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Chapter 598 - Awakening Bloodline, Unsealing Moslow

At the end of the passageway on the left side of the stone hall lay a recessed secret chamber.

Riezel, Lizbeth, and Euryale arrived there and discovered the side altar mentioned within the stone coffin.

Riezel circled the place once, only to return with disappointment.

"Too bad, there's only an altar here. Nothing else."

He relayed this to Lizbeth, who was holding Euryale by the hand, and that left Lizbeth rather dejected as well.

"Doesn't that mean we still don't know where the Hidden Land is?" Lizbeth felt discouraged at the thought.

"Looks like we've come to the wrong place..." Riezel let out a helpless sigh.

They had already explored nearly the entire ancient ruin, even the tomb chamber hidden behind the statue, yet still hadn't uncovered any records related to the Dimensional Magic Cube or the Hidden Land, which suggested that what they sought most likely didn't exist within this ancient ruin.

"Well, it's not impossible." Riezel shrugged. "We should've been prepared for this from the start."

In the first place, the reason he and Lizbeth wanted to come to this ancient ruin was not because they were certain it held information about the Dimensional Magic Cube or the Hidden Land, but because, during Yuri's investigation, she had discovered that it was connected to Moslow.

Because the murals here recorded the Reinnail Clan's struggle against monsters with Moslow, and there was a hole shaped to fit the blade of Moslow, Yuri had told Riezel about this place, hoping he and Lizbeth might find some clues.

In other words, Riezel and Lizbeth had never known whether this ancient ruin contained any intelligence on the Dimensional Magic Cube or the Hidden Land, so they came simply because the site was connected to Moslow—and Moslow, in turn, was linked to both the Dimensional Magic Cube and the Hidden Land she had mentioned.

Under such circumstances, even if their purpose was not achieved and no clues were found, it was understandable.

Of course…

'We didn't come away empty-handed, though.'

Riezel thought of the ancient fire dragon sealed here, the appearance of Ice Maiden, Euryale, and the ancient scripts and murals recorded on the walls.

At last, his gaze settled upon the center of the side hall, where an altar raised one step above the rest stood.

Nothing rested atop it—only a hole.

Maybe this was Lizbeth's greatest gain here.

Riezel patted Lizbeth's shoulder and spoke up.

"Go."

Riezel's brief word made the little princess grip Euryale's hand all the tighter.

"???"

Euryale felt the strength in Lizbeth's grip and glanced at her curiously, then turned back and continued licking at the blood vial in her hand, which was none other than Riezel's blood.

Euryale seemed to favor it greatly, as ever since Riezel had handed her the vial, she had become utterly taken with it—savoring it in small sips, allowing herself to be led by Riezel and Lizbeth out of the tomb chamber.

Riezel cast Euryale a glance before taking her from Lizbeth's hand, keeping her close by his side.

"Go."

Riezel urged Lizbeth once more.

Lizbeth drew in a deep breath, then gave a firm nod.

"Yes!"

With that, the little princess carried Moslow up the altar steps.

*Bzzz—!*

Moslow seemed to sense something and began to stir, which drew not only Riezel's attention but also Euryale's.

Euryale looked at Moslow in Lizbeth's arms, and after a while, a trace of confusion—perhaps even nostalgia—flickered within her ruby-like eyes.

Unfortunately, neither Riezel nor Lizbeth noticed, as both of them kept their eyes fixed on the trembling Moslow, faintly sensing its excitement—its eagerness to plunge into the hole.

Lizbeth held Moslow tightly, unwilling to let it slip free, yet before long, she loosened her grip and willingly drew Moslow from its sheath.

*Bzzz—!*

Moslow quivered sharply, and a faint radiance began to ripple along its edge.

On closer inspection, mysterious runes surfaced upon Moslow's body within that glow—clearly the seals binding Moslow, which proved that this holy sword had indeed been sealed, unable to display its former brilliance.

Riezel did not know why the Reinnail Clan had chosen to seal their own holy sword.

Perhaps only Euryale, in life, would have known—but with her memories gone, even at the sight of the runes upon Moslow, she showed no special reaction.

Lizbeth could only hold Moslow and glance back at Riezel.

Riezel calmly nodded at her, his eyes filled with encouragement.

Seeing this, Lizbeth drew back her gaze and fixed it on Moslow as memories rose unbidden in her mind.

She recalled the time in the Mavros Territory when she had been captured by a magic doll, powerless until Riezel rescued her.

She recalled when Riezel was swallowed whole by the Underground Demon Beast Yarakulon, and she could only wait helplessly outside.

And now, during this journey into this ancient ruin, it was Riezel who had acted again and again, while she had nearly failed to deal even with a few magic dolls.

Even though she was his attendant—meant to protect him—it had always been him who protected her, shielding her and bringing her this far.

In her eyes, this wasn't right.

What kind of master had to protect their attendant?

If an attendant could not protect their master and instead needed to be protected, what use was such an attendant?

All these thoughts always filled Lizbeth's heart with guilt, self-blame, and dissatisfaction toward herself.

It went without saying that, compared to Riezel, she was still too weak.

What of being a descendant of the Hero Clan?

What of being a princess?

None of that mattered to her.

In the first place, she had never considered her status noble, nor that she should accept Riezel's protection, since to her, she had always been only his attendant.

Even if she sought her lineage and the truth of her birth, it was not for the sake of standing high above others as a member of the Hero Clan.

'If there really is some bloodline in my body, then awaken.'

'If Moslow truly has a seal, then break it.'

'Grant me the strength to be a proper attendant, to be useful for my master.'

Lizbeth stated the truest wish in her heart.

At this moment, what she wanted was not to be a hero, nor to become someone exalted, but to be no longer a burden and to be of use to him.

*Clang!*

With such sincerity, Lizbeth drove Moslow down into the altar's hole, plunging its blade deep.

"..."

In an instant, the hall fell into an unspeakable silence.

Riezel, Lizbeth, and Euryale all lifted their heads toward the altar that had lain still for several dozen seconds before at last stirring.

*Zing—*

A pale radiance seeped from the hole where Moslow was thrust.

Like light leaking through cracks in stone, it slowly spread across Moslow.

Like light rising from the depths of the earth, it ascended bit by bit.

It crept, stretched, and spread across the altar—as if guided by an unseen hand—gradually sketching out lines.

Before long, a vast, intricate geometric pattern took shape upon the altar—an enormous magic circle.

Centered upon Lizbeth and Moslow, the magic circle began to rotate slowly.

*Buzzz—!*

Suddenly, boundless light surged from the magic circle and shot toward the ceiling.

"Master!"

Startled by the sudden phenomenon, Lizbeth cried out instinctively, only to be swallowed by the endless light.

"Lizbeth!"

Riezel, heart clenched, tried to rush forward into the glow—but then, the hand clasping his suddenly tightened.

Startled, Riezel turned and saw Euryale no longer sipping from the vial, her red eyes fixed firmly on him as her hand gripped his tightly, holding him in place without a word.

He struggled, but Euryale showed no intention of letting go.

"You…"

Riezel's expression shifted slightly as he met her gaze.

"?"

Euryale tilted her head, looking puzzled.

"..."

Seeing her like this, Riezel was left speechless.

In the end, as Riezel relaxed, yielding to Euryale's pull and staying where he stood, she immediately loosened her grip.

Together, they looked into the dazzling radiance—one with eyes glimmering clear, the other with eyes glowing red.

Under their gaze, the light rising from the altar seemed to be consumed, bit by bit absorbed.

Moslow drank in the light.

Lizbeth also drank in the light, lifting from the ground and floating aloft.

"Lizbeth!"

Riezel called out reflexively, but Lizbeth, whose eyes had closed at some point, gave no reply.

Lizbeth floated within the light as if in slumber, absorbing its brilliance—flames seemed to ignite upon her until she was shrouded by a cloak of radiant fire.

Soon enough, the light-flame burned against Lizbeth's body, slowly sheathing her body in a layer of luminescence.

*BOOM!*

At last, the flame flared violently, consuming every shred of Lizbeth's clothing.

In the next second, an immense surge of magical energy erupted from Lizbeth's body, forming a storm that swept across the entire altar.

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