Chapter 106: The Temple of Hephaestus

Tear—

With the sound of something being ripped open, the world itself was cleaved by a shocking wound.

Then, something fell through the breach.

“Thud.”

From a height of several meters, the impact shook the marble floor; a foreign entity from beyond the world had finally crashed to the earth, stirring up thick clouds of dust.

As if its mission had been fulfilled, the rift linking the inner and outer sides of the world gradually sealed itself, smoothing over until not a trace remained upon this realm.

Time passed slowly.

Like a forsaken place forgotten by the world, the outside clamor was utterly irrelevant here. Everything was so serene and tranquil, until—an object from beyond the world—more precisely, a ragged youth with blood-crusted knuckles on his index finger—twitched slightly.

This marked the beginning of Amy Ulysses’ awakening.

His not-so-long eyelashes blinked instinctively. Battling a fierce dizziness, the boy struggled to open his eyes. His pitch-black pupils were as profound as the abyssal darkness said to dwell in the depths of the deepest night, swallowing all light. Within them shone the vast, boundless void of the cosmos.

Merely gazing into them was enough to overwhelm the soul, to make one feel infinitesimally small—undeniably, something non-human dwelled within the mortal flesh of this Radiant.

No, to describe or define such an incomprehensible and unfathomable magnificent existence with such broad and narrow concepts was nothing but arrogance and foolishness.

But none of this concerned the boy.

The miniature universe within his dark pupils vanished in an instant. As he regained consciousness, the young Radiant nearly succumbed again to the physical pain.

Pain, pain, pain!

Every tendon ached weakly, every bone throbbed faintly, and even his brain operated sluggishly, as if caught in a whirlwind spun dozens of times by Mia. Vertigo, nausea, revulsion—all these discomforts compounded to nearly break a person’s will.

So the boy remained silent, enduring what felt like endless torment.

What had happened earlier?

More than the physical discomfort, Amy was troubled by the gaps in his memory—he had no idea what had transpired. The last thing he recalled was a pure white world suddenly devoured by cold, profound darkness.

What followed?

He did not know.

How had he been transported here?

He did not know.

His mind felt like a lump of mush. Except for relatively clear memories related to Ignatius, everything afterward was a blank slate, as if erased cleanly by an invisible hand, leaving no trace.

Had he fallen unconscious right after that? Or had he lost those memories for some other reason? Amy couldn’t be sure, but what he did know was that his appearance in this place was abnormal.

Not for anything else—this was the Temple of Hephaestus.

A temple dedicated to the sacred flame.

The Baroque-style architecture, the vast, lofty, and simple spatial design evoked grandeur and holiness. The boy’s gaze lingered briefly on the seemingly unreachable dome and the majestic pillars supporting heaven and earth before shaking his head. Though he had never entered this temple revered as supreme, descriptions of it were not uncommon in various tomes. Coupled with its unique architecture within Hemtica, it was hard to mistake.

If this was coincidence, it was an extraordinary one.

The sacred flame—

The remnants burned out by the ancestors.

Ignatius’ words echoed in his mind like a spell. Suddenly, he desired to delve deeper into the Temple of Hephaestus, to glimpse the true nature of the sacred flame. But Amy was never one to act on whimsy. The thought was promptly extinguished. The truth about the sacred flame and the ancestors was indeed important, but right now, what mattered more was informing Duke Golsworthy and other powerholders about the catastrophe he had glimpsed.

Frankly, only the Order and the Radiants stood a chance of preventing that monster’s revival.

So priorities had to be clear.

The Order would probably need to make a personal visit as well. The unexpected separation from Mia had basically doomed prior plans. Unable to confirm Mia’s current situation, the boy dared not gamble Hemtica’s future on mere possibilities. If action was to be taken, it had to be done thoroughly and as best as he could.

As time passed, the pain gradually lessened. After a while, Amy managed to try standing, though his body was still uncooperative. At least basic mobility was assured; next was to act.

Perhaps the Upper District was now rife with peril due to the war with the Chaos Cult.

But at least Hephaestus should still be safe… hopefully.

The boy thought this as he took steps forward. The Temple of Hephaestus was vast and spacious. Without much concealment, his footsteps echoed emptily on the broad avenue.

It felt… too quiet?

He stopped instinctively, raising an eyebrow.

As the sacred place for the flame, though no family sent their strongest Radiants to guard it, none of the temple’s Radiant guardians were mediocre. The High Priest Edgar Golsworthy was among the strongest in Hemtica. Coupled with a certain symbiotic bond with the sacred flame, even if multiple dark lords of chaos attacked, no one could breach this supreme temple that bore Hemtica’s hope and future.

Was he overthinking?

Perhaps.

Amy, noncommittal, raised his alertness to the highest level. More than any possibly true or false intelligence, he trusted his instincts. Caution could never be wrong.

Thus—

His breathing steadied, footsteps ceased.

Like a cat, the boy moved silently along the path. He had no intention of leaving yet. Though he didn’t plan to ignite the sacred flame, he intended to seek an audience with Edgar—the High Priest who could never leave the temple in his lifetime, surely privy to Hemtica’s many secrets. Perhaps he knew something about the horrifying abomination Amy had glimpsed, as dreadful as chaos incarnate.

If this noble figure, somewhat transcending Hemtica’s worldly system, explained the situation, even the city lord would not hinder him, no matter any grievances.

Still, a nagging unease lingered. After all—even if unbound by worldly family concepts—the name Golsworthy after that person’s surname meant the same blood flowed within, no different from the Duke’s.

He hoped everything would go smoothly.

Logically, someone in such a position would not act rashly. Emotionally, Amy’s heart was still gripped by strong insecurity. Even knowing irrational fear only hindered his mission, sometimes inner weakness could not be overcome quickly by will alone, and Amy Ulysses was no exception.

But unlike most, the boy’s purposefulness was intense, matched by resolute action. No matter how strong the fear, he suppressed it and moved forward according to plan.

Yet, even so, his next step faltered.

Of course—

Squinting his eyes slightly, Amy cautiously withdrew the half-placed foot, inching carefully toward the wall. From the corner of an archway, he peeked out, scrutinizing the world beyond.

Blood flowed recklessly across the marble floor. Over a dozen corpses lay sprawled in disarray. Judging from the drawn weapons, there had been some resistance, but the circular hall beyond the arch, stained red with blood and bodies, showed no signs of battle.

In other words… the resistance ended in an instant.

They were all dead.

Not even a proper fight had erupted. Over ten Radiants, among the best even in the Upper District, had quietly perished within the Temple of Hephaestus. In peaceful times, this might have sparked upheaval throughout the Upper District. But amidst the endless war stretching back through the ages, their deaths were but insignificant ripples beneath the ocean’s surface, barely stirring any waves.

That was history’s grand perspective. Different eyes held different views. At this moment, Amy Ulysses did not dwell on such lofty ideas. What he felt was only a deep chill—the trouble was immense, undeniable from any angle.

Even ignoring the long term, just the immediate fact that a force, group, or individual capable of wiping out over a dozen Radiants in one strike posed a grave threat to him. Though his abilities had leapt forward, confident enough to face the rumored dark lords who could threaten entire cities’ Radiant factions, his current battered state forbade such combat. Not only would fighting cause secondary injuries, but even vigorous movement risked further harm. Encountering those terrifying enemies, even with a death omen, would likely mean certain death.

Looking farther ahead revealed an even more terrifying truth—the Temple of Hephaestus was the sacred ground of the Radiant descendants, a holy site beyond the existing power structure. In the Upper District, only the Chaos Cult dared provoke it. As an ancient organization intertwined with the Radiants for millennia, how could they not know the temple’s formidable defenses? How could they not have devised countermeasures?

In other words, the enemy came fully prepared.

Likely deploying multiple dark lords, and possessing terrifying entities capable of matching the power of an entire city—enough to make even Ignatius show astonishment upon hearing their names—such foes were probably among the invaders.

Because only such power could threaten the sacred flame.

Indeed—

The sacred flame.

Beyond this, the boy could not conceive what else in the Temple of Hephaestus warranted the Chaos Cult’s massive mobilization, even pulling their absolute front-line forces into this campaign.

So, what choice remained?

Amy Ulysses narrowed his eyes; fate had branched into two intersecting, straight paths before him.

Perhaps one led to glory, the other to ruin. Yet more likely, no matter which path he took, hope would remain unseen, and at the end awaited only despairing... equal destruction.

So, the Radiant raised his head.

Then strode forward boldly.