I was able to conduct the sermon just fine through the clone. Its movents were perfectly composed, and its voice carried the sa calm authority as mine.
As the sermon reached its climax, the clone raised a hand and declared, “My believers, the Creator’s gaze is upon you. Each act of faith strengthens His light. Do not despair, for your devotion will soon bear fruit.”
A hushed awe spread through the crowd. Many of the followers clasped their hands, their bodies trembling with fervent belief. The atmosphere swelled with reverence, so thick it almost beca tangible in the air.
Then, just as the words faded, cracks of light began to spread across the construct’s form. Its outline flickered, fragnting like glass under strain, before dissolving into motes of golden dust that drifted away into the air.
The construct has lost energy and dissipated.
Unfortunately, the clone couldn’t last longer than a minute. Yet, rather than question what they had seen, the followers instead fell to their knees, overco with reverence. They believed they had just witnessed a divine miracle, the Creator’s very manifestation vanishing back to the heavens.
Satisfied with the result, I left the place and made my way straight toward the Rift of Dungeons. It didn’t take long before I arrived at the plaza where the three Rifts stood side by side. By now, this area had been unofficially dubbed “Rift Square” by divine warriors.
The square was bustling with people. Groups of divine warriors lined up before the Rift of Scenarios to get their turn. Many at the side were shouting to form up temporary parties or arguing heatedly over loot distribution. However, I wasn’t here to join them and simply walked toward the left most alcove where the Rift of Dungeons was.
Unlike the Rift of Scenarios, there was no Elysia stationed here to supervise. The Rift of Dungeons was entirely self-regulated; anyone could enter whatever dungeon they wished, regardless of rank. So, a Bet-rank divine warrior could enter a dungeon for Daleth-rank divine warriors. Of course, entering a dungeon far above one’s level was as good as signing a death warrant. Only the overconfident or the foolish ever tried such a thing.
As I approached within a few ters of the alcove, a System ssage popped up before .
Please select the dungeon that you want to enter:
Ashen Caverns — Difficulty: F (Recomnded Level: 10 )Howling Graveyard — Difficulty: E (Recomnded Level: 20 )Mystic Forest — Difficulty: E (Recomnded Level: 40 )Ruined Catacombs — Difficulty: D (Recomnded Level: 50 )Great Wilderness — Difficulty: D (Recomnded Level: 60 )
…
There were at least twenty dungeons listed here. Naturally, I selected the fifth option—the Great Wilderness. The mont I confird my choice, the text expanded into a detailed description as the System confird my choice.
Great Wilderness
A vast, untad expanse located in a pocket dinsion beyond Fantasia’s boundaries, filled with ancient beasts, forgotten ruins, and scattered tribes of primitive races. The terrain swings from swamps to arid plains and scorching badlands, housing monsters of varying danger levels. Those who venture deep enough may uncover remnants of civilizations long lost—or die trying.
Difficulty:D (Recomnded Level: 60 )
Ti Ratio: 3:1
Note: This place is deadly for Bet-rank divine warriors and below.
Do you wish to open a portal to the Great Wilderness?
[Yes/No]
When I selected “Yes,” a swirling portal ford within the alcove, twisting like liquid energy drawn into a vortex. Unlike the dark violet hue of the Rift of Scenarios, this one was a deep bluish color—serene yet vast, as though it led into an endless sky. Without hesitation, I stepped forward and entered the dungeon.
“Hmm? I’ve been followed…” I muttered, noticing several gazes fixed on just as I was about to step through the portal. Even after arriving in the Great Wilderness, I realized I wasn’t alone; several divine warriors were already scattered across the area, hunting beasts or looting fallen ones.
It wasn’t uncommon to encounter other divine warriors inside a dungeon. However, most were usually too occupied with the weekly compulsory scenarios to waste ti hunting here. After all, unlike scenarios, any wounds or injuries sustained within dungeons wouldn’t magically heal upon returning to Fantasia.
But there was another, far greater risk to worry about. Inside the Rift of Dungeons, the usual safety rules didn’t apply. Once a divine warrior ventured more than a hundred ters away from the portal, the System lifted all penalties related to divine warrior-on-divine warrior combat. In other words, killing another divine warrior beyond that boundary carried no punishnt or soul coin deduction.
This was the other unspoken truth about the Rift of Dungeons: Monsters weren’t always the deadliest things lurking inside.
In haste, I activated Fast Equip, and the cursed coat instantly draped over my shoulders before my presence disappeared entirely. I slipped away without the divine warriors even realizing I’d been there. True to my hunch, once I was a few hundred ters out, I glanced back and spotted several figures erging from the portal above the platform. They scanned the area with sharp, coordinated movents—clearly a well-trained group. Judging from their appearance, they were all Giml-rank divine warriors, likely part of an organized guild or faction.
Being alone, I must’ve looked like an easy target to them. Whether they knew who I was or were simply after prey didn’t matter.
Ignoring them, I sprinted ahead. I had no interest in wasting ti dealing with small fry, even if I could crush them with only a little effort. Since my plausibility reserves were still low, I would first head toward a couple of the frogn villages and drain the faith accumulated in their totems. Once that was done, I would move straight toward the inverted pyramid—the Forgotten Vault.
***
I managed to gather a sizable sum of plausibility by secretly siphoning the faith stored within the Green Webber Tribe’s totems. Moving unseen beneath the cover of the cursed coat and the Mask of a Thousand Races, I infiltrated village after village, watching the frogn bow in prayer to their guardian deity while their faith was quietly redirected into my reserves.
At the sa ti, whenever I encountered a stray group of frogn—whether they were hunting lizardn or simply patrolling their territory—I took the opportunity to ambush them. Each skirmish earned a bit more experience, allowing to level up twice. However, since I wasn’t actively seeking them out, and after yesterday’s large-scale hunt, their numbers had noticeably dwindled.
During my rounds, I also discovered that so of the larger settlents were keeping lizardn as slaves. The largest of them all—the one beside the vast, murky lake said to house their guardian deity—held dozens of prisoners in cages fashioned from bone and vine. From what I overheard, the frogn regularly conducted sacrificial rituals, offering the lizardn’s lives to their so-called god in exchange for protection.
Whatever the case, I still didn’t intend to interfere and had no reason to do so yet. Whether those lizardn lived or died mattered little, so I turned my back on their misery and continued onward toward the inverted pyramid.
Before long, the enormous structure lood ahead once again. I stopped about thirty ters away, studying the weathered surface, locking my gaze on the narrow gap halfway up the pyramid’s slope—just large enough for a single person to slip through.
“Guess that’s my entry point,” I murmured.
Activating Stealth Movents, my form blurred into shadow as I scaled the slanted wall while also simultaneously using other movent skills like Wind Rush and Predator’s Step to keep my footing steady, and also cast {Mass Alteration} to lighten my weight. In no ti, I reached the narrow opening and crouched before it, peering inside. The passage within was dark, narrow, and steep, sloping downward into the unknown. A faint current of stale air drifted from within, carrying the scent of dust and sothing faintly tallic.
Without wasting another second, I slipped inside and descended the winding path. My boots sank into layers of compacted dust that hadn’t been disturbed in centuries. The deeper I went, the more I could feel the calling of sothing inside becoming stronger.
Soon, the path enlarged to a room. Cracked walls lined with faded murals flanked on both sides, depicting scenes of demi-human races—lizardn, frogn, and others—kneeling before a colossal being with the upper body of a man and the lower half of a serpent. The figure’s face had been intentionally defaced in every depiction, leaving only jagged scratches where its eyes should have been.
I frowned. “Half-human, half-serpent… could this be their god?”
I kept advancing, keeping my guard up of my surroundings. Suddenly, I noticed sothing was wrong ahead and stopped in my tracks. I quickly activated Mana Sense, and almost imdiately, faint magical fluctuations appeared ahead.
“Traps… of course.”
Normally, Michelle would have been the first to notice any danger ahead, and depending on our formation, Tuilë would’ve been the one to disarm the traps with her gadgets. However, despite being sothing of a jack-of-all-trades, I lacked any real skill dedicated to trap detection or dismantling. Well, except for one workaround. It seems I’ll have to use ‘that’ skill here.
“Echo Construct,” I invoked, and a pulse of energy radiated from my body, coalescing beside . Within seconds, a perfect copy of myself appeared—expressionless and still, awaiting orders. I directed it to move ahead.
The clone obeyed, stepping cautiously forward. Barely three steps in, crimson runes flared beneath its feet, and a spike of black stone shot upward from beneath it, impaling it clean through the torso. The clone shattered into fragnts of light before dissolving completely.
The construct has been destroyed.
“Yep. Traps confird.”
I exhaled through my nose, then summoned another construct. “All right, number two. Your turn.”
The second copy advanced obediently, stepping into another trap monts later. This ti, a section of the wall split open, releasing a thick jet of greenish mist that filled the narrow corridor. The clone staggered, its body lting into the haze before vanishing.
The construct has been destroyed.
“Good. Keep clearing the way for , you disposable little lifesaver.” I couldn’t help but smirk at how effective the strategy was. This skill was worth every soul coin I’d spent on it. Hopefully, the constructs wouldn’t gain a will of their own and attack for using them like this. Well, they were only semi-real duplicates, so there was nothing to worry about.
And so, I continued summoning them one after another. Each one advanced a few ters farther before triggering another hidden trap—spikes, darts, arrows, crushing walls, and more poison mist. One by one, the hazards discharged and reset, but with every cycle, my safe path expanded deeper into the Forgotten Vault.
Echo Construct has leveled up.
Despite the skill leveling up, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. “Ugh… this skill is way too draining.”
Having used the skill ten tis nonstop, my head felt light and my limbs heavy. The ntal strain was catching up to fast. For all its usefulness, Echo Construct had so serious drawbacks. For example, I could only summon and maintain one construct at a ti at the skill’s current level, severely limiting its versatility. Worse still, every activation drained both stamina and focus, leaving a dull ache behind my eyes.
Still, my efforts weren’t in vain. I’d finally managed to map out a safe path through the labyrinth of traps. Following the exact trail my last construct had taken, I moved cautiously forward and safely reached the final archway.
However, what appeared before left utterly speechless.
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