(Black Serpents Guild Headquarters, Recovery Wing, Two days later)
The man sitting in the corner of the reinforced chamber looked like Dupravel Nuna.
He spoke like him.
He gave orders like him.
But Antonio wasn’t sure if it really was him anymore.
Dupravel sat slouched on the floor, not the bed. His eyes darted around the room, never once meeting another’s gaze. His lips moved even when silent, as though muttering to voices only he could hear.
His left arm—torn open days ago from compulsive scratching—still bled in patches, but he kept clawing at it anyway, as though if he tore away enough skin, he might finally be clean of the taint.
"Dupravel," Antonio said softly, sitting a few feet away on a stool. "Talk to me."
"I am talking," the man replied, his voice thin and uneven. "You’re just not listening fast enough."
Antonio didn’t correct him.
Instead, he waited as Dupravel reached under a heap of torn robes and pulled out a scroll that was frayed, blood-stained and warped by corrupted mana.
"I mapped it," Dupravel muttered. "I found it."
"What?"
"The castle. Valdara. Center of the world. The Origin Metal is there." His hand shook as he pressed the scroll into Antonio’s lap. "You need to go."
Antonio slowly unrolled the parchment.
Within it was a map drawn in uneven strokes.
Some of it looked carefully charted, annotated with arrows and coordinates.
Others were smeared, overwritten, or drawn over with childlike symbols and unexplained spirals.
"And these?" Antonio asked, lifting another set of folded pages, notes, written in Dupravel’s unmistakable script.
"They explain everything," Dupravel said, eyes staring into the corner. "Everything. All of it. I wrote it so I wouldn’t forget. Did I forget? Did I forget already?"
"You’re fine," Antonio said gently. "You did good."
As he flipped to the first page.
---
Points to remember :-
1. Entry point stable. Mana density is increasing as predicted.
2. Avoid dark-rooted trees— they leech your thoughts if you touch them.
3. Do not follow the music. It’s not music.
4. I saw Noah. He’s still dead. But he tried to speak.
5. The hills near the seventh spire bleed when cut. Avoid.
12. Water is black. Not liquid. Feels like ash. Tastes like despair.
23. Nights last 30 hours. Sleeping during them is a mistake.
35. Saw a mirror version of myself. It looked stronger. I let it walk away.
By note 50, the tone began to shift.
52. The ground whispers when I run. I tried to apologize. It asked for my eyes.
58. I forgot my name today. I think it starts with "D." Or "Dead."
67. I buried my heartbeat in the soil so nothing could find it. I still hear it scream.
79. The sun blinked at me today.
By note 100, comprehension had begun to decay entirely.
101. The numbers aren’t in order anymore. But the teeth are.
108. He wears a crown made of my regrets.
117. Don’t eat the blue clouds. They remember being people.
125. Laughter keeps following me. It sounds like Antonio.
132. Stop writing. The ink is made of screams.
139. Valdora is not a castle. Valdora is a wound.
147. The door bleeds when I draw near. I think I’m the key.
150. It guards the metal. It likes names. Don’t bring yours.
Antonio stared at the final page, the ink sloppier now, almost carved into the parchment.
153. Am I not me? I’m the one that came back!
He slowly set the pages down.
Dupravel hadn’t moved.
"Schedule an expedition," Dupravel murmured. "Soon. Send men. No stronger than Grandmasters."
"Why?" Antonio asked quietly. "If it’s that dangerous, shouldn’t we send our best?"
Dupravel finally turned his head, just slightly, although his eyes remained unfocused.
"The stronger you are… the louder you are," he whispered. "Strength calls strength. Everyone’s a beast in there. And beasts don’t fight mice."
He scratched his arm again. This time down to the bone.
"A lion may not chase after a mouse running through the forest," he muttered. "But he will never allow another lion to hunt in his territory."
Antonio’s throat tightened.
And though the man before him was barely stitched together in mind or soul—
Dupravel Nuna looked like he was still trying to lead the guild, even from the edge of madness.
"Understood Guildmaster, I’ll post a notice for the same in the rewards hall, gather willing participants," Antonio said, as Dupravel randomly began beating his chest like an ape.
*Thud*
*THUD*
*THUD!!!*
Each subsequent strike was stronger than before, making Antonio worry that he might break his own rib cage. However, after the third one, he stopped abruptly.
"Offer them anything. Offer them any reward from the treasury if they retrieve the Origin Metal.
Tell them to set the limit as 500 days.
500 days. No more.
No Grandmaster can spend more than 500 days in there without going insane.
And tell them to carry their own mana stones before the expedition begins.
Tell them to stop cycling mana from the surroundings and to only absorb mana from the stones that they carried, as that will help slow down their mental decay." Dupravel adviced, with a broken voice.
"Understood, Guildmaster…." Antonio said, as he stormed out of Dupravel’s cabin, suppressing the tear that was welling up in his eye.
He couldn’t bear to see Dupravel in such a state.
As whenever he saw his old friend in such a miserable state, he couldn’t help but feel boundless hatred for Darnell and his wretched mother, who Dupravel continues to SIMP for even after losing his own sense of self.
"I always knew that bitch Jessica was more rotten than the mana inside a Still World.
It took 11 years for the wretched world to corrupt Dupravel’s mind, however, the bitch did more damage in just 3 short years.
The poison she poured into Dupravel’s mind—and the cursed spawn she left behind—are the chains that dragged my best friend into madness.
And for that offence, I’ll never forgive them." Antonio said, as he made his way to the mission postings centre, to put up the latest and most lucrative mission the guild had ever posted yet.