Chapter 36: Ancient Secrets

  "Out! This place is wrong—get back, now!" Vivian’s voice cracked like a whip through the narrow tunnel.

  The group didn't hesitate. They scrambled backward, boots skidding on the uneven stone as they burst out of the dark passage and back into the biting cold of the ruined house.

  Vivian remained at the rear, her golden eyes scanning the gloom one last time. As she retreated, her pupils constricted. She hadn't noticed it upon entry, but now, with the adrenaline sharp in her veins, the details stood out: the walls and floor were webbed with scorch marks and jagged fissures. These weren't the scars of time; they were the violent signatures of magical impact. And they were fresh.

  She hurried to Ronen’s side, crouching to check his pulse. Their eyes met for a fleeting second—a silent confirmation that he was still in one piece—before she whirled on Mark. Her gaze was predatory.

  "You’ve been in there before, haven't you?" she snarled. "You tried to blast that door open. The collapse of this house, the wounds on your body—it wasn't some accident. It was magical backlash."

  Mark didn't flinch. Instead, the madness in his eyes seemed to crystallize into a terrifying clarity. "The monster’s blood... it led here. This village, this tunnel, and whatever lies behind that door... it holds the secrets of the First Civilization! If I could just glimpse it... even a fragment! The Royal Mage Association would fall to their knees. My name would echo through the ages!"

  "So," Vivian’s voice dropped to a low, icy whisper, each word a frozen shard. "You did use magic on the stone door, didn't you?"

  "Of course!" Mark nearly shrieked, his voice cracking. "Such a treasure was right in front of me! How could I not try to open it?" He paused, his tone shifting to a hollow, regretful rasp. "But the ancient seals... they are not moved by common sorcery."

  Vivian’s fist tightened until her knuckles turned white. She stopped acknowledging Mark entirely, turning instead toward Village Head Lei Fei. Her pace was slow, deliberate, carrying the weight of an approaching storm.

  "Mr. Lei Fei, I must apologize for my companion’s recklessness. The damage to this house will be compensated once our full team is reunited." Her tone shifted abruptly, turning sharp enough to draw blood. "But in return, I expect sincerity. Tell us everything you know. Now."

  "I have told you all I can," the old man replied, his face as unmoving as a tombstone.

  Vivian stared deep into his eyes, then let out a soft, weary sigh. "If that is the case... then forgive me."

  A flash of cold steel. A short dagger appeared at Lei Fei’s throat, the blade pressing firmly against the weathered skin, drawing a thin, crimson line.

  "We are all trapped here. Our only hope is to work together. Every clue is a potential lifeline." Her voice was light, almost a caress, yet it carried the lethal chill of a sharpened icicle. "Your silence, in my eyes, is a death sentence for us all."

  She pushed the blade a fraction deeper. A single bead of blood began to crawl down the old man's neck.

  "If you were an enemy, I would show no mercy. If you continue to hide the truth... then I have no choice but to treat you as one."

  Lei Fei remained silent for a long time, the only sound the whistling wind through the rafters. Finally, he let out a heavy, defeated sigh and nodded. There was no anger in his expression, only a grim resignation, as if he had expected this moment since the day they arrived. He stepped back, gently pushing Vivian’s dagger away.

  Vivian didn't press the attack. She sheathed the weapon with a fluid motion.

  Lei Fei touched the shallow cut on his neck, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Do you... do you know the origin of Dragonwood Village?"

  Ronen had managed to steady himself by now. The urge to open the secret door still thrummed in his chest, but it was no longer a searing heat; he had forced it beneath the surface of his reason. He realized that understanding the village might be the only key to surviving what lay behind that stone.

  "We only know it was named for its proximity to the Dragon Ridge Mountains and its timber," Ronen rasped.

  "It is natural you know so little," Lei Fei said, his gaze drifting toward the horizon, as if looking through the blizzard and into the distant past. "Dragonwood... is a settlement of the Primordials."

  "I guessed as much from the names," Ronen noted.

  "It’s not uncommon," Vivian added quietly. "Many Primordial clusters choose the imperial borders to live in peace."

  "True. But this village was here before the Empire," Lei Fei said, a sudden hardness in his voice. "Before the War of the Cinders, before the so-called 'Age of Expansion'... our ancestors had already taken root here."

  He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was a low rumble. "They were enslaved by the Demon Race. Driven here like cattle to be used as sacrifices."

  "How long ago that was, I cannot say. We only have the stories passed down through generations." Lei Fei lowered his eyes. "You know that after the Great Calamity, humanity was powerless against the monsters. And because of humanity's former strength and the betrayal that followed the outbreak, the Demons have hated us ever since."

  "Those who were captured lived like livestock. Fed just enough to survive, discarded the moment they fell ill... our ancestors were those slaves. The Demon Lord who ruled them was obsessed with ancient power. His mages found a ritual circle deep in the northern wastes—one capable of summoning a god."

  Lei Fei looked north, his eyes seemingly piercing through the stone walls and the mountains to reach that eternal cold.

  "Wait!" Ronen interrupted. "Summoning a god?" He narrowed his eyes, remembering the words of the merchant back in Glory City. Lapsus's projects are always related to 'Gods'.

  "I do not know if it was truly a god. I only know what my father told me."

  Ronen’s pulse quickened. "Go on."

  "The ritual required living sacrifices," Lei Fei continued. "Our ancestors were chosen. They followed the mages north, into a desolation where even the wind seemed to freeze. Perhaps the journey exhausted the guards, or perhaps they grew arrogant as the ritual neared... but at the final moment, our ancestors saw their chance."

  He slowed his speech, emphasizing each word. "They turned on the guards. They slaughtered the mages. They broke the ritual entirely."

  "But to kill a master was a death sentence. They couldn't go back. So, they decided to stay here, at the edge of the wastes, and build a life." Lei Fei looked at the outsiders, truly seeing them for the first time. "This was the beginning of Dragonwood."

  "And the secret room?" Ronen pressed. "How does it connect to this?"

  Lei Fei’s gaze returned to the dark tunnel, his voice a mix of reverence and dread. "The ritual was interrupted, but it had already begun. The 'God' had already turned its gaze toward this world."

  He paused, the silence heavy. "I do not know what they sought to summon, but my ancestors believed it was something that should never walk this earth. They sealed away the mages' texts and established a law: every generation must choose a Priest to guard the seal and watch over the sleeping ritual."

  He looked at them, his eyes as dark as twilight. "I only know that the things in that room are related to the seal. Beyond that, I am ignorant. I am not the Priest. According to ancestral law, only the Priest can open that door. Only the Priest... can step into that secret."

  "Where is the Priest now?" Vivian asked immediately.

  "The Priest of this generation is dead," Lei Fei said solemnly. "In years past, she would lead the ceremonies to appease the ancient entity. But since her passing, the rituals have stopped. I thought the silence meant the 'God' had forgotten us." He gave a bitter smile. "It seems that was merely wishful thinking."

  "No successor?" Vivian frowned. "A village with such history doesn't just let a tradition die."

  Lei Fei gestured toward the window. "Look at this village."

  Beyond the glass were crumbling houses and white-haired villagers moving like ghosts.

  "Once..." Lei Fei’s voice drifted. "This village was vibrant. It was glorious. Back when humanity was still enslaved, Dragonwood was a sanctuary. The Demons rarely came this far north, and the Frostwood provided plenty. Primordials traveled thousands of miles just to find a home here."

  A faint light flickered in his eyes, a memory of old hearth-fires. "Back then, the Priest held more power than the Village Head. Entire families were dedicated to the rituals, learning the stars, the runes, and the prayers. They believed they were guarding something heavier than human life."

  The light died.

  "Then the 'Returners' came. Humanity built cities in the east. Fertile lands, eternal spring. The young left, one by one, like leaves in autumn. The village emptied, the altars grew cold, and the families scattered. Now, only we old bones remain." He looked toward the grey silhouette of the Frostwood. "If it weren't for the timber we send to Glory City, Dragonwood would have vanished long ago."

  His voice dropped to a whisper. "The village is dying, and with it, the traditions, the memories, and the contracts between gods and men. I do not know how the knowledge was passed. I only know that when the last Priest died, she took the secrets with her. The ancient lineage... ended with her."