After Lukas was finally done and the collected corpses were burnt to their very bones, they walked across the floating ashes with soot covering their very footsteps. The small motes of light on their shoulders offered very little respite from the heavy stinging air as the only evidence left behind of their past desperate battle were the scorched heap of flesh and furs along with the blistering stains decorating the walls like tokens of death.

“We have finally arrived.” Lukas announced with relief. The adjacent room meant to be their last stop slowly creaked as they pushed its heavy doors further open. Inside revealed a circular hall, its horizontal length less than half of the hall they came from but with a ceiling so high that even the materialized orb of light could barely shed its brilliance on top of the room.

From the gilded decorations on the floors and walls to the long silver altar candles placed purposefully inside, they could tell the simple hall was meant to be a place of worship. Time though was not as kind as dust and cobwebs covered every bare surface with everything of value long taken. On the curved wall were the very same statues they saw in the previous hall but now all of them were in a state of obeisance with their knees bent, and their grotesque heads bowed.

The somber atmosphere made them feel as they had stepped into hallowed grounds and when their eyes followed, they behold the very subject this hall was meant for. More than 10 feet tall, a bare-chested statue of a male wreathed in flowing robes stood right at the center. A large halo now covered his back, along with majestic wings that spanned across the room, shadowing its terrifying subjects throughout the years. Its hands were outstretched towards them, almost as if it beckoned them to its embrace but if it weren’t for its eyes streaked with the familiar dark stains; and a much larger orb shimmering above it in a soft blue light; they would have thought they were in the presence of a very different god. The statue felt ancient and powerful and despite the fact that many years had passed, it still demanded their attention and respect. For a moment they all stood still, the silence pervading between them almost seemed sacred.

It was Renesme at last who broke the spell the statue had cast on them.

“A Daendric Prince…”She softly breathed as she got closer to the statue fascinated.

Mira instead violently reacted. “Did you just say a Daendric prince?”

Geoff frowned while Lukas clueless asked.

“What is a Daendric prince?”

Mira glanced at Renesme before she turned to the looming statue. “An old religion long decreed forbidden to practice. Any heritage of it was banished from history with only a few remaining records speaking of its woes and warning against those who worship them.”

“It has been declared illegal for hundreds of years now.” Renesme declared her gaze focused on the sculpture. “But it seems some traces still bled through time. The Ancient Knowledge spoke of them as the Old Gods, The 7 Daendric Princes of Darkness. Their followers have raised countless mayhem of chaos and blood in the past that it left a lasting scar in the yonder Continent of Lush. Finally it was mandated none shall dare follow the princes of Darkness lest the whole world burn in vengeance and the clamor for annihilation to descend.”

Lukas's heart chilled when he suddenly recalled something. “Representative Malten did say that in the years before the Advent of the Golden Patron, this graveyard used to be a stronghold of the crazy cultists…”

Mira shook her head. “If it became known that a statue of a Daendric prince exists under the catacombs of Golden City, the implications would run far and wide…”

Lukas was just about to ask when Geoffrey explained further.

“They are universally hated,” He told him. “Countless tales of blood and woe have spawned because of them throughout the years. The stories speak of the ages past where the followers of such gods used to sacrifice hundreds upon hundreds of people for their nefarious rituals. It was a dreadful time. Although such history is left told only through ballads and songs, they also tell of price the old heroes had to pay to stop such blight from spreading. Even years later, a slight rumor of their existences is enough to send people to a panic.”

In the midst of their banter, none of them noticed Rexsi, silently rooted on the same spot looking at the imminent statue with a strange conflicted look on his face.

Lukas raised his orb even higher, shedding more light on the welcoming visage of the carefully sculptured effigy.

“Does he have a name?” he asked.

Almost everyone hissed in response. “You really have no idea, don’t you?” Mira berated even as she explained. “Legends warn against uttering a true god’s name. I have no idea if it’s true that bad luck will truly descend upon a soul foolish enough to make such a blunder. It is said such beings were so powerful that they could hear their name being uttered across planes. It was such to an extent that an adage was left for rest of us; always pay the old gods their due respect or else risk suffering the wrath.”

A little miffed, Lukas barely said a word before Renesme interjected.

“Judging from its orb and the mark of eternal tears, this must be a Daendric Prince of Shadows & Sorrows, The Last Respite of the Unfulfilled, The Holy Patron of Mercy and the Absolver of the Perpetually Pained.”

‘Huh! Perhaps he is the reason why this place is called The Graveyard of Sorrows’ Lukas thought to himself before his eyebrows rose.

“The Perpetually Pained?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Renesme nodded as she explained. “It meant he blessed those who were forever cursed in pain and suffering. Although true names of the old gods couldn’t be uttered in the ages past, it was through their titles they become widely known & spread.”

Lukas blinked in surprise. "Oh! Well he doesn't sound so bad..."

Renesme's eyes twinkled as she added. “It truly doesn’t until you believe in cutting someone's life short in face of pain as the path of redemption. The followers of this Daendric prince were once hailed as Miracle Workers and Blessed Healers but in truth, if they ever crossed path with someone's whose fate could not be redeemed even with magic, they silently took their lives fervently believing they showed mercy should they have lived a life of suffering instead.”

“Ah!” Lukas could only sigh, wishing he could take back his words. Mira got closer to the statue, her hand lightly trailing the aged marble.

“I have heard of them. Traces of their cult persist even now. They are very secretive as they can disguise themselves as some of the most capable healers. But rumors say their hands are stained with blood as countless of lives they deemed terminal died under their beliefs. Even some of the commoners willingly throw themselves at them for the hope of finding a new life within their healing hands or being saved from their pain through a peaceful death.”

She chuckled when she saw Lukas’s bewildered face. “That’s why they are so hard to eradicate. They might have been purged and their religion banned but on occasions, many of the people who are neither able nor gifted are desperate enough to obtain what they offer.”

Geoffrey humored him as he patted his shoulders. “But don't worry. The Daendric religion has waned after such a long time with truths and rumors all mixed in. No one dares to willingly support such practices nowadays.”

Rexsi snapped from his lasting reverie before he brought them back to what they had aimed to do so in the first place. “Let's search around. If there is no sign of danger and nothing of value we might as well call it early and be gone. I am craving for a shard of sunlight right about now.”

They all agreed before they slowly branched out in different directions. The circular hall was wide enough, with a lot of space to cover. Lukas went on the right side of the hall, together with Rexsi, while Geoffrey and Mira went on the opposite side; leaving Renesme standing still in front of the statue, her jade eyes still lingering on the marbled face of grief.

The direction Lukas and Rexsi went, placed them directly on path with a certain pile hidden under the shadows of a satyr statue. At its bent knees laid a heap of various artifacts ranging from broken swords, shields, and staves all rusted and covered in dust; a physical collection of all the adventurers that who had ever ventured in the deadly catacombs brought together in one massive heap.

Lukas stared at the collection. “When Representative Malten said that this was a purge of countless years I never imagined that…”

“This many people had fallen to their demise within these halls?” Rexsi finished his thoughts.

He walked up to the pile and spoke while rummaging through.

“Honestly it's not that surprising. Some adventurers strike it rich, making a killing enough to last their whole lives while others fall, their names meant to be forgotten. The catacombs of Golden City run deeper than most people think and throughout the years there must be many adventurers willing to go down to its depths for a strike of fortune.” He picked up a nearest rusted sword, twirling it in his hands.

"Can't the Adventurer's Guild put a stop into it?" Lukas asked, puzzled.

Rexsi had a strange expression. “Why would they? Adventuring is a high risk high rewards profession. Think about it; by letting people venture into this place they are able to keep creatures like those rats under control and they are more than likely to obtain more benefits should any adventurers who stumbled upon some gains they are willing to sell. It's a win-win situation for them."

Lukas looked at Rexsi for a while before he sighed. “To think that we would have been a part of this collection if we hadn't survived the ordeal...”

A moment of silence passed with Rexsi was busy trying to see if he could salvage anything useful from the rusted heap. Most of the artifacts they found were white-ranked, with only few at Silver. This meant that mostly mortal mages and warriors with a few possessing the strength at Earth stage had once walked within these corridors before they ultimately met their unfortunate ends.

A gleaming insignia caught Lukas's eyes as he also stretched his hands to uncover it. It was a huge book, lighter than he expected, covered in a thin layer of dust which failed to hide its past grandeur. Rexsi glanced at it before he spoke.

“It's a Grimore.” he told him as he gave it a far more observant look. “…a Tome from the Divine Cathedral. Their iconic insignia are blinding even from a far.”

Lukas shuffled it around his hands before he confirmed something.

“It seems to be fairly new.” he said before he placed it on his left hand, while attempting to open it with his right hand.

“Don't bother.” Rexsi said when he noticed his efforts. “You can't open it…wait what?"

Lukas lifted his head. “What were you saying?” he asked, the grimore lay opened in his arms.

Rexsi gawked at him before he dropped whatever he was holding and then got near Lukas, his eyes roving all over him and the book. “What happened? How did you open it?”

A little taken aback, Lukas was slightly confused. “I simply opened it…just like how you take books and course through its pages.”

Rexsi nearly rolled his eyes. “You can't just open a grimore belonging to the Divine Cathedral. It's nighly impossible thing to do. Those over-crazed zealots are prone to paranoia; all about protecting the secrets of their gods or something. Hence their grimores are always enchanted to prevent anyone other than them from being able to open them again.”

Speechless, Lukas was not even aware such a thing existed. He couldn’t be blamed as the world he had reincarnated into had so much knowledge, customs and myths that his foray into the First Level of the Hall of Insight barely covered him with the basics. The Lore of the Daendric Prince to such common knowledge completely escaped his grasp.

Realizing he might have done something strange, he only asked the most important question. “Why?”

Rexsi shrugged, still fascinated with what has just happened. “Well I don't know the reason for it. You will just have to ask them for an answer. Wait, let me try something.”

He suddenly grabbed the opened book from Lukas's hands. In a muffled bang, the book snapped shut with such a force that Rexsi was sure his nimble fingers would have been smashed if he hadn't been quick enough to retrieve them.

Not waiting for Rexsi to collect himself, Lukas retrieved the book into his own hands and then smoothly opened it, almost as if the book hadn’t just tried to snap Rexsi’s fingers in half.

Rexsi was just about to utter a particularly vicious word when…

“Over here.” Mira's distant voice carried over to them. Giving the book a vile look while curiously looking at Lukas, Rexsi slowly shook his head before he left, leaving Lukas with more questions than answers.

He handled the book with care, carefully shifting through the pages, hoping to understand what had just happened but he was left disappointed. Every single page he coursed though was completely empty, with not even a shadow of inked Cyrillic letters upon them. Verifying that it is the same throughout the book, he had a piece of mind to take the grimore and solve its puzzle later but in the end he decided against it.

Just from the recent talk and the rumors he had heard, the priests of Divine cathedrals were more than what he could currently handle and he definitely didn't want to attract their attention this early into his path of magic. He gave the grimore one last look before he sighed again. The book might have had some kind of a rune malfunction he thought to himself, not noticing a small radiance that flickered over to his own hanging book of spells before it disappeared, with him none the wiser.

Carefully placing the empty grimore atop the heap, he gave one last look at the mountain of artifacts before further affirming his resolve. This was a world fraught with danger in every turn. One wrong step and he might be buried, forgotten just like this ancient mass of broken dreams and unfulfilled aspirations. By then, he couldn't guarantee if he would be still be reincarnated or would his second death be final. That was something he couldn’t even dare risk finding out.

He left the pile behind, the orb of light floating above him, following his every step. Everyone had congregated at the foot of the sacred statue staring at something hidden from his view. When he finally reached them, they automatically left a crack and when he directed his orb closer he saw finally it.

Behind the humongous statue, growing from within a crack on the floor, an exquisite purple flower existed, its petals gently swaying to an imperceptible breeze. Three stalks grew from it though it seemed two leaves were still attached to its stem.

“This” Renesme pointed at the flower, “Might be the reason why a rat king appeared in these parts of the Catacombs.”

Puzzled, they all glanced at the flower wondering why Renesme uttered such words.