Chapter 685

685.

“Look! Leo’s group has returned!”

“Lower the gates!”

Just outside the defensive perimeter.

Spotting Leo’s company approaching the deep moat, the fighters of Ibaldi sprang into action.

“Did you discover anything unusual out there?”

In response to the inquiry from Rahden, the beastman overseeing the defense lines, Leo shook his head negatively.

“Nothing.”

“Hmph! It appears to be concealed remarkably well! Have you all not thoroughly scouted the entire perimeter by now?”

Rahden’s countenance grew grim.

“Our priority must be shattering the barrier quickly to summon reinforcements from Gadslon.”

“It will turn up shortly.”

Hearing Leo’s reassurance, Rahden gave a firm nod.

“You have done exhausting work through the night. Go and recover your strength, everyone.”

Their scouting missions took place under the cover of darkness, beneath the starlight and moon.

Ordinarily, the demonic inhabitants of Tartaros wield far greater strength after dusk.

However, this region currently marked the threshold separating the Age of Calamity and the contemporary realm.

Throughout the daylight hours, the firmament remained shrouded in a pale, ash-colored hue.

Beneath such a sky, the fiends grew significantly more formidable than they ever would under a normal nocturnal sky.

Consequently, it had proven far safer to sleep through the daytime and operate under the veil of night.

Following Leo’s advice, the aspiring heroes and combatants dispersed toward their respective shelters.

Just as Leo found himself solitary and prepared to walk away, a voice called out.

“Student Leo.”

Artian walked over, his expression laden with gravity.

“I wish to discuss a matter regarding the gateway.”

Observing the cautious manner in which Artian introduced the subject, Leo spoke up.

“You believe the access point is located somewhere within these very walls, don’t you?”

“I should have known you would anticipate my thoughts, Student Leo.”

Artian offered an acknowledging nod.

Because Artian’s primary focus was Heroology, giving him vast erudition regarding the domain of legendary figures, his deductions perfectly mirrored Leo’s own.

“Even though the citizens of Ibaldi restored these shattered fortifications, an analysis of the fundamental design reveals it wasn’t engineered to withstand a conflict against Tartaros.”

“What purpose did it serve, then?”

“Its architecture indicates it was erected for tribal conflicts between distinct mortal races.”

Artian assembled the historical clues using his specialized intellect.

Deep within the regions touched by Tartaros, blinded by an extended era of tranquility, internal conflicts had ignited among the local populations.

Those initial sparks quickly erupted into an uncontrollable conflagration, drastically draining the defensive capabilities of the regional armies.

In the end, it followed the familiar tragic trajectory of falling to a massive offensive from Tartaros.

“The grand fortresses constructed here during those ancient multi-racial conflicts frequently incorporated subterranean mazes designed to prolong resistance during a siege.”

“Your knowledge is quite vast.”

“I have always possessed a deep passion for history.”

Since the discipline of Heroology is fundamentally rooted in chronicling heroic lineages, Artian maintained an exceptional grasp of global affairs.

“The gateway has to be situated in the furthest depths of the stronghold’s buried catacombs.”

Hearing Artian’s theory, Leo became deeply contemplative.

‘Spatial anomalies typically manifest within the most secluded chambers of a hero’s vault, do they not?’

Had such a phenomenon existed in the open terrain, someone would have run into it long ago.

This was the exact logic that led Artian to surmise the portal rested within the core of the underground labyrinth.

“I spoke with several of Ibaldi’s defenders a short while ago. They insisted they have never encountered any sort of maze beneath this stronghold.”

Leo’s gaze sharpened slightly.

“They are entirely oblivious to the subterranean passages?”

“Exactly. It has undoubtedly been concealed intentionally. That explains why the soldiers of Ibaldi are completely unaware of the gateway’s location.”

Artian tightened his grip, determination in his posture.

“We ought to begin hunting for the hidden entrance immediately—”

“There is no need.”

“Pardon?”

“We will take a two-day reprieve instead. Everyone has been pushing themselves to the limit over the last week and a half.”

“Are we… really going to pause?”

Though momentarily perplexed by Leo’s decision, Artian gave an accepting nod.

Despite the inherent dynamic of their academic roles, Leo held absolute command over Arhi’s group at present.

Furthermore, Artian recognized that Leo never acted without a profound underlying purpose.

He was also acutely aware that Leo vastly outmatched him in tactical prowess, combat efficiency, and battlefield experience.

‘An utterly enigmatic youth.’

“In that case, Student Leo, please ensure you get adequate rest as well.”

Artian offered a warm smile before turning away.

Leo quietly observed his departure before setting off on his own course.

He directed his steps toward the periphery of the defensive outpost.

His destination was the smithy belonging to Dweno.

As he drew nearer to the forge, an unnatural stillness hung over the area.

Normally, this hour would be filled with the rhythmic strike of Dweno’s hammer and the clamor of martial practice, yet an absolute silence reigned instead.

Leo reached the structure and gazed into the deserted forge.

The entire place felt utterly vacated, as though its occupants had vanished simultaneously.

Creak—

Pushing his way inside, Leo scanned the interior.

In a secluded corner of the facility, he made his way toward a personal chamber reserved exclusively for Dweno.

This particular room served as the vault for the armaments Dweno forged.

“…”

To a master craftsman, a specialized repository represents their most sacred collection.

Consequently, no uninvited guest should ever presume to cross its threshold.

Nevertheless, Leo unhesitatingly extended his arm toward the handle.

Rattle—

The entrance was firmly secured.

It was not held shut by a mere mechanical latch.

It was sealed through mystical incantations.

Beyond his prowess at the anvil, Dweno possessed formidable expertise as a high-ranking practitioner of magitech.

When it came to magical artifice and alchemical synthesis—excluding raw offensive sorcery—he completely eclipsed Kyle.

Had Kyle attempted to breach this specific seal, it would have required hours of meticulous effort, unless he chose to shatter it entirely.

Click, clack—

Yet, Leo effortlessly deciphered the underlying magical sequence and neutralized the mechanism.

The explanation for his immediate success in breaking Dweno’s spellcraft was simple.

Had their life spans advanced in parallel, he could never have matched such mastery.

However, Dweno’s temporal existence had been frozen, whereas Leo’s days continued to march forward.

Leo had accumulated a vast wealth of experience over that intervening period.

Creak—

Leo pushed the door open.

Peering into the inner chamber, his grip tightened around the frame.

As his eyes swept across the contents of the room, a voice suddenly echoed from the shadows behind him.

“When did you first realize?”

Leo spun around.

Dweno stood framed in the doorway of the smithy, a somber, self-deprecating grin on his face.

“You always possessed an infuriatingly sharp intuition regarding these things, Kyle.”

Leo studied Dweno silently for a beat before redirecting his attention to the small chamber.

Resting inside, the massive blade belonging to Arion and the ring of Luna vibrated with intense crackling lightning and a piercing, sub-zero aura.

They had been flawlessly mended, returning to their pristine, historical states.

Beside them lay Brave; the once-shattered artifact had been painstakingly pieced back together.

Naturally, Brave remained far from its true peak condition.

Nevertheless, given Dweno’s technical limitations during this current era, achieving such a level of restoration so rapidly should have been an impossible feat.

Leo pulled the door shut.

He shifted his stance to face Dweno directly.

“My doubts first took root the moment you put an end to Gimeon,” Leo stated in a composed tone.

“From that point on, the hypothesis that a hidden gateway resided somewhere within these borders transformed into an absolute conviction.”

Dweno was a veteran warrior who had spent countless years standing on the front lines protecting both Ibaldi and Gadslon.

“The man I remember would have mapped out every square inch of the stronghold he swore to guard.”

During his exhaustive inspections, he would have inevitably stumbled upon the subterranean maze.

Yet, the standard protectors of Ibaldi knew nothing of its existence.

This suggested that a single individual had purposefully concealed the buried passages.

Synthesizing these disparate clues, Leo came to the definitive realization that Dweno retained the memories of his past life.

“Any remaining doubts vanished the instant I unlocked this room.”

Leo gestured over his shoulder with his thumb toward the closed entrance.

“The magitech matrix you utilized to seal this vault—though you attempted to disguise it—matched the exact caliber of sorcery you possessed during our ultimate campaign. Furthermore, and most importantly…”

Leo’s gaze tightened.

“You were never the type of man to lock away your work.”

Historically, Dweno harbored no sentimental connection to the craft of blacksmithing itself.

By extension, he felt little personal possessiveness over the armaments he produced.

Throughout his entire life, only a single blade was deemed by him to be a true masterpiece, receiving its title after enduring the Age of Calamity.

The vast majority of named divine weapons received their monikers from those who swung them, rather than from Dweno himself.

That singular trait defined his entire philosophy.

Therefore, the mere act of securing this room indicated he was deliberately concealing something from view.

“…”

Dweno shut his eyes, exhaling a faint, self-deprecating chuckle.

“I knew it in the past, but your perception regarding such details remains incredibly sharp.”

“When exactly did your recollection return?”

“The future… No, the memories flooded back the very second I manifested in this time period.”

Dweno stared down at the palms of his hands.

“Everything came back with terrifying clarity. The destruction of Ibaldi, and how I subsequently allied with Arhi to begin our trek alongside our fellow warriors.”

A dark, painful shadow crossed his face.

“The assault on Gadslon by Gias… and even the recollection of you, Kyle, transporting those youths across the fabric of time from an era yet to come.”

Upon crossing over into this contemporary world, Dweno’s consciousness expanded to encompass his destiny.

“Does that mean your awareness now stretches even further ahead?”

“It is entirely due to Brave.”

“Brave?”

“The fractured remnants of Brave granted me a vision. I witnessed the final moments of Arion.”

Dweno’s eyes drifted past Leo, focusing on the hidden vault behind him.

His expression grew deeply somber.

Though the weapon was merely a reproduction, it managed to communicate the tragic end of its wielder back to the hands that had shaped it.

‘So that explains his reaction…’

Recalling the image of Dweno weeping silently while clutching the shattered pieces of Brave, Leo let out a long, heavy breath.

A fundamental difference separated Leo and Dweno.

Following the passing of Arion, Leo had been forced to watch his companions perish one after the other—first Dweno, then Luna, and ultimately Lysinas.

He bore the memory of each friend’s final breath.

‘Yet, I was granted a reincarnation.’

Awakening anew in this current age allowed him to mourn his fallen allies and honor their memory properly.

He witnessed the fruits born from their ultimate sacrifices and his own.

He allowed the acute agony to gradually mellow through the passage of years.

While the grief never truly vanished, he was no longer utterly consumed by the shadow of mortality.

Dweno, however, lacked that distance.

He carried the burden of knowing that he and everyone he loved were destined to fall.

Even with the knowledge that their deaths would secure the preservation of the world, witnessing the raw brutality of Arion’s passing via Brave’s shared consciousness inflicted a devastating psychic wound upon the blacksmith.

Breaking the heavy silence, Leo spoke.

“Dweno, you are fully aware of where the passage is located, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

Dweno met Leo’s gaze squarely.

“However, I refuse to disclose its location until my personal objective is accomplished.”

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish?”

“I want to grant the inhabitants of Ibaldi the sight of a fully redeemed world. A future where the morning sun breaks through the darkness.”

“…”

“I am acutely aware of what lies ahead for me, and what awaits them. I know that I am merely an echo of the past, and I realize this obstinacy defies all logic.”

Dweno’s features contorted with profound sorrow.

“Yet, in the original history, they perished in total darkness without ever catching a glimmer of salvation.”

This represented the very event Dweno viewed as his ultimate failure—a hidden chapter of his history and his most agonizing remorse that Leo had never been privy to.

The populace of Ibaldi had been completely wiped out in agony, cut off from any prospect of deliverance, perishing amidst tears and hopeless cries.

“I simply wish to lead them toward that brighter future, even if it is only a fleeting glimpse. Surely…”

Dweno bit down hard on his lower lip.

“Surely a modest desire like that isn’t too much to ask for?”