---

Silence continued. The people sitting around the table were stunned, their eyes wide open, as a sudden, continent-scale question was thrown at them.

Only Sophia, unfazed by Setanta’s question, wore a troubled expression. With a bitter smile, she retorted, “Why would you ask such a thing?”

The term “fate of the continent” could be interpreted in various ways. It could refer to the political, diplomatic, military, and economic directions of the continent, or it could signify ideological and cultural changes spanning eras. Conversely, it might also pertain to natural disasters like floods, droughts, earthquakes, and plagues.

Of course, what Setanta meant was entirely different.

“Hmm, perhaps I phrased it poorly. Let me rephrase: What do you think will become of humanity’s fate in the future?”

“Ugh, you’re asking such a difficult question.”

Setanta’s more specific question made Sophia groan. She knew of his profound insight and wisdom, but she hadn’t expected him to pierce so directly into the heart of the matter.

“Do you think I don’t know? The light of the stars in the night sky has changed. Their trajectories are different from previous years. The flow of the dragon veins beneath the earth also carries an urgent, indescribable energy.”

{Indeed, he has reached an extraordinary level as a druid. Few spellcasters in the Bronze Age could read the signs as he does. It’s almost strange that I can’t sense the contracted spirit.}

‘Even among dragons?’

{How dare you compare mere two-legged apes to the noble dragon race! …But it’s true. Shameful as it is, if dragons had such insight, the end of the Bronze Age might have been different.}

Sophia listened intently as the spirit Drayg-Haegis, who shared a similar cultural background, marveled at Setanta’s druidic insight.

“The sky and earth are both voicing their concerns. How could the creatures living between them remain silent? Countless birds and insects come and go through this forest, carried by the wind. Seeds mixed with dust are brought here by storms or cling to the fur of beasts. And I am a druid.”

Sophia sighed softly. It seemed this grand druid already had a rough picture of the urgent situation the world was facing.

The signs in the sky and the omens of the earth, though vague, hinted at a broad trend. The information gleaned from birds, insects, and plant seeds, though fragmentary, could still form pieces of the larger puzzle.

By combining these opposing pieces of information, the druid had managed to grasp a rough clue, even if it wasn’t precise or detailed.

“Moreover, wasn’t there a rather troublesome incident not long ago? That evil surge of power that erupted from the Arden direction. With Ogma’s Oak Tree dormant, Kali and I had quite a struggle protecting the forest’s life and the spell waves from that power.”

――You must have some idea about the incident where that power erupted, right?

Without hiding his implication, Setanta’s sharp gaze turned to Sophia.

She had to admit it. This man, relying solely on his own insight, had approached the truth of the incident without any external help.

‘Then, it would only be proper to tell him the truth as a sign of respect for his great insight.’

After all, she had come to them with a request. It wasn’t as if she could hide the situation when she had come seeking their help. Finally, Sophia took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Before I get to the conclusion, I need to explain how this all started and how it unfolded. Will you listen?”

“Please.”

With Setanta’s prompt response, Sophia slowly began to unravel the story.

The existence of the great demon in Arden, the subsequent evil surge of power that swept the continent, the discussions at the Council of Toriento, the Holy City of Ravenna, the transmission of the Immovable King Wisdom Technique at Strabenher in the Lowlands, the turmoil in the empire, the machinations of demons, and finally, Omphalos.

“They were after that!?”

At the mention of Omphalos, Setanta’s face twisted in shock and confusion.

“How on earth did they know it was there?”

“That’s not the important part, Setanta. So, is Omphalos safe?”

Kaliastra, trying to calm the flustered Setanta, asked with a trembling voice. The news had clearly been a shock to her as well.

Those who wield spells inevitably come to understand the structure of the world. While martial artists perceive the world through their senses, spellcasters expand their horizons by thoroughly reasoning and observing phenomena.

Through this relentless pursuit of knowledge, their understanding eventually reaches the fundamental principles of the world’s composition. The domains, the origin of all concepts and components of the world, the spell waves that permeate the world, and the spellcasters’ power that interferes with these waves.

And above all, the eternal cycle of the beginning and end of eras.

Naturally, spellcasters who reach a certain level can infer the existence of Omphalos. Specifically, it refers to a certain constant connected to the world’s lifespan and structure, though it is merely called Omphalos.

However, high-level spellcasters do not seek out Omphalos for two simple reasons.

First, while its existence can be inferred and verified, there is no way to determine its specific form or nature. Second, even if Omphalos were found, it would be of little use to spellcasters.

Setanta and Kaliastra, who had also inferred the existence of Omphalos, knew nothing about its appearance, material, power, or location.

This was why Setanta had been so baffled earlier, asking, “How on earth did they find it?”

Moreover, what spellcasters ultimately seek is not knowledge itself, but the refinement of their souls and the elevation of their realms through knowledge.

If a spellcaster were to obtain Omphalos and find a way to interfere with it, they might instantly gain near-omniscient knowledge. However, that would only be momentary knowledge, not guaranteeing continuous growth. In fact, knowing too much might close off future paths of growth.

Thus, among spellcasters, who value the awareness of not knowing over superficial knowledge, “omniscience” is not an attractive option.

Given that Omphalos is difficult to find and offers little benefit (from a spellcaster’s perspective), there is no reason for spellcasters to waste time and effort on it.

However, for those interested in what Omphalos can do, the story changes.

Specifically, for those who wish to access Omphalos and alter the world.

Naturally, high-level spellcasters who can infer Omphalos’ existence also consider its dangers. Thus, they refrain from disclosing its existence and insist on not revealing what they know to others.

Some have actively sought to find and hide Omphalos, but the efficiency of such solitary searches is low. Involving others risks unforeseen situations, making it difficult to clean up afterward. Thus, many such efforts quietly fade away.

While one might call them complacent, they believe they have chosen the best possible course of action.

But who could have imagined it would lead to such a monumental event?

“Why on earth are the demons after it?”

Setanta, scratching his head in frustration, asked.

Even though Omphalos is connected to the world’s structure, it is merely a peg that defines the world’s form and fixes the veil of the present world. It is not some omnipotent wish-granting device. Given that demons already possess long lifespans and great power, it was baffling why they would go to such lengths to obtain it.

“They want to reclaim their rightful destiny.”

Sophia, recalling the words of a four-armed, four-legged demon with a lion’s head that had fallen in battle, answered. Setanta’s expression darkened at her words.

“Destiny? You don’t mean their goal is…!”

“Your guess is probably correct.”

Setanta’s hope that his speculation was wrong was dashed by Sophia’s merciless words. The grand druid erupted in anger.

“Even if they are parentless demons, are they out of their minds!? They sold their own destiny and now regret it, so they want it back? Are they saying they’ll cut down Omphalos’ lifespan to fulfill their petty desires, hastening the world’s end!?”

The end of each era is due to Omphalos reaching the end of its lifespan. Naturally, if any object is altered beyond its original structure and purpose, its lifespan will inevitably shorten. This is true for Omphalos as well.

This is a law shared among high-level spellcasters who have inferred Omphalos’ existence.

“We must stop them.”

Kaliastra, a grand alchemist who had also inferred Omphalos’ existence, knew this fact better than anyone.

“Frankly, I have no interest in whether they reclaim their lost destiny or not. But if they choose Omphalos as their means, we must stop them.”

“As Kali said, the demons regaining their destiny… From humanity’s perspective, it’s a big deal, but from the world’s perspective, it’s not that significant. However, hastening the world’s end is a different matter. Frankly, we can’t even guess how much the end might be hastened if they succeed.”

It’s possible they might achieve their goal with minimal cost, but it’s equally possible that the end could be imminent the moment they act. If we fail to stop them and the Iron Age comes to an end, how could we ever live with the regret?

How much of Omphalos’ lifespan would be consumed to allow those who have abandoned their place in the world and become servants of outer gods to be accepted back as part of the world’s fabric?

Brantley Somz, who understood their reactions better than anyone, had been equally shocked when he first learned that the demons were after Omphalos, and that it was located in Vienna.

Fortunately, they had repelled the demons who attacked to seize it and had secretly and meticulously secured Omphalos to prevent further threats. But if even one thing had gone wrong, what would have happened? Just thinking about it sent shivers down his spine.

The problem was, while Omphalos’ main body could be hidden in Vienna, the means to access it were not limited to the main body alone.

Just as spiritual veins flow through the earth and celestial bodies move across the sky, Omphalos also had various terminals scattered across the world, each with different forms and properties.

Some might be simple ore, others ancient trees, temple pillars, foundation stones, or even a village well.

With access to the main body blocked, the demons could easily target these terminals. And it was unlikely they would give up on accessing the main body.

But while Brantley sympathized most with Setanta and Kaliastra, it was Conra and Maria who reacted most sensitively to their words.

“Ugh…”

The moment the words “the end is hastened” were spoken, Conra and Maria, who had been quietly listening, turned pale. Their faces drained of color, and they unconsciously clenched their fists, their knuckles turning white.

In their minds flashed the final experience in the Sky Dungeon of Plymouth.

The refuge built to escape the end of the ancient Bronze Age, collapsing as the delayed end rushed toward completion. The scene was undeniably terrifying and hollow.

No great civilization, no proud history, could withstand the end. They crumbled like mirages in a desert, leaving behind only dungeons as records. In the face of this unchanging truth, the will and life of a single person seemed so small and futile.

Though Conra had used the divine sword Catena to cut through the flood of the end and protect those who entered the dungeon, he still couldn’t forget the trembling and fear of that time.

‘How did Jack O’Lantern overcome such fear and attempt to complete the end himself?’

The question lingered in his mind like a stain, answered by his contracted spirit, Rugus-Artaeus.

{I don’t know. I wish I did. In the era of the end within my memories, he was the only one who dismantled all the devices delaying the end and forced its completion. Even as the world became a hell due to the delayed end. Anyone who claims to understand such a man is a liar. The end is that terrifying.}

‘Is the end a fearful memory even for spirits of the old era?’

{Yes. Even for spirits of the old era.}

Hearing the spirit’s resolute answer, Conra couldn’t help but agree. Even he, who had only experienced a fragment of the end within the dungeon, had been overwhelmed by boundless anxiety and despair. How much more so for those who had lived through it?

The sight of the veil maintaining the world failing and seeping into the earth, while the concept of the end surged from beyond the veil to paint the heavens and earth, was hardly a hopeful one.

‘If Omphalos’ lifespan runs out and the world’s end is truly hastened…’

Then it would undoubtedly be the worst possible outcome for the living beings of this world.

‘We must stop it!’

It was only natural that Conra and Maria, feeling this urgency, resolved to prevent the hastening of the end.

Suddenly, Conra’s attention turned to the divine spear on his back and the divine sword at his waist.

Both the spear and the sword were treasures obtained through extraordinary fates, far beyond what a single person should possess. It struck him that such items wouldn’t be granted to him without reason.

‘Perhaps the reason these were given to me is…’

For this very purpose? Just as that thought began to take root in Conra’s mind.

“Stop being so presumptuous.”

The rebuke from his mentor, the nun knight, struck the boy like a blow.

“Ugh!”

Half startled that his thoughts had been exposed, and half frustrated that his sense of mission had been dismissed, Conra swallowed hard. Sophia, with a cool and composed demeanor, looked down at her disciple and calmly continued.

“Do you think just because you’ve gained some opportunities, you’re some invincible hero destined to bear the world’s fate?”

“I never said that, Master.”

“Do you think I can’t tell what’s going on in that little head of yours? You’re still a child, yet you’re already burdening yourself with responsibilities and missions you’re not ready for. Where did you pick up such a bad habit? I certainly never taught you that.”

As Sophia spoke, her gaze flicked toward Setanta and Kaliastra, who both looked indignant, as if to say, “Why are you looking at us?”

“I never taught him that either.”

“Oh my, what a coincidence. I didn’t teach him that either…”

“I see.”

Sophia then turned her gaze back to Conra.

“Taking responsibility for one’s actions and fulfilling one’s mission—or task—in life is what makes an adult. But that only applies to those who are ready for it. Demanding such things from children is something only fools do.”

Her stern gaze softened, warming as she spoke.

“Think about it. Were the opportunities given to you meant only for a single, immediate task? To me, you’re still far from being a vessel worthy of those opportunities. You have a long way to go.”

Though her words seemed harsh, there was an underlying message.

‘So, don’t worry about responsibilities or missions. Instead, diligently learn and enjoy your childhood to the fullest.’

Realizing this, Conra, and Maria, who had been watching the exchange, turned their gazes to Sophia.

Even in the midst of discussing a grave issue connected to the world’s end, she remained calm and detached, her relaxed demeanor bringing a sense of comfort to the boy and girl.

This wasn’t unique to Sophia. The gazes of the others around the table also conveyed a sense of reassurance. Karl, as always, exuded the confidence of a master swordsman, his presence as solid as a rock. Brantley Somz, the court poet, sipped tea with a noble grace, his lips curling into a soft smile.

Conra’s parents, Setanta and Kaliastra, though resolute in the face of the world’s crisis, showed no signs of fear.

These were true adults, individuals of deep inner cultivation and experience.

Simply meeting their gazes filled Conra with an immeasurable sense of security. It was then that he realized his mistake.

 

---