Chapter 73: A Forgotten Home (Part 1)

Zion stood at the edge of the graveyard and tried, for at least the tenth time, to focus on the part of the floor he was actually supposed to be building.

The path before him wound through what had probably once been a flower garden.

Old stone borders still divided beds that were now choked with weeds and overgrown roses, but graves had been dug wherever there was room. Some were marked with simple wooden crosses. Others had small stones set at the head, or nothing more than a name carved into a piece of wood.

The plots were uneven too. A few sat close together beneath rusted sections of garden fencing, while others had been squeezed between old flower beds or dug directly beside the path.

It didn’t look like anyone had planned for this place to become a cemetery. They had simply needed somewhere to bury people.

Zion looked over it quietly. It was exactly the kind of place he wanted.

Somber, overgrown, and full of potential.

He could already picture skeleton knights stationed near the main path, half-buried sentries rising when adventurers stepped too close. Smaller undead could wander between the graves. Maybe a few broken mausoleums could act as ambush points. He could even hide rewards deeper in the cemetery to lure people off the safer route.

It was good.

More than good, honestly. But every time he tried to finalize where something should go, his attention drifted elsewhere.

Back to the castle.

The castle stood beyond the graveyard on higher ground, large enough to be visible from almost anywhere on the floor. Several towers had broken near the top, and one leaned slightly to the side. Parts of the outer wall had collapsed completely, exposing empty rooms and sections of the interior to the night air.

Even from a distance, he could see missing windows, broken stonework, and places where entire sections of roof had fallen in.

It looked old. Not abandoned for a few years but old enough that the damage had become part of it.

He found himself staring at it again. "I wish I could incorporate the castle into the floor."

Up until now, he had never seriously considered combining multiple terrains on the same floor. He knew secondary terrain options existed, at least vaguely, but the cost had always seemed absurd. Wasteful.

If he was being honest, most of his early planning had been built on the idea that every piece of essence needed to justify itself. Every purchase had to work. Every monster had to earn its place.

Now?

He looked back at the distant castle.

Now he didn’t care.

"I don’t even know if it’s possible," he muttered, though that had never really stopped him from trying something before.

He opened the terrain section of the store again. The graveyard preview shrank off to one side while new terrain listings filled the air in front of him. Zion started scrolling.

Pristine marble palaces passed by first. Bright royal courts. Grand estates with clean columns and polished stone. Elegant garden manors untouched by time.

He barely looked at them.

"No, not this one." He kept going. "Too clean."

More options appeared. Some were heavier, darker, older. Fortresses. Keeps. Half-ruined halls.

"This one is close..."

He paused on a crumbling mountain fortress, then shook his head and moved on again. A few more options slid upward before he stopped so suddenly that the entire menu jolted in place.

"Wait!"

There it was.

The castle.

Not something close to it. Not something similar. The exact one he was looking for. He opened the full preview immediately.

The structure expanded before him, and for a moment Zion forgot to breathe.

The castle sat on a broad rise of dark stone. Its foundations were thick, with long stairways climbing toward the main entrance, though several sections had cracked or collapsed.

The outer walls were still mostly standing, but years of damage showed everywhere. Stone had chipped away around the windows, parts of the parapet were missing, and darker stains ran down the walls where rain had collected.

Even ruined, it was obvious the castle had once been expensive to build.

The castle had clearly been built to impress. Tall pointed arches framed the shattered windows, while flying buttresses reached from the outer walls like stone ribs. Spires and narrow towers rose above the main structure, their tips broken and uneven against the night sky.

Weather-darkened statues stood along the parapets and above the entrances. Some were angels, others kings or saints, while a few were figures Zion could not recognize at all.

Most had been damaged by time. Heads missing. Wings broken. Faces worn smooth by erosion until they looked almost ghostlike.

And still, somehow, the castle was beautiful. Not beautiful in a warm or inviting way. Beautiful in the way old cathedrals were beautiful. In the way abandoned kingdoms were beautiful. Something that had once been full of life and music and certainty, now left to moonlight, ivy, and silence.

Forgotten, but not diminished.

Zion stared at the price next.

[Ruined High Castle Terrain]

[Price: 3,000 Essence]

This time, the price barely registered.

Zion did not flinch or start calculating how many monsters, traps, or upgrades he could buy with the same amount. He had already decided he wanted the castle.

So he selected it. A new prompt appeared.

[Activate secondary terrain?]

"Yes."

The world around him shifted.

He was still standing in the garden-cemetery, but the distant silhouette ahead changed first. What had once felt far away and unreachable now drew closer, as though the floor itself folded to accommodate it. The rise of land leading toward the castle became real terrain instead of distant scenery. Stone paths widened. Garden walls emerged from the shadows and details sharpened.

Now he could see the castle properly. He could see the weather stains running beneath shattered windows as well as the ivy clinging stubbornly to the lower walls.

He could see the angels carved into support beams and high alcoves, each one cracked or broken differently. One had lost both arms. Another still held a stone trumpet though half its face was gone. A third knelt above an archway with only one wing remaining, the other shattered into a jagged stump.

The damage only deepened the atmosphere. The whole place felt abandoned in a way that was almost reverent, as if no one had dared disturb it for years.

Zion took in the sight for several long moments, then smiled to himself.

"Yes," he said softly. "My home."

He started walking. He could have shifted his awareness farther ahead if he wanted. He could have simply opened a broader floor overview and skimmed the layout in an instant.

But he didn’t want that. He wanted to see it properly.