After morning had arrived, everyone awoke from sleep. The maid had come to rouse them for a communal breakfast with the king, his minister, and several ordinary ministers. When they awoke, the meal was already laid out on the table, awaiting them. The atmosphere was hushed, and they ate without uttering a single word.
Once everyone had finished eating, the maids came to clear the table. Oran then stirred and said to Ethan, "No need to hurry—we can continue our conversation. You have nothing pressing to do now, right?"
Ethan replied, "Yes, sir; we have plenty of free time."
"Very well," Ethan continued. "You and your friends may remain seated."
After Oran took his seat, he asked, "I have a question for you, Ethan: the weapons you use—could anyone else fight with them?" Lawrence's face twisted with cunning and malice as he listened.
Oran answered confidently, "No. No one but the original owner can wield these weapons; they will not work for anyone else. At best, someone might fight with one as an ordinary weapon—simply by drawing on their own skill, without its energy."
All present were surprised by this revelation—everyone except Oran's own group. Lawrence's expression darkened further. Ethan looked thoughtful, then asked, "So that's how it is. But is there a mechanism behind this, Oran?"
Oran nodded. "Yes. Suppose I fall in battle against those demonic monsters: I alone would die, and the weapon would lose its master. If someone else tried to touch my spear afterward, the spear would judge whether they were worthy to wield it. If it does not recognize them as its master, the unfortunate person would instantly evaporate upon contact. It is not easy to make a weapon acknowledge you as its master. Do you understand, sir?"
Shock registered on the faces of Celine, Mona, and Lina al‑Din—they had never heard of this. Ethan nodded, "I understand now, Oran. Thank you for explaining."
Oran bowed his head, "It is my duty, sir. No thanks are needed."
Ethan then said, "Very well—you may depart if you wish." The group rose to leave, passing Ethan's watchful gaze as they exited the door. Oran lingered, bowed, and said, "May I have your leave?" Then he and his party left the castle. Once outside, Oran suggested, "Let us go to the place where I first awoke—where Theron and Celine found me."
---
As they departed the city, walking across sand dunes, Theron asked, "But Oran, why there? Do you suspect evidence lies in that place?"
Oran replied, "I have a feeling we will find something related to this portal there. At that time, it housed the oldest library in the Seven Regions—the Arcanium Library. I hope nothing befalls us on the way."
Ren interjected, "But you told us you sealed yourself when ten thousand monsters besieged you. How did that work? Did the monsters enter the library?"
Leon agreed, "Yes, explain exactly what happened, Oran."
Oran answered, "When they surrounded me, I managed to flee inside the library. There, I sealed myself within the Arcanium Library to awaken in this modern era."
Ren pressed, "But how can you seal yourself together with the library? It sounds strange. Why don't we know this sealing method, when all of us can wield these weapons?"
Oran smiled. "It is terribly complex. The sealing requires an unbreakable bond with your weapon. For example, I understand my spear's feelings without it speaking—I might say we share the same emotions."
Leon leapt up, "Emotions? How so?"
Oran continued, "Yes—we share the same emotions. You could do the same if you learned how your swords feel when you fight with them. As for the sealing: I had already synchronized my feelings with my spear when I stabbed my chest until all my blood flowed out. My spear drew in that blood, and I planted my sword into the ground. Then my spear released all that blood into the earth at once, causing it to quake. In that moment, the spear perfectly grasped what I meant: that I wanted to seal the library with me. And so the library and I were buried together in ancient sands—beyond the reach of those ten thousand monsters. Even if they continued to dig, they would soon grow weary of the chase."
Ren asked in amazement, "But how did you survive after stabbing yourself in the chest?"
Oran smiled, "You may not believe it, but I felt no pain, nor any sense of dying. The bond with my spear ensured it could never harm me. Do you see?"
He added, "The one who first devised this sealing method—its inventor—was known as the Sky Sword."
Everyone gasped at the depth of information they had never known. Ren, softly and with a smile, said, "The Sky Sword… so you truly are a remarkable person."
---
Some time later, the golden sun beat down fiercely upon the sands. Ren and his friends from the Green Plains began to sweat profusely—they had only been in the Western Desert for three days and were unaccustomed to such searing heat.
Oran halted and ordered a break for lunch. Theron and Celine pitched the tent while the others panted under the heat. Once the tent was up, they sat in a circle on mats inside, and Celine prepared their meal outside. The faces of those from the Green Plains were flushed bright red. They lay on their backs on the mats, but the sand beneath was so hot that the mats themselves radiated heat back at them. Resigned, they sat up again—there was nothing to do but endure until this hot spell passed.
Celine entered the tent carrying the pot and called, "The food is ready—shall we eat?"
Ren replied, "Yes, please, Celine; we can't bear this heat any longer. Let's eat quickly and resume our journey."
Celine busied herself alone—none of the other girls could help, too exhausted to move.
After eating, the group immediately broke camp. Theron packed the tent into his bag and Celine rolled up the mats.
As they continued, they saw a sandstorm forming and rushing toward them. Oran warned, "A storm is approaching—do not underestimate it." They wrapped old, yellowed scarves around their faces and used their left forearms to shield their eyes as they pressed on into the storm.
The wind howled fiercely; the girls were knocked backward by each gust, and the boys braced them. Deciding to protect the girls more effectively, the boys let them lead while they held back the worst of the wind. The gale felt like a solid wall pushing against them.
After some time, with the sun's heat finally waning, the group emerged from the sandstorm, panting from exertion. It was afternoon; sunset was drawing near. After a moment's rest, they pushed on. Ren urged, "Let's hurry—sunset is almost here, and who knows what dangers await. The demonic activity usually quiets at this hour, but we must not let our guard down. The third gate may be very close. Stay together."
Oran agreed: "You're right, Ren. It does feel strange. Let's keep moving." Dusk fell as they pressed on toward the Arcanium Library.
---
An hour passed, and the sun finally set. The group paused, staring up at a blood-red sky. Ren was the first to speak: "We have no time to waste—let's go." Yet as they moved forward, Ren heard a strange, continuous "hiss… hiss…" in the air.
Gazing down at the ground first, he saw shadows scattered all around, blotting out the crimson moonlight. Before he could look up, Aretha collapsed to the sand in terror, pointing skyward. Erinor rushed to her side. Ren cried out, "What I feared has come to pass—this is bad!" He drew his sword and formed a protective circle around the girls with the other boys.
From above, swarms of winged serpents—dragon-like, their scales as red as blood and slender horns atop their heads—descended like a tsunami. Though only slightly smaller than humans, their numbers blackened the sky. They breathed crimson fire and glowing green acid mist. Poison droplets hissed as they struck the golden sands. Oran warned them not to inhale the rising fumes. The girls knelt, scarves pressed over their faces, trembling.
Suddenly Celine screamed in pain. Ren darted to her and asked, "Are you all right?" Through gritted teeth, she managed a pained smile. "I'm fine, Ren—I just banged my arm on some metal from our gear." Ren grabbed her arm and saw acid had burned a large scar on her wrist. Fury flared in his eyes as he tightened his grip on his sword. Theron rushed to embrace his daughter tightly.
Ren unleashed a furious storm of lightning-charged strikes—fifty to seventy blows in an instant—cutting down many serpents. The others kept up their own relentless assault, and the serpents' ranks dwindled… but then another, even larger wave surged.
"Quickly—retreat! We must reach the library!" Oran shouted. They turned and ran at full speed, the winged serpents in swift pursuit.
At last, a flicker of hope: the library loomed before them. They sprinted the final steps to its door—only to be frozen in their tracks as if turned to stone. Terror gripped the girls, and they collapsed. Aretha wailed in despair, "We're done for!"
Ren, Leon, Erinor, and Oran stood speechless, horror in their eyes, cold sweat beading their brows.
From the swirling clouds, a colossal dragon king emerged—its bronze, blade‑like scales and twisted horns towering across the sky, wings edged like massive swords. Its eyes were deepest black with glowing red pupils like living rubies, its maw capable of cleaving mountains in two. Even the winged serpents cowered in fear.
Oran whispered, trembling, "Behold the Dragon King of Monsters, Raah! We must hide—"
But before he could finish, Raah unleashed a lightning blast. Boom! The Arcanium Library shattered into ruin.
Oran, his sentence cut short, stared in disbelief as the very ground w
here he had sealed himself—and the library—collapsed into a tomb of stone and sand.