He touched the wall. His Strength of 335 meant he could probably create craters in solid stone with casual punches.
And his Intelligence of 320 meant his tactical mind was operating at levels approaching true genius. Combat Analysis would process patterns even faster. Elemental Manipulation would respond with near-instant precision.
[My my, little seed. Look at you now. Stage 2-4 with stats that exceed most Stage 2-5 cultivators. You're becoming something MAGNIFICENT~]
"Combined stats," Don muttered, running calculations.
Without Valdris's Oath: 335 Strength, 337 Agility
With Valdris's Oath: 835 Strength, 637 Agility
Those numbers were absurd. Stage 3 territory. Sovereign-level physical power.
And he was only Stage 2-4.
Don stepped down from the dais, his enhanced body moving with fluid grace that felt almost supernatural. Every movement was optimized. Every step perfectly balanced. His awareness of his own physical form had reached mastery level.
He could feel the difference in everything. His four Executioner's Edge blades would move faster now. His Elemental Manipulation would be more precise. His Combat Analysis would process enemy patterns in seconds instead of minutes.
The King's Blessing hadn't just made him stronger.
It had made him complete.
Section Five: The Secret Chamber.
Don explored the sanctuary's perimeter systematically, his enhanced Sense—still pathetically low at 5, but augmented by his increased Intelligence and Wisdom—detecting subtle variations in the stone.
He found it behind the library.
A section of wall that looked identical to the rest but felt different. Wrong temperature. Different acoustic properties when he tapped it. A hidden seam invisible to normal eyes.
Don pressed his palm against a specific carved stone—one that depicted the Valdris crown.
The wall groaned and slid aside, revealing a narrow passage leading to a small chamber beyond.
The inscription above the doorway read:
"My final words. My final thoughts. My final warning. Read this when all else has been discovered. - Aldric"
Don entered carefully.
The chamber was tiny—barely three meters across. It contained only a simple wooden desk, a chair worn smooth by use, and a single leather-bound journal resting on the desk's surface.
Don picked up the journal reverently. The leather was soft, well-maintained by preservation magic. The pages were filled with handwriting that started neat and composed but gradually became shakier, more desperate.
He opened to the first entry, dated:
"Day 1 of the Siege: They came from within. Cassius betrayed us. That bastard actually did it—opened the gates to GOBLINS. My knights are fighting in the streets. The screaming... gods, the screaming won't stop."
"I've sent Elara and Lyanna to the deep vaults. They should be safe there. They MUST be safe there. Please, if any god is listening, protect my family."
Don continued reading. The entries chronicled the fall of Valdris in brutal detail:
"Day 2: We're losing. Half the city is burning. Sir Gareth fell this morning—twenty goblins mobbed him after he killed forty. Died like a hero. Died screaming."
"The gates are breached. They're pouring through. Thousands. Where did they even COME from? This isn't a raid—it's an INVASION."
"Lady Seraphine just brought news: the vaults were compromised. Elara and Lyanna are... they're..."
The handwriting stopped for several lines. When it resumed, it was barely legible:
"Day 3: I am writing this in the sanctuary before I go back up. I know I won't survive. A coward would run. A coward would hide here and live. But I'm a KING. My people are dying. My family is... gone. And I will die with my kingdom."
"But before I go, I must record what I've learned. Because if you're reading this—if you made it this far—then you deserve to know the TRUTH about Uzgoth."
Don's yellow eye narrowed as he turned the page.
"The goblin leader calls himself Uzgoth the Devourer. He's Stage 3—level 5, possibly higher. I've seen him kill fifty knights with his bare hands in under a minute. His four arms move faster than the eye can follow. His strength is MONSTROUS."
"But I've also noticed something. Something CRITICAL."
"His CROWN."
"It's made from melted-down weapons and crowns of his victims—I recognized fragments of the Northmarch King's circlet in there, along with pieces of the Hero Seldrick's legendary blade. He's been collecting them for CENTURIES."
"But it's more than trophy. I've watched him in battle. When he wears the crown, he radiates power—his aura is CRUSHING, his strength seems limitless. But there was a moment—just ONE moment—when he removed it briefly to adjust it after a fight."
"His presence DIMINISHED. Not disappeared—he was still Stage 3—but it became... manageable. Like the crown was AMPLIFYING him somehow."
"I've been fighting this war for three days. I've studied this monster. And I believe—though I cannot prove—that the crown is a CATALYST. It channels power from all the souls he's consumed over centuries. Every victim's essence, trapped in those melted fragments, forced to serve him."
The handwriting became even more frantic:
"It's not just decoration. It's not even just armor. It's his POWER SOURCE."
"The crown is FUSED to his skull—I've seen it. He didn't just wear it. At some point, he BONDED with it. The metal has grown into his bone. It's part of him now."
"But that means it's also his WEAKNESS."
"If you can destroy the crown—if you can SHATTER it—you'll sever his connection to all those accumulated souls. He'll still be Stage 3. Still incredibly dangerous. But he'll be MORTAL again. Killable."
"The crown is everything. EVERYTHING. Target it. Break it. Whatever it takes."
The entry continued:
"I've tried to tell my knights. Sir Gareth is dead. Lady Seraphine is dead. Brother Matthias is dead. Sir Roland is missing—probably dead. Everyone who could have used this information is GONE."
"So I'm writing it here. For whoever comes next. For whoever is human enough to enter this sanctuary but strong enough to face Uzgoth."
"Break his crown. Shatter it if you can. That's his weakness. That's how you kill him."
The final entry was written in barely-controlled handwriting:
"I'm leaving now. Going back up. Going to die. I know this. But I'll die fighting. I'll die as a KING."
"Whoever you are—human who reads this—thank you for coming. Thank you for caring enough to enter this sanctuary. Thank you for seeking vengeance on our behalf."
"Destroy the monsters. Reclaim our kingdom. And if you can... say a prayer for my family. For Elara. For Lyanna. For all of us who fell."
"Long live Valdris."
"Long live hope."
The journal ended there.
Don closed it carefully, his Emotion Suppression filtering away any grief or sentimentality. But his tactical mind had already filed away the critical information:
The Sovereign's weakness = The Crown
Destroy it, and Uzgoth would lose significant power. He'd still be Stage 3-5—still incredibly dangerous—but without the accumulated essence of centuries of victims, he'd be vulnerable.
Don stored the journal in his Spatial Storage Ring alongside the cultivation manual.
He had everything he needed now:
1. Valdris's Oath (S-Rank weapon - +500 STR, +300 AGI)
2. Royal Essence Art (Stage 3 advancement guide)
3. King's Blessing (+50 all stats permanently)
4. Knowledge of Uzgoth's weakness (Crown = power source)
5. 30,070 Kill Points for supplies
6. Potential additional funds (65,000 KP if he sold gold/gems)
And most importantly—time to prepare properly.
Don turned toward the sanctuary exit. The inscriptions glowed as he passed, ancient magic acknowledging his departure.
The chamber had one final message carved above the exit:
"Go forth, Champion. Carry our will. Avenge our dead. Reclaim what was stolen. And may the gods protect you where they failed to protect us."
Don climbed the stairs back to the surface, his enhanced stats making the ascent effortless. What had been a challenging climb before now felt trivial.
He emerged from the dungeons into the ruins of Valdris Capital. The crimson twilight of the Abyss cast long shadows across broken stone and scattered bones.
Don found a defensible location—a partially intact tower with good sightlines and a single easily-defended entrance. The structure was solid enough to withstand his training exercises.
Perfect.
He settled into the tower's upper chamber, pulled the Royal Essence Art from his storage, and began to read in earnest.
[So, little seed. What now? Back to hunting immediately? Or will you actually be PATIENT for once~?]
"Prepare," Don said, opening the manual to the first chapter. "Study Stage 2 mastery completely. Achieve perfect control. Then advance to Stage 3 using the Crucible Transcendence technique."
[How long will that take?]
"One week for study and practice. Seven days for the advancement itself. Three days for stabilization."
Don's enhanced Intelligence processed the timeline. "Seventeen days total to reach Stage 3 with minimal sacrifice."
[And THEN?]
"Then," Don said, his mismatched eyes glowing in the dim light, "I hunt the final three Generals. And when they're dead..."
He touched Valdris's Oath resting against his back.
"I take the Sovereign's head."
[And his CROWN~]
"And his crown."