The shrine trembled.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Outside...
Dozens of disciplined footsteps came to a halt.
No shouting.
No panic.
Only absolute order.
The old fisherman closed his eyes.
"...They’re here."
Noah stepped toward the shrine entrance.
"Who are they?"
The fisherman answered quietly.
"They call themselves..."
"...The Circle of Ash."
Damien frowned.
"I’ve never heard that name."
"You weren’t supposed to."
The wooden sparrow suddenly fluttered onto Noah’s shoulder.
Its tiny body trembled.
For the first time...
It looked afraid.
Outside...
The silver-eyed young man slowly climbed the shrine’s white stone steps.
His black cloak flowed behind him.
Unlike the others...
He wore no mask.
The soldiers surrounding him remained perfectly still.
Like statues awaiting orders.
He stopped before the closed shrine doors.
Then smiled.
"...You may stop hiding."
His voice wasn’t loud.
Yet it echoed through every corner of the shrine.
Eric whispered,
"...He knows we’re inside."
The old fisherman looked toward Noah.
"Listen carefully."
"I cannot interfere."
Noah frowned.
"Why not?"
"My purpose..."
"...is to guide."
"Not to fight."
Another tremor shook the shrine.
Hairline cracks spread across the entrance.
The silver-eyed man sighed.
"...How disappointing."
He gently placed one hand on the ancient doors.
There was no explosion.
No violent impact.
Instead...
The countless runes covering the doors began fading.
One by one.
As if his mere touch erased them.
Sophia’s eyes widened.
"...He’s dismantling the barrier."
Father Benedict’s blessing pendant hanging in Noah’s pocket suddenly glowed with a warm silver light.
The fading runes slowed.
Only slightly.
The fisherman noticed.
"...Keep that close."
"It remembers."
Eric blinked.
"What remembers?"
"The promise."
The fisherman answered.
Outside...
The silver-eyed man looked at the slowing runes.
A faint smile appeared.
"So..."
"...the old priest still believed."
He stepped back.
Then calmly raised one finger.
One masked soldier immediately walked forward.
No words were exchanged.
No commands given.
The soldier simply understood.
He placed both hands against the shrine doors.
Dark crimson energy spread across the ancient stone.
Unlike Noah’s Ragnarok...
This power felt...
Cold.
Empty.
Hungry.
The shrine groaned.
CRAAAAACK...
Luna tightened her grip on her daggers.
"They’re going to break through."
"No."
The fisherman corrected softly.
"They’re opening the wrong door."
Noah looked toward him.
"What do you mean?"
The fisherman smiled.
"Watch."
The ancient doors shattered.
Stone exploded outward.
Sunlight poured into the shrine.
The masked soldiers rushed inside.
Weapons drawn.
Formation perfect.
Their leader calmly walked through the broken entrance.
His silver eyes immediately scanned the room.
The pedestal.
The pillars.
The pool.
Squad Seven.
Then...
His gaze settled on Noah.
"...So."
"The key chose someone this young."
Eric stepped in front of Noah.
"If you’re here for a fight..."
The silver-eyed man raised one hand.
Eric suddenly froze.
Not because of fear.
His body simply...
Wouldn’t move.
"What..."
Eric gritted his teeth.
"...did you do?"
"I asked."
The young man replied calmly.
"Your body listened."
Noah’s expression sharpened.
This wasn’t ordinary mana.
The leader slowly bowed.
Surprisingly.
Politely.
"My name..."
"...is Lucien."
"I have no wish to kill any of you."
Luna scoffed.
"Then why bring an army?"
Lucien looked around the shrine.
His answer was simple.
"Because..."
"...I expected the Keeper."
Silence.
The old fisherman smiled faintly.
"You finally arrived."
Lucien returned the smile.
"I did."
For several long seconds...
Neither spoke.
It felt less like enemies meeting...
And more like two people continuing a conversation interrupted centuries ago.
Lucien looked back toward Noah.
"The Keeper has already shown you the past."
Noah remained silent.
Lucien continued.
"But he never tells anyone..."
"...how the story ends."
The old fisherman sighed.
"Because..."
"...it hasn’t."
Lucien nodded.
"Exactly."
He took one slow step toward Noah.
"I didn’t come for the key."
Everyone froze.
"I came..."
"...to ask the Key Bearer a question."
Noah frowned.
"What question?"
Lucien’s silver eyes became completely emotionless.
He spoke only seven words.
"Do you believe history told the truth?"
The shrine fell into complete silence.
Even the old fisherman...
Did not answer.
The question lingered in the shrine.
"Do you believe history told the truth?"
Noah didn’t answer immediately.
Instead...
He studied Lucien.
The young man’s expression held no hatred.
No arrogance.
Only conviction.
Finally...
Noah spoke.
"I don’t know."
Lucien smiled faintly.
"...Good."
Eric frowned.
"That’s a good answer?"
Lucien looked at him.
"The most dangerous people..."
"...are the ones who believe they already know the truth."
The old fisherman quietly nodded.
"For once..."
"...we agree."
Lucien walked slowly around the shrine.
His silver eyes lingered on the white pillars.
"The world remembers six heroes."
"It remembers a great victory."
"It remembers peace."
He stopped before the empty pedestal.
"But history..."
"...is written by survivors."
Noah remembered the Keeper’s words.
History is remembered by the victors.
Truth belongs to the witnesses.
Lucien looked back at Noah.
"The Keeper showed you the beginning."
"He always does."
"But tell me..."
"Did he show you..."
"...what happened after the battle?"
Noah remained silent.
No.
The vision had ended the moment the key awakened.
Lucien spread his hands.
"There."
"My point."
The old fisherman finally spoke.
"Because that knowledge..."
"...must be earned."
Lucien laughed quietly.
"Or perhaps..."
"...because you’re ashamed."
For the first time...
The old fisherman’s calm expression cracked.
Only for a heartbeat.
But Noah noticed.
Damien stepped forward.
"Enough."
"We’re not interested in your arguments."
Lucien looked at him.
"Aren’t you?"
He pointed toward the shattered shrine doors.
"Outside..."
"My people believe the Keeper betrayed humanity."
He pointed toward the fisherman.
"Inside..."
"He is remembered as its greatest guardian."
He smiled.
"Two completely different histories."
"So..."
"...which one is lying?"
Silence.
Sophia quietly whispered,
"...Maybe..."
"...neither."
Every eye turned toward her.
She looked uncertain.
"What if..."
"...both sides are remembering different parts of the same story?"
Lucien stared at her.
For several long moments.
Then...
He smiled.
"An interesting thought."
The old fisherman nodded with quiet approval.
"Wisdom begins..."
"...when certainty ends."
A masked soldier suddenly hurried inside.
He knelt before Lucien.
"My Lord."
Lucien looked at him.
"What is it?"
"The eastern team has returned."
"They found the ruined shrine."
"And?"
The soldier hesitated.
"...It’s empty."
Lucien frowned.
"Impossible."
"They searched every chamber."
"There was no relic."
"No seal."
"No records."
"Nothing."
Lucien slowly closed his eyes.
"...Of course."
He looked toward the old fisherman.
"You hid it well."
The fisherman smiled.
"I didn’t."
"The truth hid itself."
Lucien sighed.
"I was hoping..."
"...it wouldn’t be that simple."
He turned back toward Noah.
"I’ll make you an offer."
Eric immediately stepped between them.
"We’re not joining you."
Lucien chuckled.
"I wasn’t recruiting anyone."
He reached inside his cloak.
Instead of drawing a weapon...
He removed an old leather-bound journal.
Its cover was black.
Burned around the edges.
He tossed it gently toward Noah.
Noah caught it.
"Read it."
Lucien said calmly.
"Not now."
"When you’re alone."
The cover bore no title.
Only one faded sentence.
Personal Record of the Sixth King
Noah’s eyes widened.
Lucien turned toward the broken doorway.
"My mission here is over."
Eric blinked.
"...You’re leaving?"
Lucien nodded.
"I found what I came for."
He looked back one final time.
"Now..."
"...it’s your turn to decide what you believe."
Without another word...
He walked out of the shrine.
Every masked soldier followed.
Perfect discipline.
Within moments...
The Circle of Ash had vanished into the underground forest.
Silence returned.
Eric let out a long breath.
"...That..."
"...wasn’t what I expected."
Damien looked toward Noah.
"What are you thinking?"
Noah stared at the black journal in his hands.
Then looked toward the old fisherman.
"You knew he’d bring this."
The fisherman smiled sadly.
"I hoped..."
"...he would."
Noah carefully opened the journal.
Only the first page.
Nothing more.
The handwriting was elegant.
Steady.
At the very top...
Seven words had been written in dark ink.
’If you found this, history has failed.’
Noah slowly closed the journal again.
He wasn’t ready.
Not yet.
Far beyond the underground forest...
Lucien walked alone through the shadows.
One of his masked followers finally spoke.
"My Lord..."
"Why didn’t you take the key?"
Lucien didn’t slow his pace.
"Because..."
He looked toward the distant ceiling of the cavern.
"...it was never ours to take."
He smiled to himself.
"The next move..."
"...belongs to him."