Chapter 678: [Bonus - 5/9] The Bronze Plaque

Chapter 678: [Bonus Chapter 5/9] The Bronze Plaque

Behind the ancient door was a staircase made of black stone, spiraling downward in tight, narrow turns that disappeared into the darkness below.

The steps were uneven and worn, as though countless feet had passed over them throughout the ages, while the walls on both sides were lined with ribcages arranged like banisters.

The air grew warmer and wetter as Thoren stood at the entrance, and a faint, unpleasant smell drifted upward from the darkness below.

It was not the familiar stench of rotting corpses, but something older and more difficult to identify.

The channel from the nave poured into a single trough cut along the edge of the staircase, and the black water flowed steadily downward.

It passed over the stone without making much noise, disappearing around each narrow turn before continuing into the depths below.

The sight reminded Thoren of the strange water that had followed him throughout the Weeping Ossuary, and he could not help wondering where it all eventually led.

He stood at the entrance for a moment, carefully examining the staircase before taking a deep breath.

Although the Tallykeeper had accepted his payment and disappeared, Thoren had learned not to assume that surviving one ordeal meant the next would be any easier.

The appearance of the mysterious door had already proved that the Weeping Ossuary was far from finished with him.

Nevertheless, he had already made his decision.

Thoren adjusted his posture and began descending the staircase, placing each foot carefully on the narrow black stones.

The Soul Lantern of Eternal Crypt floated above his head, casting its pale light across the ribcages embedded in the walls and revealing the wet surfaces of the steps.

The farther he descended, the warmer the air became, and the dampness began clinging to his skin.

The black water continued flowing beside him, following the trough along the edge of the staircase as though it were guiding him toward a destination known only to itself.

Thoren continued downward in silence until, halfway through the descent, the narrow staircase suddenly opened into a long, circular gallery.

He halted immediately and raised his head, his eyes moving across the unfamiliar surroundings as he tried to understand what he had discovered.

The gallery was much larger than he had expected.

Its circular walls extended around him, while the ceiling rose into darkness beyond the reach of his lantern’s illumination.

Yet, what caught his attention most was the writing covering the walls from floor to ceiling.

Names.

Thousands upon thousands of names had been carved into the stone, arranged in tight rows that spiraled upward along the curved walls.

Some were deeply engraved, their edges worn smooth by time, while others appeared sharper, as though they had been carved more recently.

He stared at them in silence, feeling an unfamiliar heaviness settle over his heart.

How many people did these names belong to?

And what had happened to the people whose names had been preserved in this forgotten place?

The gallery felt less like a passage and more like a memorial.

At the center of the gallery stood a stone lectern holding a bronze plaque.

Thoren knitted his brow and slowly approached it, his attention shifting from the countless names on the walls to the object resting on the lectern.

He leaned forward to examine the inscription, only to be shocked when he realized that the words were written in plain speech..

Thoren’s expression grew solemn as he began reading.

"The realm was lowered on the thirteenth night of the dusk. We carved every name we could gather. If you are reading this, the count is not complete."

He paused, his eyes lingering on the words as he tried to understand their meaning.

The realm was lowered?

What did that even mean?

Had an entire realm been dragged underground, or was the inscription describing something far more terrible?

His gaze moved to the next line.

"Finish it, and the way out is yours."

Thoren’s breathing slowed as he read the sentence again in his mind.

The way out.

Those three words struck him harder than the rest of the inscription.

He had entered the trenches searching for a route that could lead him away from the third floor, and now, after passing through the Weeping Ossuary and descending into this hidden gallery.

He had finally encountered what he had been looking for.

However, the promise came with a condition.

He had to finish the count.

Thoren slowly raised his head and looked at the thousands of names carved into the walls. His expression darkened as he considered what the inscription might be asking of him.

Before he could settle on an answer, his eyes returned to the final line of the inscription.

"The world was not destroyed. It was buried."

A chill crept through his body despite the warmth of the air around him.

The world had not been destroyed.

It had been buried.

Thoren stared at the bronze plaque, his mind racing as he tried to imagine what kind of power could bury an entire world.

Then he read the final sentence.

"And someone meant for the buried to leave."

For a moment, Thoren did not move as he thought about the words engraved on the bronze plaque. The final sentence continued to linger in his mind, filling him with an uncomfortable feeling.

More importantly, why had someone left such a message in a place as sinister as the Weeping Ossuary?

After thinking about it for a moment, he shook his head.

There were still too many things hidden from him, and he did not have the time to worry about every mystery he encountered.

Right now, his mission was to discover where this passage led while also finding a way to escape the Weeping Ossuary.

"Forget about it," he muttered, turning away from the bronze plaque before continuing his descent.

The black stone staircase spiraled deeper into the darkness, its narrow steps forcing Thoren to proceed carefully.

After several more minutes, the staircase finally began to straighten, and the sound of flowing water grew clearer as it approached the end of the passage.

Thoren slowed his steps, carefully making his way down the final stretch before arriving at the bottom.

And what greeted him was a great iron gate.