Adrien and Vera exchanged a quick, meaningful look. Stepping forward, Adrien offered a smooth, respectful bow, which Vera immediately mirrored.
"It is an honour to meet you, Your Imperial Highness, Jewel of the Nemanyid Empire," Adrien said, keeping his voice carefully measured. "My name is Adrien, and this is my companion, Vera. We must humbly apologise for keeping our helmets on. The dungeon air is thick, and we fear it is unsafe for the living to breathe."
The spirit tilted her head, her tattered silk gown rippling like smoke. "Well met. I understand your caution, and I cannot fault you for it."
Vera stepped up beside Adrien, her eyes darting toward the shadows at the edge of the chamber. "Your Imperial Highness, if I may be bold... the corpse over there, beside the destroyed automaton. Is that yours?"
Princess Jefimija let out a long, hollow sigh, the green light of her aura flickering. "Yes. Unfortunately, an enemy ambush forced our group to scatter. I fled down here, only to fall prey to a wretched trap and that iron monstrosity."
"I am sorry for making you relive that—" Vera began.
Jefimija waved a translucent hand, brushing the apology aside. "There is no need. My concern is not for the dead, but the living. My fiancé is still trapped deeper within this place, and he requires aid. As do my classmates and our teacher."
Vera frowned beneath her visor. "How long has it been since your group entered this dungeon?"
"A couple of days at most," the princess replied sharply. "Which is exactly why you must hurry."
Adrien and Vera stared at each other in the dim light, as behind the ghost, the state of the princess's corpse told a completely different story. Thick layers of dust covered the bones, and the tattered clothing had practically rotted away. A couple of days? It had been decades, if not centuries.
"Do you know where they might be hiding?" Adrien asked, breaking the tense silence.
The ghost's posture stiffened, her eyes flaring with sudden, defensive indignation. "No! I understand why you ask, but this dungeon is twisted. It holds my spirit bound to this place. Otherwise, do you truly think I would be standing here begging for your help? Do you take me for an incompetent fool?"
"Of course not," Adrien said quickly, holding up his hands to placate her. "An accomplished mage of your stature? If you were considered incompetent, then the word has no meaning. We only want to ensure we don't walk blindly into the ambush. Why did your group enter this place to begin with, and where did the attack happen?"
Jefimija smoothed her gown, her anger simmering back down into regal solemnity. "Our teacher, Saint LoveGroove, consulted ancient texts and deduced that a lost city of our ancestors lay beneath these mountains. Naturally, we followed him to study a once-in-a-generation historical find. As for the ambush, do not bother looking for it. We entered through a sealed, noble gateway on the opposite side of the hill. Your entrance is completely different—though, a rather strange lady did wander in from your direction shortly before you arrived."
"A strange lady?" Adrien couldn't help but press.
"Yes," Jefimija replied, her spectral brow furrowing. "She entered through the same passage you did. Or rather, someone forced her through it and sealed the doors shut from the outside. The man was gloating quite loudly about it."
Vera stepped closer, her breath catching. "Did you catch any names? Or any identifying features?"
Jefimija fell silent, her glowing form dimming slightly as she searched her memories. "Of course I remember. It only happened yesterday. The woman's name was Danica Lavović, and the beast who shoved her into this tomb was mocking her, laughing at how easily she had been fooled. She was weeping, begging him to stop. She kept crying out for a man named Miloš, telling him she loved him, but he just laughed, and he slammed the heavy stone doors shut and yelled that both she and the bastard in her womb would be better off dead."
Adrien and Vera quickly exchanged a sharp, knowing glance, as a cold shiver ran down Adrien's spine.
'Yesterday? According to the game lore they had uncovered during their quest line, Danica and Miloš lived five centuries ago, but to this ghost, a five-hundred-year-old historical tragedy was a fresh memory from twenty-four hours prior.'
"I see," Adrien said, forcing his voice to remain steady despite the sudden weight of the game's lore settling over them. "So... where did she die?"
Jefimija tilted her head, looking genuinely puzzled. "Oh? Did you two come here searching for her? If so, you are too late. She has already escaped this place."
"What?" The duo gasped in unison.
"She escaped?" Adrien asked, leaning forward. The game lore had never mentioned Danica surviving.
"How? When?"
Jefimija's features instantly darkened, the green flare of her aura snapping back to life. "Are you doubting my words, traveller?"
"No, no, of course not!" Adrien placated quickly, raising his gauntlets in apology. "I am just shocked. Navigating a high-level dungeon like this alone, without any support... we never heard about her possessing that kind of martial or magical prowess."
"Navigating the dungeon?" Jefimija's tense posture relaxed a fraction, a cold, hollow smile touching her lips. "Ah. It seems we have a misunderstanding."
She glided a few inches closer, the tattered silk of her gown trailing through the centuries of dust.
"At first, when she was thrown inside, she lay on the cold stone, weeping on her knees. I felt a pang of pity for her, betrayed so cruelly by the lover she trusted. I attempted to approach her, intending to offer counsel and perhaps guide her to safety, but the moment I drew near, she completely changed."
Jefimija's voice dropped to a low, ringing whisper, "Her helpless, weeping visage vanished, replaced by something utterly fierce. Before I could even speak, she drew a glowing relic from her robes, shattered it, and vanished into thin air. She teleported out of the dungeon entirely."
'She teleported…'
Adrien's mind reeled. 'How is that possible? If Danica escaped this dungeon, she had ample time to save her kingdom. She could have saved her loyal retainers trapped inside the barrier. Why did she abandon them? Why did she let Kyros and the others suffer and degenerate into monsters? How could she?'
A sharp nudge to his ribs shattered his thoughts. Vera glared at him, subtly gesturing toward the hovering ghost.
"Forgive me," Adrien stammered, pulling himself together. "I lost my train of thought."
Jefimija waved a translucent hand, her impatience flaring, "Are you going to fulfil my request, or do you intend to stand there wasting my precious time?"
"Of course we want to help, but..." Adrien hesitated.
"But what?" Jefimija's voice took on a sharp, dangerous edge.
"My Lady, we have never heard of the Nemanyid Empire," Vera said carefully. "Could you perhaps point us in its direction?"
"Are you two touched in the head?" Jefimija growled, her aura snapping with green sparks. "You are standing on the very soil ruled by my bloodline, and you dare ask me where to find my empire?"
There it was. Her outrage provided the final, heartbreaking proof of their suspicion. Jefimija had absolutely no concept of the passage of time. To her, the world outside this room was exactly as she left it.
"My Lady, please, calm yourself," Vera intervened, her voice soft and placating. "We truly want to aid you, but we have hit a massive obstacle."
"What obstacle? If the task is beyond your meagre abilities, go and request reinforcements from my family's court!"
"About that..." Adrien stepped forward, measuring every syllable to keep the spirit from turning hostile. "Please, brace yourself. We have some incredibly grim news to share."
Jefimija hovered in place, her expression shifting to one of sudden, guarded hesitation. "What news?"
"Five hundred years ago, Danica Lavović, a Princess of the Holy Aslanic Empire, went missing just as her realm was fracturing into a violent civil war," Adrien explained softly. "The last recorded historical mention of her was when she was trapped here by her lover, Miloš von Vane. The woman you met... it didn't happen yesterday, My Lady. It happened five centuries ago."
"You lie," Jefimija whispered, her form trembling.
"Furthermore, that Holy Aslanic Empire went on to rule this region for nearly seven hundred years before it, too, fell," Adrien pressed on, determined to break the delusion before her magic tore them apart.
"Today, these lands belong to the Hasea Kingdom. I have no records of any empires existing before them. My Lady... you are at least twelve hundred years too late to save anyone. We are so sorry."
"No, no, no..." Jefimija chanted like a mantra, her spectral body flickering violently as her reality began to unravel.
Vera delivered the final, undeniable blow. "My Lady, please, just look at your own remains. Does it look like someone who died a few days ago?"
Jefimija went completely rigid. Slowly, her glowing eyes drifted down to the dust-covered bones resting against the ruined automaton, as she stared at the decayed silk, the exposed ribs, the centuries of rot.A piercing, unearthly wail tore from her throat.
"NO!"
An oppressive, otherworldly pressure flattened the room. The ambient temperature plummeted instantly, frosting over Adrien and Vera's armour and sending a bone-chilling shiver straight through their character models. Then, with a blinding flash of emerald light, Jefimija vanished, leaving nothing behind but the fading echo of her distant, tortured wailing.