Helheim, a world shrouded in death and ice-cold stillness. Everything here was stained in shades of black and white, as though even time itself had been stripped of its rightful colors.
And yet, in this world where everything was reduced to stark contrasts, Ian still retained his natural colors. This was clearly because he had not been influenced by the power of this realm.
Although every living being in this land had been deprived of flesh and magic, reduced to monochrome shadows, Ian, the young legendary wizard, remained completely unscathed.
His very presence was jarringly out of place in this dead and silent world.
Not only had his magic not been stripped away, even his physical body was perfectly intact. There wasn't even the slightest trace of discomfort, a sharp contrast to Merlin, who now existed only as a soul.
It was no wonder Merlin was so shocked.
Anyone with a sound mind would have realized something was wrong.
"How is this possible…?" Merlin murmured softly, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing. He knew the laws of Helheim all too well: any living being that set foot here, regardless of their strength, was bound to obey the rules of this world.
"Uh…"
Ian lowered his head to look at his hand. The ghostly wind of the underworld howled around him, bringing with it a faint chill. Yet it didn't dull the sensitivity of his fingers in the slightest.
"I don't know either." Ian blinked innocently, feigning confusion. "I'm just a twelve-year-old wizard, still a kid. How could I possibly understand Helheim?"
"In fact, this is the first time I've even traveled far from home these past few days. At my age, I should be bullying other students at school right now…"
Ian was far from naïve.
Still, he was telling the truth. His expression was sincere, and there was a genuine trace of confusion in his eyes.
To put it simply, Ian was truly at a loss, he had no understanding of this place whatsoever.
After all…
This realm might represent the past in Merlin's eyes, but for Ian, it symbolized an unknown future. It was a world filled with mystery, a place so foreign that he couldn't even fathom why he had brought it into existence.
Could it be that he had really died and built himself a tomb with his own hands?
Ian felt no fear at that thought. Instead, his curiosity only deepened. He was not the sort of wizard who refused to accept the end of life.
To him, death was merely a new beginning.
Ian believed that more firmly than anyone.
"You know how to open the gates but don't even know where this is? Hmm? You really don't know?"
Merlin stared into Ian's eyes, searching for even the slightest trace of deception. But Ian's gaze was clear and honest, showing no hint of a lie. Merlin's gift of prophecy confirmed the boy's sincerity, he was not hiding anything and that realization made Merlin's expression grow even more astonished.
"What a strange little fellow…" Merlin muttered, but chose not to press further.
Instead, he cast Ian a long, complicated glance, his eyes flickering with something difficult to decipher.
"Follow me." He turned his gaze toward the distance and began walking.
The demigod-level wizard's movements were noticeably cautious now, his eyes glowing faintly with light. It was clear he had fully activated his prophetic sight, desperately trying to foresee any danger lurking ahead.
In this land where legends lay buried, even Merlin dared not show the slightest carelessness or neglect. Perhaps his magic had been stripped away, but his abilities had not.
Like Morgan, his cognition itself was a manifestation of the soul's authority. And, of course, there was that faint trace of special bloodline that made Merlin's soul different from that of an ordinary wizard.
"Is there really treasure here?"
Ian followed closely behind Merlin as he thought of this. It wasn't that he didn't believe in adventure stories; he just didn't trust human dignity. In his opinion, only a fool would go to the trouble of burying themselves with riches.
Wealth unspent in life isn't truly wealth at all.
"Yes. I have reliable information," Merlin replied but didn't elaborate. They pressed forward along a winding path that stretched into the distance. All around them was a lifeless world: beneath a gray-white sky, the pitch-black earth bore no sign of life.
The oppressive stillness seemed to weigh on them like an invisible shroud, every step feeling as if it led them closer to an abyss. The bone-chilling wind made Merlin's soul appear even more translucent.
Ian, on the other hand, merely tightened his cloak around his body. To him, it felt like sitting in an air-conditioned room set too cold. He stayed close behind Merlin, his eyes scanning their surroundings carefully.
It was obvious he was using Merlin as a buffer against danger, keeping his pace perfectly in sync with the archmage so that he remained within Merlin's sphere of protection at all times.
It might have seemed a bit shameless, but it was undeniably wise.
After all, Merlin the Grand Sorcerer was easily the best shield one could ask for. And honestly, Ian didn't even need to see the future to imagine a thousand ways he'd guard his own tomb against grave robbers.
If he were being honest with himself, how could he not tread carefully here?
"This is strange… No traps, no tomb guardians," Ian muttered. The further they went without encountering danger, the more uneasy he felt.
"You know something?" Merlin glanced back at the young wizard.
Ian looked around at the barren landscape before speaking. "No, I'm just guessing. But if it were me, I'd definitely pack my tomb with a thousand nasty surprises."
His words gave Merlin pause. The sorcerer's expression shifted, and his wary gaze swept their surroundings with renewed suspicion.
"Indeed… it's far too quiet. This isn't what I expected. I thought we'd run into Silent Wraiths here, yet I haven't even seen a single animal soul," Merlin said, frowning, his voice heavy with unease. His fingers were already forming a complex sigil, ready to unleash magic at a moment's notice.
"Silent Wraiths? What do you mean?"
Ian raised a curious brow at the familiar name. Not long ago, he'd encountered those sinister creatures back in the ruins of Pompeii.
"I've studied them a bit. Medivh once commanded a goddess of fate and kept a brood of Silent Wraiths. But no one knows what purpose he intended for them," Merlin explained.
"I assumed he used them to guard his tomb…" Merlin clearly had done extensive research on this tomb and its master, but it was obvious now that much of his theory might not hold true.
"Uh… when you say 'commanded,' do you mean the kind of 'commanding' I'm thinking of? You sure that was… proper?"
Ian's focus was elsewhere, causing Merlin to fall silent for a moment, utterly at a loss for words.
"Anyway, stay alert," Merlin sighed, feeling as though there was some kind of communication barrier between himself and Ian. Perhaps this was simply the inevitable disconnect between people from two different eras.
'How could this boy still care about frivolous matters at a time like this?'
"I am being careful," Ian muttered while practically hiding in Merlin's shadow. All along the way, he'd been layering protective charms on himself. He honestly didn't know how he could possibly be any more cautious.
Just then, the path ahead suddenly split into two completely different roads.
One was still steeped in black and white, while the other seemed to shimmer faintly with threads of color, as if beckoning them forward with a mysterious allure.
Merlin stopped, his brow furrowing deeply as he hesitated. The faint glow in his eyes flickered rapidly, evidence of his prophetic sight working overtime.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes passed, and yet even Merlin's formidable gift of foresight seemed hindered in this place.
His expression grew heavier by the moment, clearly frustrated by the lack of useful insight.
"What do you think?" He finally turned to consult the enigmatic boy at his side.
"Which road should we take?" Merlin asked, his tone probing. He couldn't shake the feeling that Ian was hiding some crucial knowledge, perhaps the boy could help choose the right path.
Ian studied the two roads carefully, weighing his thoughts.
"I think… they're both dead ends. If it were me, that's exactly how I'd design it," Ian said softly, though his voice carried a trace of uncertainty.
"Hmm." Merlin's expression grew even graver at that.
He found Ian's reasoning disturbingly plausible.
"I can't see the right direction." Even as Merlin poured every ounce of focus into his prophecy, he was forced to sigh again in defeat moments later.
"Let me try…" Ian stepped forward. He inspected the two seemingly endless paths, then hesitated, raising his wand with some uncertainty.
Then, Ian flicked his wand lightly. In the next instant, the two opposing roads dissolved into nothingness. Ahead of them, a brand-new path formed where there had been none.
(To Be Continued…)
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