Her fingers felt the rough texture of the stone parapet, cold and stable. Inside her head, Mara was still replaying that moment: Lumi's small smile, the words "Ghost Mama tried," and the strange feeling in her chest that was neither victory nor shame. Something softer, more fragile.
Today we'll make better soup, she had resolved this morning. Or at least one that doesn't look like toxic waste. But Lazarus's task list was already waiting in the library—inventory reports, alternative trade route analysis, projections of the Church blockade's impact. Her head, which used to calculate cooldowns and damage output, was now filled with supply numbers and discount percentages.
Then, something pulled hard on the edge of her cloak. Hard.
Nyxaria turned. Lumi was there, her white hair disheveled by the morning wind, her pale face serious. She was wearing again the black-red cloak she dragged around, its ends wet with dew. The child wasn't looking at her, but pointing straight toward the forest, her tiny finger steady like a compass finding its pole.
"There's a glowing box underground," Lumi said, her voice flat and clear in the morning silence. "A good box."
Her heterochromic eyes—gold and gray—blinked once, as if focusing on something invisible.
Glowing box. Mara, inside, immediately went on alert. Loot. She's seeing loot hidden by the system. Eight thousand hours of gamer instinct woke up all at once, burying administrative fatigue. Dungeon? Hidden room? Rare chest that was missed?
"Where?" Nyxaria asked, her voice lower than usual.
Lumi only nodded toward the forest. "Walk. Through the tree whose trunk is bent like an upside-down number seven." She pulled the cloak again, harder this time. "Now."
The morning wind carried whispers of leaves and the aroma of damp earth. In the distance, beyond the fog, the shapes of large trees appeared like silent guards. Nyxaria didn't need [Realm Census] to feel it—no signs of troops, no large aura traps. Only old forest, and something within it emitting a signal that could only be caught by the eyes of a child anomaly.
"Alright," she said. She turned, her cloak spinning slowly. "We'll bring Seris. And maybe Lazarus, if he's not being... overly dramatic."
This is what I need, Mara thought, while her feet were already moving toward the corridor. Not meetings. Not negotiations. Exploration. Puzzle. Loot. Her heart, which was no longer a human heart but something more complex, quickened. A nearly forgotten rhythm.
Seris was checking the eastern perimeter when they found her. The elf stood on a low rock, her sharp eyes sweeping the tree line, her right hand relaxed near her dagger hilt. She turned when she heard their footsteps, her eyebrows raised when she saw Lumi's enthusiastic (if flat) expression and Nyxaria's 'exploration' outfit that had unconsciously changed—her cloak slightly more practical, her silver hair tied loosely, shoulder guards that were usually ornate now appeared lighter.
"We're going treasure hunting," Nyxaria said before Seris could ask. "Lumi detected an anomaly."
Seris jumped down from the rock, landing soundlessly. "What kind of anomaly? Player trap? Or…"
"Glowing box," Lumi explained, staring at Seris with an intensity that made the elf step back slightly. "Shining very brightly. But hidden below."
Seris looked at Nyxaria. "My Lord, that area is outside the Aegis radius. There's a possibility of player patrols, or mid-level monsters that have migrated."
"Then your presence is required," Nyxaria answered. "And we'll bring Lazarus. His ritual knowledge might be useful for ancient seals, if that's what we're facing."
They found the necromancer in the library, immersed in piles of parchment about Shadow-Stag migration patterns. When informed about the "treasure hunt expedition based on visions from a glitch child oracle," Lazarus's face changed from confused to very excited, then to dramatically worried.
"My Lord! Adventure in wild areas full of danger! Allow me to bring the Grimoire of Unbinding and three scout skulls! And perhaps some—"
"Just the grimoire," Seris cut in, her voice flat. "We're not attacking a fortress."
Lazarus frowned, but complied. He took a large dark leather book bound with gut strings that seemed to still pulse faintly, then followed them to the main gate.
Leaving Obsidian Aegis felt like entering a different room. The atmospheric pressure changed—no longer dense and protective, but more open, more wild. The forest air felt fresher, sharper, full of small life sounds previously held back by the barrier. Nyxaria walked in front, Lumi gripping her cloak tightly beside her, while Seris and Lazarus kept a distance of several steps behind, their eyes constantly watching the surroundings.
Lumi led. She didn't hesitate. Occasionally she stopped, head tilted, that dead gray eye as if scanning something in the air. Then she pointed in a certain direction, and they walked again. They passed "the tree whose trunk is bent like an upside-down number seven"—a giant oak that indeed grew strangely, its roots gripping a large rock like claws. They entered a denser part of the forest, where sunlight was filtered into interrupted golden curtains.
"Close," Lumi suddenly whispered. She stopped in front of a large mound of earth covered with moss and vines. Nothing special—just one of many mounds in the forest. But Lumi pointed precisely to its center. "Here. The box... is pulsing."
Nyxaria approached. She extended her hand, not to touch the ground, but to feel the mana flow around it. [Corruption Trace] was inactive—no major corruption source. But there was something. A subtle misalignment, like one off-key note in a symphony of nature. She concentrated, and a deeper layer of reality began to open in her perception.
Below that mound, about ten meters underground, there was a stone structure. Small. Fragile. And there was a box—a chest—emitting a soft pale purple aura, trapped in a network of nearly extinguished seals.
"There's a space below," Nyxaria said, pulling back her hand. "Sealed. But the seal is almost depleted."
"Allow me, My Lord!" Lazarus stepped forward, his grimoire already open. His green eyes glowed as he flipped pages. "Ah... Temporal Restraint Seal, ancient variant. Built to lock something not from space, but from the system maintenance time cycle. Very sophisticated... for current standards." He frowned. "But its power is almost depleted. Perhaps only a few more weeks before it collapses completely."
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"Can we open it?" Seris asked, her hand still on the dagger hilt.
"Carefully," Lazarus answered. He began reciting a low rhythmic incantation, his fingers tracing complex patterns in the air that left pale green light trails. "We don't want to trigger a self-destruct mechanism..."
Nyxaria watched, but her mind was elsewhere. Temporal Seal. Locking something from the system cycle. This... isn't an ordinary storage place. This is like a dump site. Or... storage meant to be forgotten.
The ground above the mound began to tremble. Moss and vines dried quickly, turning to dust. Small stones cracked, shifted, then formed a spiral pattern that collapsed inward. A hole opened—not a dark tunnel, but a kind of funnel whose walls were made of smooth stone that glowed softly.
Lumi approached, unafraid. "The door is open. The box is still glowing."
Nyxaria stepped first. [Shadow Step] wasn't needed—stone stairs emerged from the funnel wall, spiraling down into the darkness that was immediately illuminated by pale purple light from below. The rising air felt old, dry, and dusty, but not rotten. The smell of trapped time.
They descended. The space below turned out to be small—only about the size of an ordinary living room. Its walls were of neatly cut stone joined without mortar, decorated with carvings worn by time. The patterns were abstract: spirals, setting suns, trees whose roots spread to the sky. In the center of the room, on a low stone podium, sat the chest.
Not a magnificent treasure chest with golden glitter. This was a simple square box of dark wood that looked ordinary, bound with dull metal straps. But the aura it emitted... that's what made Lazarus draw a sharp breath and Seris take a defensive stance.
"Pure power concentration," Lazarus whispered. "But... feels different. Not modern magic. This is more... primordial."
Nyxaria approached. On the chest's surface, almost invisible, was a series of lightly engraved symbols. Not ordinary writing. This was code. A combination of numbers and simple geometric patterns.
And Mara recognized it.
That... that's the chest unlock pattern from the Aeternum Online collaboration event with the ancient puzzle game 'Chrono-Cipher' three years ago. Her heart pounded hard. Limited-time event. Only lasted two weeks. The reward... I don't remember, because at that time I was busy healing raids and didn't get to participate. But the pattern... the basic pattern is the same. Four symbols, must be arranged sequentially based on number of angles and prime number principles...
"Lumi," Nyxaria said, turning to the child. "You said you saw a 'secret code' on the wall?"
Lumi nodded, then pointed to the wall behind the chest. There, among the worn carvings, were four symbols that were deeper and clearer: a circle, triangle, hexagon, and a five-pointed star pattern. But not in order.
Medium difficulty level, Mara thought, her gamer instinct fully ignited. Circle = 0 angles. Triangle = 3. Hexagon = 6. Star = 10 if all points counted, but in Chrono-Cipher logic, what's counted are the main outer angles, so 5. The order should be based on increasing number of angles, but with prime number filter... Triangle (3 prime) first, then star (5 prime), then hexagon (6 not prime, skipped?), wait...
She snapped her fingers. Thin purple light formed replicas of those symbols in the air in front of the chest. "The order is based on number of angles, but only symbols with angle counts that are prime numbers are valid. Circle zero—not prime. Skipped. Triangle three—prime. Star five—prime. Hexagon six—not prime. So the order is: triangle, star."
The light symbols rotated, then arranged themselves: triangle, then star. They floated toward the chest, touching the wood surface precisely above the corresponding engravings.
A soft, mechanical, and very satisfying click sounded in that silent room.
The metal strap around the chest rotated by itself, then opened. The lid lifted slightly, releasing a burst of dusty air that glittered with small light particles.
Lazarus could hardly restrain himself from jumping forward. "My Lord! Success! The ancient puzzle yields to your genius!"
Seris approached, alert. "I don't sense a trap. But... there's something strange about that aura now. As if... relieved."
Nyxaria opened the chest lid fully.
Inside, lying on dark blue velvet cloth that was nearly destroyed, was a piece of cloth. Not ordinary cloth—this was a veil, or thin covering, from material that looked like woven night mist and dim starlight. Its color was deep black, but with purple and dark blue hues that changed when viewed from different angles. At its edges, fine embroidery formed patterns of unknown constellations.
No glittering gems. No precious metals. Only a piece of cloth.
But when Nyxaria extended her hand and touched it, something happened.
The cloth melted, not becoming liquid, but becoming colored smoke that encircled her arm, then seeped into her skin. Cold. Very cold, like touching the core of interstellar darkness. And then, knowledge directly entered her mind—not through the system, but through instinct.
[[ARTIFACT REGISTRY]]
[Item Classification: MythicDesignation: Veil of the Forgotten Queen
Primary Function: Concealment AuthorityStatus: Bound to Nyxaria
Registered.]
And with that registry, came understanding. This cloth wasn't just an ordinary disguise tool. It didn't change physical appearance. It hid existence. Nyxaria's ruler aura, her level 999 pressure, signs of her catastrophic power—all could be wrapped, dampened, locked behind an illusion layer that made her feel like an ordinary entity, even to high-level system detection.
This... is perfect, Mara thought, her eyes wide open. For infiltration. For moving among players without triggering mass panic. Or... She remembered her [Mimicry Veil] skill, which changed outer appearance. Imagine combining it with this. Perfect disguise, from level to aura.
"My Lord?" Seris asked, her voice tense. "What happened?"
Nyxaria raised her hand. She didn't concentrate, didn't activate any skill. But suddenly, the aura pressure that always surrounded her—that made Lazarus always bow and Seris occasionally tense—vanished. Extinguished. As if she was only a mid-level NPC, or ordinary player. The room felt lighter, more... normal.
Lazarus gasped. "My Lord... your presence... is gone? But I still see you!"
"Only the aura," Nyxaria said, observing her own hand. Her voice was still the same, but now without the usual echo of authority. "My power remains intact. But the world... won't recognize me as the Demon Queen when I wear this."
She concentrated, and the veil appeared again in her hand, in physical cloth form. She could remove it, store it. It was an item, not a permanent skill.
This is the first mythic loot, Mara thought, and a powerful wave of nostalgia struck. Not from raids, not from killing bosses. From exploration. From solving puzzles. From following clues from a child who could see the world's code. It felt like the old days again. Like when she first explored Aeternum, discovering hidden rooms behind waterfalls, opening chests that gave unique items with stories behind them. Not for statistics, but for utility, for story.
"Good box," Lumi said, who had sat on the stone floor, staring at the now-empty chest with flat satisfaction.
"Yes," Nyxaria answered, and for a moment, her voice sounded almost... warm. "A very good box."
Seris approached the chest, examining its interior. Her hand touched the old velvet cloth, then she flipped it over. Under the cloth, engraved at the wooden bottom, was one very small line of writing, almost unreadable.
"There's writing here," she said. "Ancient Elvish language. 'For the forgotten, from the forgotten.'"
Lazarus bent to look. "'Veil of the Forgotten Queen'... The Forgotten Queen. Perhaps a figure in legend erased from history? Or... an entity deliberately erased by the system?"
Nyxaria held the veil, feeling its cold and smooth texture. From the forgotten. Those words echoed strangely within her. A warning? Or just a statement?
She folded the veil carefully, storing it in her spatial inventory. Its cold sensation disappeared, but her knowledge of how to summon it remained.
"We're leaving," she said, turning toward the stairs. "There's nothing more to take here."
But when they turned, Lumi didn't move. The child was still sitting, staring at the wall across from the chest, where the symbols had been engraved. Her gold and gray eyes blinked rapidly.
"There's more," Lumi whispered. "Small writing. Glowing red now."
They all approached. On the wall, around the symbol engravings, thin lines now glowed soft red—a simple binary pattern, rows of zeros and ones forming a short loop.
Seris frowned. "This... isn't Ancient Elvish writing. This is machine code. Very basic."
Nyxaria looked at it. The pattern repeated: 01000110 01101111 01110010 01100111 01101111 01110100 01110100 01100101 01101110. Her eight thousand hours included time learning coding basics to understand game mechanics. She translated it in her head almost instantly.
Forgotten.

