The Lich's Hidden Dungeon
If another country had invaded or even a duke had plotted something at a time like this, Veners would have fallen without a chance to fight back. But the war clouds sparked by the conflict between Lionia and Silmarron had spread across the entire continent. In fact, Veners was fortunate to have ended the war early and focused on strengthening its foundations.
The three southern kingdoms of the western continent were deep in their own war, and rumors swirled that war loomed over the coalition of small nations in the southeast. With no foreign spies to catch and Ether buried in administrative duties, I found myself with nothing to do by his side. So, I set off on another journey.
My first destination was Silmarron's Magic Tower. Though it had lost most of its high-ranking mages in the war and its power was greatly diminished, it was still the magic tower of a magic kingdom. I spent several months there, absorbing Silmarron's unique theories and techniques. That's when a rumor began circulating in the tower—about the location of the previous Archmage's dungeon.
It was the kind of urban legend. Around 300 years ago, there was an Archmage named Inclonius. Rumors like this had surfaced many times before, and countless adventurers and mages had scoured the suspected sites, but no one had ever found it.
If Inclonius's dungeon held no value, no one would bother searching. But Inclonius had achieved remarkable feats in his time, especially in the field he specialized in: space magic. Subspace artifacts are still incredibly rare and expensive today, but Inclonius had crafted dozens of them. His dungeon was bound to contain several, and the best ones would still be there.
I knew so much about this mage from 300 years ago in a foreign land not just because he was famously etched into mages' history, but because Veners possessed two of his subspace artifacts. One was in the royal treasury—a bag-shaped one—and the king carried the other, a ring-shaped subspace artifact.
Even that ring, which was merely low-grade by capacity among Inclonius's works, had cost a million gold when purchased. Back then, before territorial expansion, the Veners royal family's annual revenue was about three million gold. Imagine the fortune Inclonius amassed selling dozens of them—no one could even guess.
So, a dungeon where this man had vanished with all his possessions? Finding it would bring unimaginable wealth and fame. But who am I? I've already uncovered a national treasure of Veners while treasure hunting. Suddenly, I was hooked.
First, I gathered information. Over 300 years, only five locations had been suspected as Inclonius's dungeon—a surprisingly small number given how many treasure hunters had pursued it. That spoke to how few clues there were about his movements.
I didn't have some special ability to uncover what no one else could. So, I decided to check them out myself from the start. The first suspected site was Inclonius's birthplace. Naturally, his old mansion was long gone, and the land had changed hands multiple times as new nobles built and abandoned estates.
I went there and did what only I could: as a soul, I could pass through walls and earth without hindrance. Records said the first noble to buy the land had dug deep, but I went even deeper than anyone would think to look.
Above all, Inclonius was a master of space magic—not just subspace, but teleportation too. That meant he could create a dungeon no one would find. So, I searched places he might have thought of, spots only I could reach.
I scoured deep underground at his birthplace but found nothing. Then I combed the surrounding mountains, above and below ground. Starting from the first site, I struck out at the second and third before reaching the fourth.
This was the northernmost beach of the old Silmarron Kingdom. No traces remained now, but Inclonius had a villa there, where he bid farewell to his wife. Her cause of death was unknown—presumed illness—but records noted a lavish funeral.
As before, I started underground at the villa site and checked the surrounding mountains. As I was about to wrap up, I spotted the sea. It was my first time seeing it.
Curiosity about the ocean depths hit me, so I decided to check the seabed and nearby islands while I was at it. Diving into the sea for the first time opened a whole new world: nameless creatures, seaweeds, and sunken relics on the ancient ocean floor, all fueling my curiosity.
Forgetting my original goal, I lost myself exploring the sea around me. That's when, unexpectedly, I found it deep under an island far offshore.
At first, I didn't think it was Inclonius's dungeon—just a large cavern under a remote island. But it had countless passages branching off, leading to rooms of different purposes.
The first room rivaled a grand library in books—ancient tomes, mostly on magic, priceless ones you couldn't buy today.
In the second room, it hit me: Is this a black mage's lab? It was a magic lab, but not ordinary. Faint traces of black magic lingered, old as they were. Still, figuring the black mage had long left, I pressed on.
The third room overflowed with treasure. Only then did I suspect this might be Inclonius's dungeon. The gold coins alone looked worth millions.
A mage with that much wealth? Inclonius fit. The next room was full of junk, but one odd item stood out: a plain metal vial in the corner containing a soul.
Can black mages even do this? My knowledge of black magic was limited, so it was alien to me. But the soul inside wasn't ordinary—vast and radiant, tainted black with demonic energy, rivaling the ill-fated genius Fortega's.
I wondered if it was Inclonius's soul, restrained by a black mage. Without much thought, I absorbed it. The familiar euphoria of devouring a brilliant soul washed over me.
Then, a horrific scream echoed from deep in the cavern—not human: “Who are you?! Who dares destroy my soul?! Kaaaaah!”
Silence followed. I waited, but nothing. Echoes made pinpointing hard, but it didn't matter to me—I could phase through walls.
The source was a skeleton in ancient robes on a stone bed etched with runes. Demonic energy was dissipating rapidly from it. Then it clicked: Is this a lich I've only heard of? And what I absorbed was its life vessel?
Life vessels are usually orbs, but liches can shape them as they like. This one was surely Inclonius. And I'd absorbed the soul directly, not just shattered the vessel.
Having casually slain a lich from the history books, I stared at the presumed Inclonius skeleton, lost in thought. I'd lived barely 40 years in life. Yet this man had endured 300 years underground on this remote island—in a lich's body that neither ate nor slept, like mine.
What had he needed 300 years for? Had those long years been joyful? I might live centuries as a soul. What goal should guide me?
Thoughts flooded in. I sank into deep reflection, perhaps influenced by Inclonius's absorbed soul. When I snapped out, time had passed—his once-vibrant, demonic bones were dust, magic gone.
This was the "forgetfulness of time" I'd long guarded against: losing hours or even weeks to contemplation. Anyway, late but determined, I explored the dungeon.
It was indeed Inclonius's. He left extensive records—on his magic research and personal life. He'd perfected subspace and teleportation magic in life. As a lich, he'd pursued magic transcending space: dimensions.
His journals described researching time and space, leading to parallel dimensions sharing the same timeframe. He called them parallel dimensions and wanted to cross to one to save his lost wife and unborn child.
In short, after over 250 years, he'd failed at dimensional travel magic. For the last 50 years, despair had left him idle.
With that backstory clear, I began learning his completed spells. Thanks to his soul, subspace and teleportation came as easily as basic magic.
The issue was my meager mana. But I could use them. Teleportation barely spanned 10 meters, even with the mana boost from his soul—practically useless.
Subspace magic worked, though small-scale. With Inclonius's artifacts scattered here, I could make use of it.
I meticulously collected nearly everything he left. It took ages, using minimal mana per item. Finally, I exited the dungeon.
Unlike others, it had no defenses or traps. Who'd find it? No one had in 300 years despite searches. It could serve as my secret vault if needed someday.