”

“Valuable things are usually deeper inside,” Byron replied, pointing to a spot on the map. “According to the pattern, this should be the grand staircase leading down. We’ll head there next.”

“Understood.”

Byron’s attention returned to the map, but his eyes casually flicked to the oil lamp nearby. The bright flame flickered gently in a faint breeze.

Wait… breeze?

Where could wind come from inside a sealed mountain ruin? The ventilation shafts wouldn’t create such a strong current.

Byron’s mercenary instincts kicked in. He closed the map, moistened a finger with saliva, and carefully tested the air—there was definitely airflow.

“There’s a draft here,” he warned. “Light a few more lamps and spread out to search. This room must have more than one exit.”

The soldiers sprang into action, probing for hidden doors or mechanisms. Soon, they found something unusual.

At the far end of the room, a rectangular recess in the wall resembled a doorway. Nearby lay a pile of rotted debris—weathered wooden frames and rusted metal scraps, remnants of ancient dismantled equipment.

In the dim light, such wall indentations and debris were common throughout the ruins, so the soldiers hadn’t paid them much mind. But this spot was different—it was the source of the airflow, clearly connected to the outside.

Byron ordered the debris cleared away, revealing a metal cylinder embedded halfway into the wall. Less than half a meter in diameter and standing vertically, its exposed surface was covered in intricate patterns. The upper half slanted downward, clearly not meant as a shelf.

“What is this?” a soldier asked nervously. “Could it be a trap?”

“No,” Byron shook his head, recalling Duke Gawain’s briefing. “According to him, objects like this usually serve a purpose…”

He placed his hand on the slanted metal surface—but nothing happened.

Byron showed no embarrassment. “Of course, most of this stuff is broken after all these years. That’s to be expected.”

One soldier joked loudly, “Sir, why don’t you try without your gloves?”

Byron’s face didn’t redden. He shot the soldier a glare. “Why don’t you try then?”

The soldier didn’t hesitate. He removed his gloves and mimicked Byron’s gesture, placing his bare hand on the slanted surface.

Suddenly, the intricate patterns on the metal glowed faintly. A subtle vibration hummed from within. The soldier’s eyes widened in surprise as a distorted, mechanical voice echoed from the device: “Detection… sample tester… stable phase… access granted. Isolation door opening…”

With creaks and groans, the wall’s recess slid inward, revealing a hidden passageway!

Everyone stared in stunned silence.

“I—I didn’t do anything,” the soldier stammered, pulling back his hand, looking flustered. “You all saw it.”

Byron glanced down the dark corridor beyond the door, then removed his own gloves and placed his hand on the metal again.

The device lit up once more, and the same mechanical voice announced, “Detection… sample tester… stable phase… access granted. Isolation door is open.”

“Me too?” Byron blinked in disbelief, then frowned and pointed at another soldier. “You try it.”

The soldier followed suit, and the device responded identically.

So apparently, anyone who touched it passed the test.

“Probably broken,” Byron sighed with relief after testing two more soldiers. “It’s ancient tech, after all.”

One soldier cautiously asked, “Sir, should we… go inside?”

“Let’s take a look,” Byron said, still cautious but secretly thrilled. As a former mercenary who’d explored countless ruins across the southern lands without a single mishap, he could smell something valuable ahead. “After all this time, we finally found something!”

…

While Byron’s group delved deeper into the mountain ruins, a new visitor arrived at the Cecil family’s newly claimed territory.

She was a graceful young woman, dressed in a flowing gown unlike anything from Ansu style. Her long hair cascaded down her back, and a pale violet veil concealed her face, leaving only bright, lively eyes visible. Boldly, she walked through the soldiers’ posts and the gates of the camp—which had grown into a small town—wandering among neat wooden houses.

The townsfolk bustled about, yet none paid her any mind.

The veiled woman strolled openly, her eyes filled with curiosity as she took in the town that was barely a few months old. The orderly wooden houses were already respectable by local standards—most common folk in this era lived in far worse conditions—but these buildings were clearly “transitional.” Along the main street, many houses were being torn down and rebuilt with solid brick foundations and tiled roofs, signaling the town’s next phase of development.

A strange noise drifted from nearby. Following the sound, the woman found herself at a dusty workshop. She pushed open the door without hesitation—and was stunned by what she saw.

This was the brick kiln. Under a rain shelter in the yard stood two strange machines. One pulsed with clear magical energy, spinning under the power of arcane mechanisms. Its strong rotating shaft drove the second machine, which pressed raw clay and sand into neat, solid bricks. These two machines worked with astonishing efficiency and required no complex controls. Only two peasants in rough homespun clothes stood watch, while others hurriedly loaded the freshly formed bricks onto carts, hauling them to a row of massive kilns several times larger than ordinary ones.

What were these huge magical devices?

Magical constructs? But where was the mage controlling them? Who infused them with power? Who regulated their speed and operation?

Could it really be those two ordinary people with no magical aura at all?

Come to think of it… magic seemed to permeate this entire area. How strange. Could this whole territory be built atop a magical nexus?

The veiled woman furrowed her delicate brows. She wanted to dismantle those machines to see how they worked, but such a bold move would surely fail even the most skilled stealth or mental suggestion. So, reluctantly, she shook her head, stepped out, and closed the door behind her.

Just then, a lively voice called out from behind her, sounding oddly familiar: “Ah! Who are you?!”

(End of chapter)