Dungeon (6): The Eerily Familiar Statue
“By the way, isn't it amazing that such a massive temple exists all the way down here in the underground depths?”
As they continued descending toward the heart of the dungeon, Eily suddenly halted and glanced around. She tapped her chin thoughtfully with her index finger, lost in contemplation. Even in the darkness, her clear eyes sparkled with curiosity. Thick, enormous stone pillars stretched upward as if supporting the heavens, and faint murals clung to the walls from ages long past. Traces of relentless time were etched everywhere, yet the temple still exuded a majestic presence without losing its dignity.
“Yeah, it's called an ancient temple for a reason. It's pretty incredible that they could build something this huge underground so long ago.”
In response to Eily's words, Varis narrowed his eyes and quietly surveyed the surroundings.
“...”
It was only natural for them to react this way. The Deep Temple Dungeon. A place that radiated overwhelming grandeur and an eerie atmosphere even in the abyss's darkness. Once a sacred hall of prayer, now corrupted and swallowed by decay and shadow. The massive chandelier dangling from the high ceiling had long lost its light, its glass shards shattered and scattered across the floor. Beneath it lingered faint traces of those who had once prayed there, and the altar, which might have borne golden ornaments, was charred black.
“And this... is it blood?”
Eily pointed at the floor and murmured softly. All eyes turned instantly to where she indicated. The ground was soaked in dark, murky blood and water, producing a wet squelch with every step. The damp air mingled with a faint metallic tang of iron. It felt old, yet strangely as if it were still seeping in, not fully dried.
“It kinda feels like a maze too...”
Elisha added her own dubious comment. As she said, the interior was densely packed with towering pillars, evoking the sensation of wandering an endless forest. The temple's complex layout was perfect for losing one's sense of direction. Banners and cloths draped over the pillars were moldy and stained by darkness, their original colors faded. In the crevices stood grotesque statues with closed eyes—some with hands clasped in prayer, others gripping swords and gazing downward.
“But hey, don't these statues give you the creeps a little?”
“They won't suddenly start moving, right?”
Melina also eyed the temple warily, particularly the statues carved in unsettling poses. They seemed to mourn someone, yet emanated a bizarre oppressiveness, as if poised to spring to life from their silence. In the shadows, they almost felt like they were holding their breath.
“The statues are one thing, but why did ancient people build such a gloomy underground structure? What was so great about it...”
As she grumbled uncomfortably, Lucy—who had been silently enduring the group's criticisms—finally spoke up.
“Though it looks like this now, it was once a truly beautiful place.”
“Huh?”
“What do you mean?”
As question marks practically floated above everyone's heads, Lucy continued without regard for their reactions.
“In ancient times, it was the age of the gods. An era when deities boldly revealed themselves before humanity.”
Lucy slowly traced her fingertips along an aged stone wall. Dust sifted between her fingers, but her expression seemed steeped in nostalgia.
“And these grand temples were built by the devout followers of those gods.”
Her voice was low but firm.
“Even though time has worn it down and corruption has taken hold... it once shone with splendor.”
For a moment, the group fell silent. Though still a ruin, imagining its past glory stirred an odd emotion.
“The wraiths haunting this place... they were once faithful believers too...”
Lucy paused, closing her eyes, then added quietly,
“But I believe they'll all be saved one day.”
Her soft, subdued voice carried a strange conviction. She gazed at the faded, tattered banners hanging from the ancient pillars.
“Hard to believe, I know. But it's true. It's treated as a dungeon now, but in the past, this was a temple—a sanctuary of faith and solace for all.”
Imagining how sacred this place must have been was no easy feat. Faint traces on the dust-covered floor, collapsed altars, shattered holy relics that once rested upon them.
“These wraiths were once worshippers of the divine... and someday, I believe they'll be redeemed.”
She closed her eyes gently, as if reminiscing about an irretrievable past, her face evoking a longing for lost glory. Her expression held a mystical, wistful allure, like she was lost in a fragment of fantasy.
But then, Eily—who had been quietly observing—posed a sharp question.
“By the way, Senior Lucy?”
All eyes turned to Lucy.
“How do you know all this in such detail? You talk like you've experienced it firsthand.”
There was no malice in her words. But precisely because of that, it cut all the sharper as a doubt. Lucy's manner wasn't mere historical knowledge; she spoke as if she'd witnessed it herself—enough to arouse suspicion in anyone.
“Uh...?”
At the question, Lucy froze as if struck hard on the head. It was a rare reaction from her usually cool and composed self. Visibly flustered, she parted her lips to speak, but they only trembled without forming words, her thoughts in disarray.
The obviousness of it left everyone holding their breath, waiting for her response.
“Th-that's because...! Well, you know... Yeah! I know ancient history really well too!”
Lucy waved her hands frantically in denial, but her forced, hastily concocted excuse only highlighted her panic. She stammered on.
“And I've been here a few times, right?! I've researched this dungeon plenty, and studying the history just naturally taught me all this!”
Silence fell. Everyone mulled over her words. Most seemed to accept it, but lingering suspicion remained in their eyes.
“I see... So it was once a grand temple.”
Melina murmured, gazing up at the ceiling. The massive dome was cracked and crumbling now, but perhaps divine power had once dwelled there. Yet today, it was a realm of shadow and corruption. The only remnants of the past were the grotesque statues and decaying relics.
“It's hard to picture it... This place full of life and vitality.”
Eily passed between the statues, looking around. She gently brushed a roughly hewn pillar. The cold stone against her fingertips made her expression one of disbelief that this had once been a living, breathing space.
“I wonder what kind of people the believers were who prayed here long ago.”
She traced a faint remaining pattern with her finger and whispered softly.
“...”
In that moment, Senior Lucy's complexion subtly darkened. Her face stiffened slightly, her gaze wavering. She said nothing, but seemed lost in complicated thoughts.
No one voiced it, but a strange tension hung in the air.
Then Varis's voice shattered the mood.
“Whoa! Isn't that a treasure chest?”
Everyone's eyes followed his pointing finger.
“It really is!”
Melina clasped her hands, beaming. Atop the grand altar, amid ancient decorations, sat a weathered chest. Faint patterns adorned it, along with tarnished golden embellishments. Dust piled high, as if it had endured the ages.
“Might be some good loot inside.”
Varis quickened his pace toward the rare reward. After so long exploring under tension, the chest felt like rain in a drought.
“Let's see what's inside~”
With eager eyes, he caressed the chest's surface. The wood grain met his touch, and as he reached for the latch—
“Wait, but...”
Elisha suddenly looked elsewhere, her voice laced with doubt.
“Hm?”
Her gaze fixed on the statue atop the chest. A woman's figure on the altar—not merely carved, but startlingly lifelike. As if someone living had been turned to stone.
“That statue, it seems...”
At Elisha's words, the others looked too. Instantly, their faces hardened.
“What the heck is that...”
In the hushed space, breaths held, all eyes locked on the statue. The woman's face, chiseled from cold stone. Soft yet sharp features, long hair cascading in disarray. Despite the craftsmanship, it felt oddly familiar.
“...No way.”
Melina swallowed hard. The statue's likeness was none other than—
“Senior Lucy... right?”
It bore an uncanny resemblance to Lucy.