I stared at the homunculus that supposedly held his lover's soul.
Suspended inside a transparent, cylindrical tank, she floated with a stillness that made her look more like a beautiful, handcrafted doll than a living being.
Yet she was alive — breathing faintly, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, eyelashes trembling ever so slightly in the liquid.
Carefully, I stepped between scattered notes, shattered equipnt, and the countless traps he'd left behind. I made sure not to touch anything I didn't understand — which was almost everything.
Up close, she looked even more human. Too human.
There was an old saying about the soul:
When a person dies, one part ascends to the heavens, while the other sinks into the earth.
A split soul.
A divided afterlife.
Simply put — the part that ascends carries no mories. No past. No sense of self.
And what he had retrieved, after abandoning everything he believed in…
…was not her.
She had her face. Her voice. Her soul.
But no mories in her mind.
No experiences in her body.
No trace of emotion in her eyes when she looked at him — just empty reflection, like she was seeing the world for the first ti.
That was why he broke.
Why he fell into despair.
Why he eventually took his own life.
I let out a long, tired breath.
"That friend of mine… why did he add such a dramatic, over-the-top setting to a disposable dungeon? Seriously, what kind of lunatic does that?"
This entire hidden room, this whole tragic subplot — none of it existed in the original story.
In the novel, Arcadia ca here, grabbed the rewards, fought the boss, and left.
No secret room.
No homunculus.
No tragic love story.
So why did he write it in the world-setting notes?
Why bury sothing like this in the background and never use it?
"…What were you thinking, you idiot?"
I would've understood if this room contained sothing ant for Ryen's to find later—sothing like the Oath Of Saint.
But it wasn't that.
Nothing about this felt like a destined encounter out of a story.
As I stepped past each trap—easily, almost lazily—the homunculus girl watched with an expression that didn't belong on sothing artificial.
A flicker of surprise.
A faint tremble of uncertainty.
…She wasn't just a construct.
Even without mories, she was a person—a being with a soul.
She wasn't emotionless. She wasn't empty.
How long had she endured in this hidden room, alone?
How many hours—days—had she spent staring into the dark, understanding the structure of the place only through the knowledge forced into her mind, and clinging to fragnts of mories that weren't fully hers?
She had only ever t one human in her entire life.
Her creator.
Her beginning.
Her whole world.
For a brief mont he had given her joy—and then he broke.
His joy crumbled into despair.
That despair curdled into anger.
And that anger hollowed out everything inside him until even his life disappeared from her world.
To her… what aning did I have?
, the second human she had ever seen?
The settings book never said.
It never described what she felt—or could feel.
But I could guess.
It wouldn't be simple.
It wouldn't be shallow.
As I finally reached her, she abruptly stopped speaking.
Her lips parted slightly, as if she had forgotten whatever line had been implanted into her.
Her gaze trembled—not with programd behavior, but sothing that looked painfully, unmistakably human.
I reached out and picked up the bottle—
not the tube she was trapped in, but the one sitting beside it.
-…?
"Ah, wait. Let grab a few things first," I said, glancing at her. "If I rescue you now, this entire place will collapse."
-Ah… yes. That's true. No, I understand.
She said she understood, but the faint twitch in her voice made it obvious she was holding back her frustration.
I could only shrug internally—there were things here I needed, and once the chamber fell apart, they'd be lost forever.
When I uncorked the bottle, a sweet, faintly floral scent drifted out into the air.
The Elixir.
The supre potion capable of saving anyone who hadn't completely died yet, capable of healing even the worst inner wounds as if they were nothing.
It wasn't rely a rare treasure—it was a miracle born from one man's desperate wish to save the woman he loved.
This wasn't just an elixir.
It was his final prayer.
I tilted the bottle to my lips and drank.
The liquid slid smoothly down my throat, warm and almost velvety, blossoming inside my body like light spreading through dark water.
I swallowed quickly, making sure the potion's dicinal strength didn't evaporate before it could take effect.
A quiet heat began to pulse through my veins.
Until now, I had been forcibly dragging this terrible body along, pushing it through training and guiding its recovery step by step.
But that didn't an it had ever truly healed.
My physique—twisted from the overuse of innate qi when I was young—remained stubbornly damaged. Even with Enhancent and constant training, the improvents had always been minor… superficial at best.
But things would be different from now on.
My heart pounded as the faint heat of anticipation spread through my chest.
The mont the liquid slid down my throat, it began working—its dicinal properties blooming instantly, like a tide washing through every corner of my body.
If it were just a normal elixir, it would rely correct my distorted physique and fix the illnesses and lingering injuries I'd carried for years.
But this potion wasn't ordinary.
This was the supre masterpiece crafted by a genius—created for the sole purpose of keeping his lover in perfect condition, no matter the circumstances. It didn't just heal. It rebuilt.
A cool, refreshing sensation spread through , sharp but indescribably pleasant—like every misaligned bone in my body was being reset into place at once.
[You have consud an elixir created with heaven-sent talent.]
[All impurities in your body are removed.]
[Mana control speed increases.]
[All physical abnormalities are healed.]
"Oh."
I raised my fist and lightly extended it, just to test.
It moved effortlessly.
No heaviness. No strain.
It was light—lighter than even the mont I had regained my innate qi.
"Then next…"
I reached toward the jewelry box on the other side and carefully lifted the
Everdusk Stone.
The real one.
A flawless stone filled only with pure wishes—nothing like the cursed imitation the Twelve Signs had deceived Alice Draken with in the original story.
Holding it in my hand, feeling the faint hum of power within it, I finally let out a slow breath.
With this…
I had everything I needed.
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