Chapter 73: What Was Hidden

Chapter 73: Chapter 73: What Was Hidden

The eastern archive stood at the edge of the elven settlement.

Unlike the other structures it was in a state of abandonment. Massive vines crept up the majority of the stone walls while several layers of thick metal reinforced the entrance. Strange symbols had been etched into the doorway but time had weathered many of them away. Eldran halted before the massive structure. Arin studied its sealed entrance.

"This is the archive?"

"Part of it,"

Eldran fished an old key from his belt. "There is another chamber beneath it." He slid the key into the lock.

Click.

The ancient mechanism unlocked with a deep groan. Cold air rushed out from within the darkness. Arin’s Dungeon Sense flared to life. Something was here. Something old.

Something connected to the Dungeon Master Authority. Ayan was already picking up on his unease.

"You feel it?"

"Yeah,"

Saira stepped closer. "Then let’s stop standing around." They entered the archive.

A narrow stairway led downward beneath the structure.

Ten steps.

Twenty.

Thirty.

The deeper they went the older the walls became. Massive blocks of stone reinforced the stairwell with strange markings from ancient elven script. After several minutes the stairway opened into a large chamber.

An enormous door blocked their path.

Hundreds of markings covered its surface.

Eldran raised his torch. "This is the seal,"

Arin studied the symbols. "What does it say?" Eldran’s expression darkened as he read the inscriptions. "It says the chamber contains the original history of the Elven Dungeon."

Arin’s eyes narrowed. "The dungeon?"

Eldran nodded. "The dungeon beneath these lands." He placed his hand against the door. "It was not created by the elves." Arin’s expression shifted. "Another Dungeon Master?" "Yes,"

The ancient seal flared to life. The door creaked open. A deep rumbling vibrated throughout the chamber. Beyond the doorway a vast underground archive sprawled before their eyes. Shelves of stone lined the walls, thousands of records were meticulously stored within. Stone tablets, crystals, books and weapons were all carefully preserved.

Arin stepped forward. "This place is huge,"

Eldran scanned the chamber. "It has been sealed for longer than any living elf can remember." Arin focused his Dungeon Sense. The entire archive filled his senses.

The shelves, walls, and hidden chambers all became familiar to him before a sudden pulse registered in his mind. Right in front of him. Arin approached a large stone pedestal at the center of the room.

A crystal was embedded within its surface.

The moment his fingers brushed against it his Dungeon Master Mark flared to life.

A System window bloomed before his eyes.

[Dungeon Master Authority detected]

Arin froze. Eldran’s eyes were locked onto the glowing crystal. "So it really was here,"

Arin turned to face him. "You knew,"

"I knew the records were connected to a Dungeon Master," Eldran shook his head,

"I did not know the Authority had survived,"

Arin placed his palm against the crystal. The chamber was suddenly bathed in light. A colossal projection of an ancient dungeon appeared above the pedestal.

Massive roots and trees stretched across the sky while mountains surrounded the colossal structure. Vast tunnels weaved throughout the dungeon like veins pumping life through the body..Arin’s breath caught in his throat as the image shifted. Figures appeared within the cavernous walls. A Dungeon Master stood at the center of it all, his identity hidden behind a veil of mist. The dungeon was not being built, it was being shaped.

Training grounds, fortifications, monster enclosures, healing chambers and emergency shelters were all being conjured into existence. Elven warriors flooded the practice fields, bloodied and bruised before returning to the battlefield stronger than before. The image changed again. Smoke billowed across the sky as elven villages were set ablaze. Enemy forces swarmed the elven territory before the dungeon’s gates opened. Thousands of elves poured out to meet the invasion, their defenses reinforced by the Dungeon Master’s magic. The enemy forces were decimated as they were driven back into their territory through the dungeon’s tunnels.

Arin’s heart pounded in his chest. "This Dungeon Master protected the elves," Eldran nodded. "For generations," The image changed yet again. The war was ending, the elves returned to their lands. A new figure appeared before the Dungeon Master. A young elf with long black hair and piercing eyes. Arin’s expression twisted in realization.

"...Caelan,"

The chamber fell silent. Eldran stepped forward. The young elf was dressed in simple attire, not the armor of an Elven Hero or the garments Arin had seen him in yesterday. Something else. Eldran scanned the ancient text beneath the projection.

His voice grew quiet.

"Caelan,"

He paused, "Apprentice," Arin’s eyes widened. "Apprentice?" The image changed.

Another figure stood beside Caelan, a warrior wielding a single sword. His face was hidden behind a mask. Arin’s heart clenched. "The masked elf," Eldran’s eyes narrowed as he read the ancient text.

"Soldier assigned to the True Hero," Ayan’s expression darkened. "So Caelan served a Hero," "Not just any Hero," Eldran’s gaze lingered on the projection, "A True Hero,"

Arin stared at the image. Caelan and the masked warrior stood side by side before the Dungeon Master. The projection shifted again revealing another record. Caelan appeared once more, another year had passed.

Caelan,

Another,

Caelan.

Arin frowned. "Why is he appearing again?"

Eldran stepped toward the next tablet. Then stopped. He turned toward the date. His expression paled.."What’s wrong?" Arin asked as he followed his gaze. Eldran retrieved another tablet. He read it before his face drained of color.

Then another.

His hands began to shake.

"Eldran?"

The Elf Chief turned toward Arin. "These records," He swallowed hard, "They are not from the same period," Arin frowned. "What do you mean?" Eldran placed the tablets side by side. "This one was written after the dungeon was completed," He gestured to another, "This was written during a war,"

And another, "This is from generations later," Arin’s eyes swept over the dates. The difference between each spanned hundreds of years. Then thousands. But Caelan was there in every record.

Same name,

Same face,

Same youthful appearance.

Same jet-black hair.

The same man.

Arin’s stomach twisted. "How old is the oldest record?" Eldran did not answer. Arin turned toward him. "Eldran," The Elf Chief exhaled sharply. "Nine thousand..." He trailed off, his eyes scanning the ancient text. "No," He turned the tablet over. His face had gone completely pale. "Ten thousand," Silence stretched between them.

Even the air seemed to vibrate with tension.

Arin stared at the tablet before returning his gaze to Eldran. "Ten thousand?" Eldran nodded. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Ten thousand years,"

Arin’s expression darkened. "That’s impossible," Eldran said nothing. Arin turned toward him. "Right?" Eldran’s response was a long pause before the Elf Chief finally spoke. "Elves live a long time," He glanced down at his hands, "I have lived for nine hundred years," Arin’s eyes widened. Nine hundred years. Eldran had seen countless generations pass before his eyes. Empires had risen and fallen, wars had been won and lost. And yet, it was not an incredibly long lifespan. Eldran turned back toward the projection. "But ten thousand..."

His voice wavered, "Ten thousand years is more than ten times my entire life," He stared at Caelan’s image, "That man was already alive when I was not even a thought in this world,"

Arin’s heart pounded in his chest. Ayan’s expression tightened into a grim line. Saira took a step back. Adnan peered between the two men. "Ten thousand years ago..."

He trailed off, "Wasn’t that around the time Authority Ten lived?" Arin’s heart clenched.

Neva.

The oldest Dungeon Master they had encountered. The one who had fought against humanity. The one who had believed strongly enough in the power of Dungeon Masters to sacrifice himself.

Caelan had been there. Arin’s mind reeled at the possibilities. All these centuries later and Caelan was still here.

Still young.

Still powerful.

Still gathering Dungeon Masters. Arin’s breath came faster. "This isn’t just longevity," Eldran nodded. "No," Arin turned toward him. "He found a way to survive,"

Eldran’s eyes remained on the image of Caelan. "Or a way to stop aging," Ayan muttered, "Immortalization," The word hung in the air. Arin stared at the towering figure of Caelan. An Elven Hero, a Dungeon Master apprentice, a servant of a True Hero, a guardian of the ancient elven dungeon.

Ten thousand years ago.

And now?

An Elven Hero.

Arin’s fist clenched. "How?" No one knew. That, was the worrying part. They had found the history. They had found Caelan’s name.

They had found his connection to the Dungeon Masters. They had found the proof that he had existed during the time of Neva. But they still did not know how he had survived. The image changed one final time. A last record appeared. Caelan stood before the entrance of the ancient dungeon.

The masked warrior stood beside him.

Beneath them a single inscription stretched across the wall. Eldran carefully examined the text.

"Caelan,"

He hesitated,

"Apprentice of the Dungeon Master,"

Another line,

"Servant of the True Hero,"

Another,

"Guardian of the Elven Dungeon,"

Eldran’s voice grew quiet. Then he reached the final line. His eyes widened. "Still remains," The image vanished. Darkness returned to the chamber.

No one moved.

Arin stared at the empty space where Caelan had been standing. Ten thousand years. A man who should have been long dead was standing, breathing, living in front of them yesterday.. He had manipulated Neva. He had captured the other Dungeon Masters. He had studied their Authorities.

And now he wanted Arin. Arin turned toward the others. His expression was set.

"Okay,"

He glanced at the ancient records. Then Eldran. Then the spot where Caelan’s image had vanished. His voice dropped to a near whisper.

"Who the hell is this guy?"