How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World-Chapter 452: Kingdom of Gerios (3)

While Elena was investigating the harbor under the scorching desert sun, the expedition members were inspecting the interior of the palace according to King Morgan’s orders.

Although the spectral reenactments they had witnessed earlier had ceased, they could not afford to let their guard down for even a moment.

[The records… must be… preserved…]

“Agh!”

Even though there were no full-scale reenactments, ghosts would occasionally appear out of nowhere, chilling their bones.

They no longer witnessed dire scenes like when the slave, Arthur Michelle, went to meet King Morgan, but the spirits had not disappeared entirely.

Occasionally, ghosts would emerge, mumbling incomprehensible words or wandering aimlessly, startling the expedition members.

One archaeologist, Benphis, was so terrified that he fainted.

“Cardinal Deimos… isn’t there something you can do about this?”

Benphis, having just regained consciousness, asked in a trembling voice.

He had explored numerous ruins and encountered spirits before, but this was far beyond anything he had experienced.

Unlike regular ghosts that could at least communicate, these spirits murmured like madmen or repeated the same actions endlessly—it was enough to drive someone insane.

“I’m sorry, but as long as the entity responsible for them has not ascended, these spirits will continue to appear,” Deimos replied.

“Wait… you don’t mean that the entity is…”

“…Even King Morgan likely cannot control them.”

As long as King Morgan did not ascend, the appearance of these spirits was inevitable.

Upon hearing this, Benphis paled but had no choice but to accept it.

Asking King Morgan for help was as good as asking for death. Instead, it was better to continue their investigation and gradually build their resilience.

Thus, the expedition members began carefully exploring the ancient ‘Library,’ which had existed for over 3,000 years.

A library—a vast repository of knowledge where countless books were gathered.

Even a single book from this place would be of immense value, let alone an entire library.

“My God… these are books! And not just one, but several!”

“Books from 3,000 years ago… Even having just one would be incredible, but so many…?”

The moment they saw the densely packed bookshelves, they couldn’t contain their astonishment.

Many bookshelves and books had been damaged by the Great Cataclysm, but due to the sheer size of the library, a considerable number of intact relics remained.

It was evident that scholars of the past had made desperate efforts to preserve these records, and their efforts had not been in vain.

What shocked the archaeologists the most was the sheer number of books, not just scrolls.

Even though this was a royal palace, they had never seen such a vast collection of ancient books before.

While books were easily accessible today thanks to advances in papermaking, in the distant past, they were exclusive to certain social classes.

Even parchment was difficult to obtain, yet here, an entire library filled with books had been preserved.

Furthermore, thanks to the scholars’ desperate efforts before the kingdom’s downfall, the books were in remarkably good condition, with their contents intact.

“Delphine, can you decipher this?”

“Let’s see… May 13th, Year 653. Huh? Year 653? But Alvenheim was founded about 3,500 years ago, wasn’t it?”

“Does that mean the Gerios Kingdom was established before Alvenheim?”

“That’s impossible… That can’t be right…”

Their initial excitement soon turned into overwhelming shock.

A randomly selected book hinted that the Gerios Kingdom had been established even before the civilization of Alvenheim, which had long been considered the first known civilization, founded 3,500 years ago.

The scholars struggled to believe it.

The Demon War had erupted approximately 3,000 years ago, but that date had only been estimated. For humanity, that era was as distant as myth.

However, Alvenheim, home to elves who could live up to 1,000 years, had never been invaded except during racial conflicts.

As a result, it had preserved far more detailed records than other civilizations, including the precise date of the Demon War’s outbreak.

“According to the sacred records, the Demon War—or rather, the first known encounter with demons—happened 2,940 years ago. That’s somewhat close to our previous estimates…”

“So, are you saying another civilization existed before Alvenheim, and Alvenheim was established later?”

“We don’t know yet. We need to examine the records more carefully. And this isn’t something we can determine on our own. Scholars from around the world will need to review this.”

The discovery that a civilization predating Alvenheim had existed—one established by humans rather than elves—was an earth-shattering revelation.

This truth alone could shake the entire world. Alvenheim, in particular, would likely refuse to believe it.

Despite their confusion, Benphis and Delphine continued searching for more records.

This required further study, but for now, they focused on verifying other documents.

“January 13th, Year 152…? There was written language even back then?”

“This seems to be an astronomical record. The constellations are detailed here, so I’m certain.”

Despite being submerged in the sea for thousands of years, the books and records were surprisingly well-preserved.

It was possible that the kingdom, considering its proximity to the sea, had developed special preservation techniques.

However, this was just speculation—extensive research would be needed.

Given that these ruins had been dormant for 3,000 years, studying them would take an equally long time.

As the archaeologists diligently examined the records to deepen their understanding of the Gerios Kingdom, Deimos could not help but feel uneasy.

He wished Benphis and Delphine would focus their attention elsewhere.

Discovering a civilization older than Alvenheim was already shocking, but according to prophecy, an even greater truth lay hidden.

Luminous, the divine entity, had stated that uncovering certain truths was permissible.

However, the deity had warned that some truths, like those buried deep beneath the ocean, must be cast away into the abyss.

What could this truth be?

For now, Deimos did not know. But one thing was certain—it would bring about a massive upheaval.

It might even affect the gods themselves. That, above all, had to be prevented.

“Hmm… Benphis. Delphine.”

“Yes?”

“What is it?”

The two archaeologists, engrossed in their research, looked up in confusion. They held scrolls with intricate illustrations in their hands.

Deimos, maintaining his characteristic gentle tone, presented them with an offer they could not refuse.

“Rather than studying the records stored in the library, wouldn’t you be interested in seeking out more profound documents? King Morgan already granted permission earlier, so it should be fine.”

“More profound documents?”

“I’m referring to records that only a king or someone of equivalent status could access.”

“Oh…!”

The moment they heard this, Benphis and Delphine’s eyes lit up with excitement.

Their expressions were like that of starving beggars suddenly presented with a feast.

Seeing their reactions, Deimos took their acceptance for granted and instructed the holy knights to escort them.

If this was a place restricted to royalty, then traps and monsters were likely present.

Finding the entrance would be their first challenge. Given that the palace itself was not particularly large, locating it should not be too difficult.

“…Is this the place?”

“No way.”

“But the door is wide open?”

Finding it proved easier than expected.

A massive, openly accessible door was situated at the back of the library.

Initially, its conspicuous openness raised suspicions, but once they recognized the royal insignia engraved upon it—identical to the one found on the audience chamber’s entrance—they nodded in understanding.

“There’s a passage leading underground?”

“That confirms it—these must be the most important records.”

“Let’s proceed carefully. Holy knights, be prepared for anything.”

Feeling as if they were venturing into a dungeon, the expedition members descended with tense expressions, illuminating their surroundings with divine light.

“This doesn’t look like a record-keeping chamber… It seems more like a crypt for kings.”

“Hmm… That’s unlikely. Royal tombs are typically housed in separate structures. The only issue is that everything outside has been wiped away.”

The underground passage was incredibly deep.

The air grew thin, making them wonder just how important these records were for such an advanced underground structure to exist in ancient times.

At last, they reached level ground.

“This place is…”

“There are… so many rooms.”

A long corridor stretched before them, lined with tightly sealed doors. The atmosphere was eerie and foreboding, as if something unsettling lurked beyond the doors.

Just as Benphis took a step forward, a holy knight swiftly raised an arm to stop him.

“We don’t know what’s inside. Proceed with caution.”

“Ah… Understood.”

“We should start with the closest room. There could be traps, so…”

Deimos abruptly stopped speaking.

The moment their holy light illuminated the corridor, the scene before them left them speechless.

There is indeed a trap. To be precise, only the ‘traces’ of a once-existing trap remain.

A massive iron club lay abandoned on the ground, and a huge boulder had fallen in the middle of the corridor.

Arrows, though small in comparison, were scattered all over the floor—clear evidence that someone had triggered the traps.

“Didn’t you say that the descendant came here first?”

“…Now that you mention it…”

King Morgan muttered, recalling that he himself had said his descendant had reached this place before.

It seemed likely that these traps had been activated by that very descendant.

Just in case, scholars were asked to estimate when the traps had been triggered.

“At most, no more than 30 years ago.”

“…I see.”

Thanks to that, they could now traverse the corridor effortlessly. Still, as a precaution, they activated a sacred barrier.

The expedition party proceeded to open the first door in front of them, just as they had planned.

However…

“…It won’t open?”

“There’s no handle. How are we supposed to open this?”

The door remained firmly shut, showing no signs of budging.

Perhaps it required a special key. They considered forcing it open but decided against it, wary of what might happen.

Instead, they tried to determine the nature of this corridor and its purpose.

“It seems to be the burial site of past kings, along with records about them.”

“How can you be sure?”

“The characters inscribed on the door are the same as the names we saw on the scrolls in the library earlier. They must be the names of kings.”

Indeed, above the door was an inscription in an ancient script. The expedition members nodded at Delphine’s explanation.

“In that case, there’s a good chance King Morgan’s records are here too…”

“Possibly. Though whether the door will open is another matter.”

“For now, it would be best to check the doors that are already open.”

None. There were none at all.

All the doors were sealed shut, and only the shattered remnants of traps filled their view.

The expedition members wondered—who could have passed through here and destroyed everything?

Still, thanks to this unknown figure, they could proceed without harm.

The corridor was longer than expected, yet the air remained breathable—another testament to ancient craftsmanship.

“Wait, over there! That door is open!”

One of the knights pointed ahead. The party turned their gazes in the indicated direction.

Indeed, unlike the others, one doorway stood wide open.

One peculiar detail was that there was no door directly across from it—nor was there a hallway continuing beyond.

If the countless doors they had passed were the tombs and archives of past kings, then this had to be King Morgan’s tomb.

It was only speculation, but the expedition members were inclined to believe it.

When they stepped inside what they presumed to be King Morgan’s tomb…

“A skeleton.”

“Judging by its structure, it’s not King Morgan.”

They found a skeleton seated at a desk, the remains of someone who had recorded the final moments of the Kingdom of Gerios.

Behind the desk, a rectangular stone tomb stood, confirming that this underground chamber was indeed a burial site for kings.

Unlike other nations, these kings had not been given grand mausoleums but had instead been enshrined underground—a simple yet humble tradition.

“No body.”

“Well, the kingdom was destroyed. That makes sense.”

Naturally, King Morgan’s remains were absent.

His body could not have remained intact—he had likely fought against demons until his last breath.

Even the archaeologists found nothing strange about this.

What truly caught their interest was the skeleton seated at the desk.

Benphis cautiously approached it.

Eventually, they discovered a single sheet of parchment atop the desk. However…

“Hm? What’s this? It looks like someone tried to burn it but stopped halfway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look here. The edge is scorched.”

Indeed, someone had attempted to burn the parchment but had not finished the job. Fortunately, the damage was minimal, allowing them to read its contents.

Still, the very fact that it had been damaged was an issue.

For the expedition members, every record was a treasure. Delphine clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Could this be the work of King Morgan’s descendant?”

“Who knows… Let’s read it first. This record was written in the kingdom’s final moments, after all.”

“Could you read it aloud for us?”

As the archaeologists prepared to decipher the text, Deimos suddenly interrupted with a request.

He instinctively knew—this was the ‘truth’ mentioned in the oracle.

There was no way this record would be here otherwise.

His voice was unusually urgent as he pleaded.

“For now, the rest of you, please wait outside.”

“Understood.”

Once even the knights had left the tomb, Deimos signaled to the archaeologists.

Though puzzled by his behavior, they slowly began reading the translation aloud.

“December 25, 942. I, Milek Malto, the final scribe of the Kingdom of Gerios, leave behind this last record.

I swear that everything written here is the truth.

This is our kingdom’s final legacy to the world.

To those who come after, do not repeat our mistakes.

And do not let the truth we uncovered be forgotten.”

“The Kingdom of Gerios took root at the westernmost edge of the continent, exploring both land and sea to obtain great power.

Though we faced countless hardships, we persevered and maintained our lineage.

But perhaps it was because of that…

No matter how powerful a mortal may become, they are but feeble before the wrath of the gods.

And we had forgotten that.”

Words that spoke both of reverence and fear toward the divine.

The writing was unexpectedly composed for someone witnessing their kingdom’s downfall.

Perhaps the lack of urgency stemmed from it being written down—but subtle signs in the penmanship revealed how frantic the author had been.

The letters were not entirely scribbled, but here and there, the hasty strokes betrayed his distress.

Benphis and Delphine carefully flattened the slightly curled parchment and continued reading.

“We thought we had settled at the westernmost edge, but through the sea, we explored the entire world.

Even when land routes were blocked, our powerful navy allowed us to dominate maritime trade.

In the end, we even annexed the cities that had once cut us off, absorbing them into the Kingdom of Gerios.

The sea granted us power.

But it also delivered a truth we were never meant to know.”

“That truth is…”

The archaeologists abruptly halted mid-sentence.

They exchanged glances before shifting their gaze toward Deimos.

Their faces were filled with shock, their eyes trembling with uncertainty.

Seeing their reaction, Deimos grew even more curious.

What kind of revelation could shake them so?

Why were they looking at him with such hesitation?

His thick eyebrows furrowed as he stared at them, then he calmly urged,

“Read on.”

“… …”

“… …”

The scholars exchanged glances once more, hesitation etched deep into their expressions.

Just as Deimos was about to lose patience and raise his voice, Delphine swallowed hard and, with a trembling voice, spoke.

“The truth is… This world has already been destroyed once in a war between the gods.”

“…What?”

“And…”

Regardless of Deimos’s shock, Delphine continued reading.

“In the wake of that destruction, the surviving mortals took root in this land.”

★★★

“Isaac.”

“Hm?”

“If you finish writing about your world, what kind of book will you write next?”

Isaac blinked at Mari’s question. They were enjoying a simple tea time together in their bedroom.

As their conversation wandered through various topics, Mari had suddenly brought this up.

Isaac looked up, blinking, then shrugged and answered.

“I do have one idea. Maybe a story about the world just before its destruction?”

“You’d write something like that? Is that even possible?”

“It’s not impossible. Our world had plenty of stories like that.”

Mari hesitated.

“But wouldn’t the gods be displeased?”

Isaac waved off her concern.

“Eh, it’s fine. It’s not like the world is actually going to end.”

Did he know?

That it had already ended once.

Of course not.

★★★★★