Chapter 67: The Puzzle
’So it’s a puzzle,’ I thought, crouching down to inspect one of the fragments.
The kind of setup you’d see in adventure games or those mystery novels where the protagonist has to solve a riddle to move forward.
If I solved it, there was probably something hidden behind that barrier. Maybe a secret chamber. Maybe treasure. Or maybe... something worse.
"Well," I murmured, rolling my shoulders. "Let’s try to solve it."
I crouched lower, studying the pieces more closely, but before I could make sense of anything—
"Huh?"
My hand, which had been reaching toward the wall, slipped through it.
"...What?"
I froze.
The white membrane that Berno had called a barrier—my fingers had just passed through it like it wasn’t even there.
For a second, I just stared, blinking dumbly. Then I pulled my hand back out. Solid. Normal.
Tentatively, I reached forward again.
It went through.
No resistance, no reaction. Like dipping my hand into water that wasn’t wet.
I turned to Berno, who was staring at me like I’d just broken a law of nature.
"...Did you do something?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
"I didn’t touch anything," I said, waving my arm through the barrier again just to prove it. "It’s just... letting me through?"
A barrier designed to stop anyone—and yet, for some reason, it didn’t stop me.
The puzzle someone had probably spent hours, maybe days designing, was now completely useless.
"Well," I sighed, stepping all the way through. "That’s convenient."
A faint shimmer rippled across the barrier’s surface as I passed.
Inside, the air felt heavier, older somehow. Dust hung in the air like mist, and in the distance, something caught my eye.
"There’s... a box over there," I said quietly.
It sat on a stone pedestal—a beautifully carved chest, old but intact, its golden trim dulled by time.
Whatever was inside it... was definitely meant to stay hidden.
I walked toward the box without a second thought.
It sat there in the middle of the dusty chamber—old, worn, and covered in a thin layer of grime. Despite its age, it didn’t seem damaged, which only made it stand out more among the ruins.
I crouched down, brushed some dust off the lid, and slowly lifted it open.
Pop!
"...?"
A faint burst of mana escaped from inside, like the snap of a bubble breaking.
My instincts kicked in immediately—I stepped back and raised my guard, ready for something to jump out.
But nothing happened.
No explosion. No cursed mist. No monster emerging from the shadows. Just... silence.
I frowned. "What was that just now?"
The mana that had been released was barely detectable—so faint it could’ve been mistaken for a spark.
’Was it just... an effect?’
It reminded me of those overly dramatic flashes you’d see when opening a treasure chest in a game.
Maybe this was the same kind of thing—some kind of ancient magical lock that triggered a harmless reaction when opened.
Letting out a small sigh, I lowered my hand and looked inside.
What I saw made me blink.
"...Shoes?"
Sitting neatly inside the ancient box was a pair of sneakers.
Not boots. Not enchanted greaves. Sneakers.
They looked ridiculously out of place here—clean, sleek, and strangely modern, like something you’d find in a sports store rather than a centuries-old ruin.
The sight was so absurd that for a moment, all I could do was stare.
’Am I... hallucinating?’
Because no matter how many fantasy worlds I’d read about, none of them ever included cursed relics shaped like running shoes.
*****
Deep within a cavern, hidden far beneath the surface, something vast slept in silence.
The air was heavy with heat—waves of it rolling out from the creature’s body with every deep, rumbling breath. The ground trembled faintly beneath its weight, and the faint glow of molten veins along the cave walls flickered in rhythm with its breathing.
A massive shadow lay curled upon a bed of stone and gold, scales glinting faintly beneath the dim light. Mountains of treasure surrounded it—ancient crowns dulled by time, blades once swung by heroes now rusting beneath layers of dust, and gemstones that shimmered like fragments of the sun.
The creature’s chest rose and fell slowly, exhaling clouds of warm vapor that shimmered in the air. The faint sound of dripping magma echoed somewhere deeper in the cavern, blending with the steady pulse of the dragon’s slumbering heartbeat.
Then—
Pop—!
A subtle ripple of magic washed through the cave. It was faint, but sharp—like a thread being plucked somewhere far away.
The dragon’s golden eyes snapped open, their glow cutting through the darkness like twin suns.
"...It’s been a while," a deep, ancient voice rumbled, echoing softly against the cavern walls.
The dragon remained still for a long while, as if savoring the lingering taste of the disturbance in the air. Its pupils narrowed, focusing on the faint ripple of energy still dancing at the edge of its senses.
That signature... unmistakable.
It had forged that seal itself—so long ago that even the memory had begun to fade into myth.
The dragon slowly uncurled, each movement sending tremors through the cavern. Gold coins slid down the slopes of its massive body, clinking and scattering across the stone floor. Its wings unfurled slightly, revealing webbing that shimmered faintly like molten steel.
"One of mine," it murmured, a note of amusement in its thunderous voice. "Someone has awakened one of my relics."
Its gaze lifted, staring through the rock and earth above as if it could see beyond the surface—beyond the mountains, past the city, straight toward the source.
"The Academy..."
The word rolled off its tongue, heavy with centuries of memory.
So that place still stood. The last time it had looked upon it, the Academy had been nothing more than a fortress built by frightened magi, seeking power they could barely comprehend.
And now... someone there had dared to touch what was not theirs.
The dragon’s lips curled into what could almost be called a smile, though it was more predatory than amused.
"Human curiosity never dies," it said softly. "Even after all this time."
The molten veins along the walls pulsed brighter for a moment as the dragon’s magic flared faintly, resonating with the faint trace left behind by the broken seal.
A vision flickered briefly in its mind—a glimpse of the surface. A flash of an unfamiliar face, a spark of power, and the faint echo of a sword cutting through magic.
The dragon’s eyes gleamed.
"So, that’s the one."
A deep chuckle rumbled in its chest, shaking the entire cavern. A cascade of gold coins tumbled down like falling rain.
"Not bad," it murmured. "It’s been centuries since anyone’s managed to solve one of my puzzles."
Its tail lazily swept across the ground, leaving deep grooves in the stone. "Perhaps this era will not be as dull as I thought."
The dragon stretched, claws scraping against the bedrock, and turned its gaze toward a narrow tunnel leading deeper into the abyss.
From within, a faint hum echoed—a resonance of ancient power slumbering in the darkness.
"Awaken, my kin," it whispered, its voice laced with command. "The world stirs again."
A faint ripple of heat spread through the air as if the entire mountain itself was breathing.
Then, slowly, the dragon settled once more atop its hoard. Its eyes half-lidded, golden light dimming as it sank back into the comfort of its long rest.
"But not yet," it murmured to itself, amusement dancing in its tone. "Let’s see how far this human can go first."
The cavern quieted again.
Only the steady rhythm of the dragon’s breathing remained—deep, resonant, and patient.
And somewhere far above, in a place filled with light and laughter and the scent of fresh wind, a faint echo of that ancient power continued to stir.
Unseen. Unnoticed.
Waiting.