The Story Engraved on Stone
The Story Engraved on Stone 105. This is a tale about the depth of stories carved into stone. As we rose from white to red, the conflicts deepened, and more intuitive characters emerged. So what is the difference between red and blue? Answering a single question would suffice. Who is the worse villain? Unlike red, where the perpetrator and victim were clear, blue’s conflicts grew deeper and more complex. Which villain is worse among villains? Which hero is more heroic among heroes? In the gap between ideologies where superiority cannot be easily distinguished, the explorer had to find an answer. That would become his direction. At the same time, it was the process by which the storyteller’s transcendence took shape. Until now, it was merely a taste. The true theme of Stage 6 has begun.
Rattle— Rattle—
We awoke inside a moving wooden prison. A shabby, dilapidated mobile cage that occasionally shook due to unbalanced wheels. Yet what caught my eye more than that were the dense trees and the massive walls beyond the bars.
‘This place…’
A familiar world. The Maze of Evolution, the setting of Stage 4.
“So you’ve finally come to your senses, outsider.”
The one who spoke was my fellow prisoner. The same face I had seen on the statue.
‘I’ve met the protagonist right away… Though he could become a villain.’
Regardless of the expression I wore, the man continued speaking as if to himself.
“You look confused. Well, that makes sense. You’ve been chosen as an honorable sacrifice.”
“An honorable sacrifice?”
The words were ironic. If we were honorable sacrifices, why were we locked in this crudely made wooden cage? There was nothing honorable about it. But he seemed to think my doubt lay with “sacrifice” rather than “honorable,” and went on with his explanation.
“You may not know this as an outsider, but our race is preparing for future dangers. Following the Prophet’s orders, we selected outstanding warriors and placed them in the temple to enter hibernation.”
It was a story I roughly knew. Hadn’t I summoned and slaughtered those warriors back in Stage 4?
“But what does that have to do with sacrifices?”
“Hibernation isn’t free. We are offered as sacrifices to preserve those great warriors.”
Honestly, I didn’t even know where to begin pointing out the flaws. What exactly was this great future crisis, and was there any reason to sacrifice our own kin to maintain hibernation for it? But there was something strange before that. Offering me—an outsider—as a sacrifice was something I could understand if I stretched my imagination, but these people were sacrificing even their own kin to prepare for the future.
“Seeing you sacrifice your current kin for the sake of the future race, it seems the Dark Elves’ time has come to an end.”
At my words, he burst into hearty laughter.
“Wahaha! You’re right, that’s true. But usually, only outsiders are offered. I became a sacrifice because I said the very act of offering sacrifices was wrong.”
I understood roughly. The fact that even this man, who was essentially part of the opposition, showed respect toward the Prophet meant that this future great crisis was acknowledged by the entire Dark Elf race. But their methods differed. And this man who had rebelled against the Prophet was now being transported to the Relic Temple as a sacrifice alongside me.
“Hey, be quiet.”
The soldiers banged on the bars, annoyed by our constant chatter. Their eyes warned us to stop talking nonsense.
‘We’ve got interferers.’
But those interferers soon lost the ability to interfere with us any further. This was the Maze of Evolution. The maze’s masters had begun attacking the intruders.
“Beasts!”
“Everyone, prepare for battle!”
The creatures that appeared were sea lions. With their massive bodies, they emerged from all directions.
‘Perfect timing.’
“Mind if I ask a few more questions?”
The prisoner nodded.
“I should clear up all my curiosities before heading to the afterlife. And again, I’m not particularly fond of being a sacrifice.”
“So what exactly is this future crisis?”
“That’s what you’re curious about? I didn’t think someone about to die would care about such things… It’s said to be an enormous crisis that could destroy this world. That’s all there is to it.”
Too abstract.
“Is there no more detailed information? Like, after awakening, fight alongside someone, or oppose a certain target. If it’s that vague, how are we supposed to tell friend from foe?”
The prisoner looked at me with a puzzled expression. But soon, he erased it as if it didn’t matter.
“Well… According to the prophecy, we’re supposed to fight for the one who recognizes us. It’s an ambiguous statement. But that’s how prophecies are, aren’t they? Vague…”
Fight for the one who recognizes us. The implications of this were enormous. To me, they were Dark Elves. But in other users’ worlds, they appeared in different forms. Sometimes as dwarves, sometimes as mermaids, sometimes as orcs. And they were all beings born from Earth’s culture.
‘As expected… Your true nature was a gift, wasn’t it?’
According to the Helper, the Goddess had torn her power into hundreds of pieces and scattered them throughout the world. Since the next rider’s stage couldn’t be known, she had done so. And just like at the Destination, some malice had twisted and misused her power.
‘Ah, come to think of it…’
There had been a sponsor in Stage 4 who converted the relics obtained from the guardian into items. That sponsor had been exchanging the Goddess’s remaining power for cheap items.
‘So that’s why consuming relics increases stats.’
In other words, the Dark Elves were the despair version of the Destination. The Goddess’s power had been completely consumed by the stage’s power, turning gifts into monsters instead. But it wasn’t completely hopeless. If their true nature was that of gifts, then when a rightful recipient appeared, they could fulfill their original role.
‘I’ve decided what to take from here.’
“I understand roughly. Then one last question. Dotamund. If you escape from here, what do you intend to do?”
A gift is a gift. Ultimately, to see the end of this story, I needed to find the conflict and decide which one was the worse villain. So even if it wasn’t the highest priority, I needed to understand this prisoner’s true intentions.
When I called him by name, emotion finally spread across his previously lifeless expression. Dotamund’s voice trembled thinly.
“You… knew about me?”
“Answer the question, Great Warrior.”
It was only natural that I knew his name. The statue’s title had been [Great Warrior Dotamund].
“I… will do what I originally intended. I will find a way to overcome the prophesied crisis without anyone having to be sacrificed. I don’t believe that sacrificing the present for the future is the Goddess’s will.”
“I see.”
I hadn’t made a complete decision yet. Ultimately, to determine which side was worse than the other, I needed to hear both sides. But at least Dotamund’s logic didn’t have any immediate problems that I could refute.
“Dotamund, you’ll have to become my guide.”
I activated my Domain. In an instant, a chilling aura of death enveloped the entire surrounding area.
“Show me that your words are not wrong.”
And zombies began rising from all directions. Enormous sea lions. But even larger creatures than those thrust their massive teeth into the maze. This place was no longer a maze. It had become the dark, deep bottom of the ocean.
Crunch— Crunch— Crunch—
The zombies devoured everything in their path. Unsatisfied with that, they spread out in all directions, hunting for prey throughout the maze.
Inside the cage where all life had vanished, Dotamund alternated his gaze between me and Baengnae, who was sleeping soundly beside me. His face was filled with nothing but terror.
“Huk… Heuk… W-Who are you…?”
The reason I had killed even the other Dark Elves around us was because they had already been consumed. Through five stages, I had faced the eyes of the “enemies.” Clear hostility. If given the chance, they would definitely try to kill the user—they carried that kind of resolve. Unfortunately, persuasion was impossible. This had already been verified through the sacrifices of countless community users. So I had left only this man, who wasn’t yet an enemy.
“Great Warrior Dotamund. Do not be afraid.”
I manifested the Goddess’s power at my fingertips. At the familiar divine energy, Dotamund’s trembling pupils steadied.
“Your path is correct.”
“Ah… Aah… This is the Goddess’s…”
“But do not hate them. They have merely lost their way. Answer me, Great Warrior Dotamund. What should be done with the Goddess’s children who have lost their way?”
Dotamund hurriedly prostrated himself. The rough floor of the cage scraped his knees and drew blood, but he paid it no mind. Then, remembering what I had said, he shouted.
“Guide them…! I must guide them. I will become a guide and lead the lost ones in the right direction!”
The man had become the guide I wanted. Our meanings might differ slightly, but at least our directions aligned to some degree. I took out an automatic rifle. It was an item that had been repeatedly improved and imbued with special abilities. Dotamund was a protagonist candidate. It was only right to provide him with appropriate means of self-defense.
“Raise your head.”
I bestowed the rifle upon Dotamund. He reverently received the unknown firearm with both hands.
“This is your staff. It will point the direction for the lost ones, gather the children, and repel outside forces when hardship comes. It is your staff.”
“A staff…!”
I summoned additional zombies to break the cage. Then I had them bring the armor worn by the Dark Elf guardian. I would teach him how to use firearms.
Click— Bang—
A sound like thunder shook the maze, and a blackened hole appeared in the extremely durable highest-grade armor. It was because the bullets carried an electric attribute. And Dotamund, who knew better than anyone the power of the armor the guardian had worn, cried out in ecstasy.
“Aah…! Aaaah! The Goddess’s staff! The Goddess’s staff!”
Dotamund trembled as he held the automatic rifle, like a primitive man who had discovered fire. He was so moved that tears streamed down his face. And though it wasn’t to the extent of the Dark Elf before me, I was also quite surprised.
‘What the— He’s incredibly skilled with it…?’
Come to think of it, Dark Elves were a race that handled bows. With their high vision and intense concentration, they were a race optimized for handling firearms.
‘Well, all the ones I’ve had until now were zombies.’
The only non-zombie Dark Elf I possessed was the Helper. But he wasn’t a combatant.
“Alright, Guide Dotamund. Lead me to the Prophet. I will reveal to the lost children what the Goddess’s true will truly is.”
Dotamund prostrated himself on the ground once more and answered.
“It shall be done as you wish, O Holy One!”
I followed him toward the Dark Elf kingdom. There were two people I needed to find. The other protagonist candidate and villain candidate who existed on the opposite side of Dotamund. And the Dark Elf called the Prophet, who might already be consumed by malice and was suspected to be the Goddess’s priest.