The dungeon did not collapse.
That alone unsettled everyone.
Atelion stood at the center of the chamber, breathing steadily, his hand
still resting against the fading sigil where the core had been. The light was
gone now. No roar. No tremor. No triumphant explosion like the stories
promised.
Just silence.
Saod was the first to move. He scanned the chamber, spear ready, eyes sharp.
"Something's wrong," he said. "Dungeons don't end quietly."
"They do when they're acknowledged," Atelion replied.
Both Saod and the others turned to him.
"Acknowledged?" the mage repeated, brows knitting. He didn't hide the spark
in his eyes—curiosity mixed with rivalry. "You speak like you didn't conquer
it… but conversed with it."
Atelion didn't answer.
Because he didn't fully know himself.
Inside him, the newly formed first Star-Circle rotated
slowly. Not violently. Not hungrily. It existed as if it had always been there,
slotting into place with unsettling naturalness. Mana flowed around it, not
resisting, not submitting—coexisting.
No backlash.
No instability.
No price demanded.
That alone should have terrified him.
But it didn't.
What concerned him instead was what he felt outside.
Something deep beneath the dungeon's foundation had stirred—not awakened,
not broken free, but noticed. Like an ancient eye opening for a
fraction of a second before closing again.
Atelion withdrew his hand.
"We leave," he said. "Now."
No one argued.
They emerged into daylight an hour later.
The sky looked the same. The forest breathed as it always had. Birds still
called. Yet the mage felt it immediately—mana density around the area had
shifted, subtle but undeniable.
"This place is different," he muttered. "Like the land… adjusted itself."
Saod glanced at Atelion. "You didn't just clear a dungeon, did you?"
Atelion met his gaze. "No."
He did not elaborate.
He didn't need to.
Far away, beyond borders and kingdoms, a sealed hall etched with divine
arrays pulsed once.
A hooded figure paused mid-incantation.
"…Interesting," she murmured.
Elsewhere, within the capital of the empire, Eniola stirred from uneasy
sleep. For the briefest moment, the chains around her heart tightened—then
loosened again.
She frowned, hand pressing against her chest.
Something had shifted.
And she hated not knowing why.
Back on the road, the mage finally broke the silence.
"You're ahead of me now," he said bluntly, eyes sharp. No resentment. No
fear. Only challenge. "But I'll catch up."
Atelion nodded once. "I expect you to."
Saod smirked. "You're both monsters."
Atelion said nothing.
Because monsters were noticed.
And gods—
were remembered.
The Star-Circle turned once more.
Unseen.
Unannounced.
And the world quietly recalculated.