The Sun Always Rises
The sun always rises. A brilliant light streaked across the pitch-black night sky, illuminating the surrounding area as brightly as day. Even during the daylight hours when the radiant sun lingered overhead, the world remained dim beneath the thick layer of dust that blanketed the heavens. When night fell, even the faint starlight and moonlight were completely blocked, leaving only an all-consuming darkness. The entire world resembled the bottom of a lightless abyss; one could not see even a hand’s breadth ahead, let alone their own two hands. In the nights of present-day Terraris, artificial light was essential for any observation.
The orb of light Neromeltia had conjured bathed the vicinity in a glow so vivid it seemed as though the sun itself had risen, rendering every detail of the ground crystal clear. The party, currently en route to the Decastras Mountain Range in search of stone and timber, moved forward while meticulously scanning their path—not only to reach their destination, but also to fulfill the secondary objective of surveying the region. In truth, the fact that no invaders had appeared even after deploying a large-scale purification magic circle around the Demon Lord’s Castle, despite its enormous mana consumption, already proved that teleportation magic would be safe. Nevertheless, they had chosen to combine their journey with regional exploration, flying toward their goal while keeping their eyes open for anything of value.
After all, discovering resources, traces of information, or perhaps the hidden dwellings of Humians along the way would surely prove beneficial. And if they happened to find survivors, protecting them would be the best possible outcome.
“It’s… truly horrific……”
“Isn’t it?”
“I knew from the captured Humian soldiers that Terraris was on the brink of destruction, but I never imagined it would be this devastating.”
The three absolute masters of magic flew at a speed so tremendous that ordinary people would never have noticed them. Even after departing the Demon Lord’s Castle and stopping briefly at Crimson Castle, they had already covered a distance that defied imagination in a single day. What they witnessed while surveying that vast expanse was not merely parched earth or blackened wastelands. Villages, towns, and small cities that had likely perished a thousand years ago now stood as desolate ruins, leaving behind only faint traces of their former existence. Lakes once famed for their crystal-clear waters, along with the fishing villages nestled beside them, had vanished without a trace, replaced by foul, viscous swamps choked with black sludge. Forests where rabbits and deer once frolicked were now filled with withered, skeletal trees, their rotting black soil riddled with holes from which cockroaches the size of children crawled forth in writhing masses.
The once-vast plains, teeming with life and following nature’s laws, were now overrun by hordes of zombies driven by the grudges and vengeful spirits etched into their very souls, hating all living things. From the factories once built by Humians, industrial waste and sewage continued to spill, poisoning the land, while lethal toxic gases formed a single, murky cloud of mist. The massive depression in the ground—likely the collapsed burrow of a Giant Python—oozed putrid water from below.
In a long-abandoned Humian village, a single magitech soldier that still functioned recognized Neromeltia’s party as targets and attempted to open fire. Yet its body, corroded and rusted after prolonged exposure to pollution, crumbled at the slightest movement and collapsed completely before it could even begin its barrage. The once-vast wetlands, once called the cradle of life and a source of fish for the people, were now filled only with viscous sewage, within which something enormous writhed and sent ripples across the surface—clearly no normal creature.
Food resources were nowhere to be found, and even living organisms were scarce. Those that remained were grotesque and repulsive. They had likely mutated to survive in this lethally polluted environment, yet every single one appeared unfit for consumption or coexistence. Material resources had likewise been completely depleted; locations once known to hold valuable supplies were now barren, as though the Humians had stripped them clean. No survivors could be found, nor even traces of their presence. In such an environment, the certainty that no one could survive even a moment without collapsing and dying filled them with a crushing sense of despair.
“It is likely that the Humians dispatched a large army, as they always have, coinciding with Master’s resurrection. Yet according to the Secretary’s account, only fifteen reached the Varcus Volcano. You mentioned that the captured soldier claimed the army was annihilated by the harsh environment, with merely fifteen survivors. Seeing the state of things now, it is entirely believable. In fact, it is astonishing that even fifteen managed to reach the northernmost reaches of the Astaris Continent alive—frail Humians though they were.”
Beatrice’s words were factual, aside from the cold contempt she added at the end. That only made the situation appear all the more dire. While it was satisfying to learn that the Humian army had been wiped out by the very pollution they had caused—a fitting retribution—it also meant that if even Humians armed with advanced magitech technology could not endure this environment, there was little hope of finding other survivors. The realization left them steeped in desolation.
“…But still! Master has met plenty of survivors! You met me, Crawford, and the Demonia people. You met Artis and the goblins, too! And Beatrice, and Cardistella and the undead, who were living safely in Crimson Castle! There must be many others still surviving in their own ways. Please don’t be too disappointed, Master.”
Lusteria’s sincere words of comfort carried a spark of hope, warm and gentle. Moreover, they were grounded in truth, lending them even greater strength. Even in this horrific environment, the survivors they had encountered so far continued to live on, each in their own way. Whether strong or weak mattered little; the strong endured through their strength, the weak through their resilience, and all had survived with unyielding determination. Neromeltia found hope and solace in Lusteria’s words.
Yet a dark shadow lingered in Lusteria’s eyes. It was not that she doubted her own words or viewed reality with pessimism. Rather, it seemed born from seeing the lifeless gaze of Neromeltia, who had been swallowed by deep, murky thoughts. Beneath the cheerful, affectionate expression with which Lusteria offered her comfort hid a quiet anxiety—an unease born of worry for her beloved master, which she tried desperately to conceal lest Neromeltia notice and become concerned herself.
Everything had already happened. Neromeltia shook her head, casting aside the clinging thoughts. She would not burden someone precious with needless worry.
“The Decastras Mountain Range is finally in sight. Let’s land on the ridge and rest for a while.”
The imposing presence of the Decastras Mountain Range, with its towering heights, was magnificent even by scale alone. Stretching from the northern to southern regions of the continent and facing the Kalabas Ocean to the east, the range’s most majestic and highest section lay at its center—the Heavenly Pillar, located in the central-eastern part of the Astaris Continent. Having flown from the northernmost Demon Lord’s Castle, the place where they now arrived was merely the edge of the Decastras Mountain Range, where the true mountainous terrain began. Even so, the grandeur of the continent’s greatest mountain range overwhelmed the surrounding landscape, even at its outermost fringe.
Having alighted upon the majestic peaks, Neromeltia’s party watched as dawn approached. To the east of the Decastras Mountain Range lay the sea—the Kalabas Ocean, the deepest and vastest body of water in Terraris, named after the goddess of the sea, Kalasia. The light of the sunrise, hidden until now by the mountain range, finally revealed itself before their eyes. Though the dust layer in the polluted atmosphere rendered the light hazy and wavering, the crimson glow still carried warmth and brilliance. Neromeltia felt a burning emotion stir deep within her heart—an aching longing that made her yearn for something with all her soul.
Immersed in sentiment, Neromeltia thought to herself: Someday, she wanted to restore that brilliantly shining, veiled beauty.