Chapter – 11
The Road to Franz
It had been ten days since we set out for Franz.
As always, time felt fleeting only in hindsight.
People often say that when they’re going through something exhausting and difficult, it feels endless—but once it’s over, they boast, “Eh, it was nothing.”
I was no different.
Traveling for ten days with someone who couldn’t see, marching but not quite a march—of course it wasn’t easy.
And yet, now that it was over, it didn’t feel that bad.
One finds oneself thinking that without meaning to.
All that long explanation is just to say: I had arrived in Franz.
Under the blue sky and mountain greens—there lay a blotch of gray, like a painter had spilled the wrong color over the canvas of vibrant life.
The city of Franz—no, the ruins of Franz—looked no different from when I saw them four months ago.
Life sucked dry.
Silent, as if time had stopped.
Ah—something had changed.
There were guards posted on the city outskirts.
I approached one of them.
He was dozing off, probably from a sleepless night. He only raised his head with a cough when he sensed us nearby.
Brown leather armor.
A spear made of cheap iron full of impurities.
The most typical image of a guard in this era, on this continent, in this kingdom.
He seemed curious—or suspicious—that anyone would come to such a remote place.
“You got business in Franz? Whatever it is, you won’t get to do it. As you can see, the place is a complete wasteland.”
“Can you let us in?”
“Well—saying ‘go ahead, do as you please’ would be easiest for both of us, but the higher-ups are strict. So, no.”
The higher-ups probably meant the kingdom’s nobles.
I mentally ran through a few of them, then dismissed the thought.
“There’s something I left behind. It’ll only take a moment.”
“No can do. Royal decree. No one is to be let inside. They said anyone who steps one foot past the boundary without authorization will be severely punished. The order was deadly serious.”
“That’s a problem… I came too far to just go back.”
He looked like he wanted to ask why I was so desperate to get into a barren wasteland, but he didn’t voice the question.
Aileen quietly observed from behind.
The guard’s eyes flicked toward her from time to time, then returned to me as if seeing nothing.
I decided to play it up a bit.
“Damn it, this is a direct request from the Guildmaster. I can’t return empty-handed.”
Aileen leaned in and whispered:
“Heavens above. This is my first time hearing a man boldly say ‘damn it’ out loud.”
“……”
If we’re doing firsts, it’s also my first time hearing someone talk like you.
I wanted to snap back, but swallowed the words.
The irritation churned in my gut.
But the guard reacted to one word in particular.
“Guildmaster?”
“The Sword Sage of Wind-Forest-Mountain.”
“So you’re with Wind-Forest-Mountain. Didn’t realize. The Sword Sage entrusted this to you? You look young… impressive.”
“So… any way you could let us through?”
“Nope. Orders are orders. I’m not here to control entry—I’m here to forbid it. I don’t have the authority to let you in.”
“Then who does?”
“…This is tricky. Wind-Forest-Mountain and the Sword Sage… I can’t just refuse outright. Everyone else is away eating, and I’m the only one left here. I’d call someone, but I can’t abandon my post. Wait for the officer in charge to return. But you’ll need to prove you’re really on Wind-Forest-Mountain business.”
“Understood.”
We waited quietly.
Before long, three people approached from a distance.
The guard spoke to the man in front—likely the officer.
He stroked a beard of uncertain length—unclear whether grown on purpose or from neglect—then questioned me.
“You’re from Wind-Forest-Mountain? Sent by the Sword Sage?”
“Yes.”
“Show me. You must have something as proof.”
I took out the platinum coin I had kept safe in my pocket.
He must have expected a letter or wax-sealed parchment; his face briefly stiffened. Then, recognizing the coin, his eyes widened.
Suspicion filled his gaze.
“May I take a closer look?”
I handed it over without fuss.
He examined it thoroughly, holding it to the sunlight with exaggerated care.
I wondered whether such a method could really tell if it was forged—but kept the thought to myself.
“I saw one of these once… about thirty years ago, when I was a rookie. I remember it well. This looks real.”
“You can tell after thirty years?”
“You don’t forget the greatest honor of your life. See the dots on the pattern? Look closely—those aren’t dots, they’re more drawings. Do you think human hands can make such fine detail? This is the work of the fae. …Or so I was told.”
“Couldn’t another fae have crafted an identical one?”
“The fae vanished half a century ago. Common knowledge. Why do you sound so unconvinced? Are you a swindler? Is this fake?”
“It isn’t.”
“Then what’s the problem? I’m the chief investigator assigned here by royal order. You are the Sword Sage’s proxy. I hold the authority to grant entry, and you have business here. And… I owe the Sword Sage a personal debt. I’ve always wanted to repay it if possible. Never had the chance—until now. I’m rather glad for it.”
He spoke too much at once and exhaled.
Then, with a faint trace of regret, he added:
“I’ll let you in on one condition. Tell the Sword Sage this for me: that the simpleton he saved during the civil war—just as Baronus commanded—has been living well.”
“I can do that.”
Satisfied, he smiled and pointed to the ruins.
“Go on.”
The city was silent.
There were no cawing crows like in typical depictions of ruins,
no creepy presence crawling under the skin,
no strange aura in the air.
Only gray buildings, gray streets, gray fields.
That was all.
It felt less like reality than a monochrome photograph.
Aileen frowned.
“Skeletons. Wraiths. Eyes. Those were the things thou hadst spoken of. Dost thou sense anything here?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Nor do I. But it matters not. What I seek is the sigil said to have been carved in the sky.”
I led her to the tallest structure in the ruins.
The bell tower.
The place where I was first summoned to Istalnisia.
One side of the building had collapsed completely, exposing its hollow interior. It looked ready to crumble at any moment—no way we could safely investigate inside.
“This is it. The place where I was summoned.”
Aileen didn’t respond.
She was deep in thought.
I searched the surrounding area without straying far from her.
The gray materials that made up the structure were so brittle that a gloved fist could probably break them apart.
I was inspecting for some time when Aileen spoke uncertainly:
“It is not that nothing can be felt… the earth itself is strange. Beneath it. Thou—go fifteen paces northeast from where I stand.”
“Here? One… two… three… Can’t go farther because of the building.”
“Then we must enter. Lead the way.”
The inside was empty except for heaps of ash-like debris.
Aileen coughed from the dust but urged me on.
I moved to the spot she directed.
Exactly on the twelfth step—
“Stop. Right there.”
“Below me?”
She nodded. I rummaged through my bag.
The sound drew her curiosity.
“What seekest thou?”
“A shovel.”
“A shovel? For what purpose hast thou brought that?”
“You never know. Ah—got it.”
I dug.
The shovel sank easily into the ground with each step of my boot.
I pushed the debris aside and dug deeper.
Sweat beaded on my brow and nose, and when a breeze blew, I felt gray dust cling to it.
I probably looked a mess.
But no one was watching, so I didn’t care.
Just when my back began to ache enough to make me want to quit—
Clang.
The shovel hit something solid.
Eyes brightening, I cleared more dirt.
A black circular hatch emerged.
Lifting it revealed stairs descending into darkness.
Found it.
I asked Aileen for light.
Still wearing a complex expression, she reluctantly conjured a glowing white orb to illuminate the dark.
The staircase was absurdly long.
A quick glance suggested that even after descending four hundred steps, the end might not be in sight.
If someone slipped, they would be severely injured.
I worried more for Aileen than for myself.
I took it slow and helped her down.
“These stairs are strange. At times they twist sharply, at times they curve gently. Who would build such a thing?”
“No idea.”
“And if the goal is to go downward, stairs alone sufficed—why is the surrounding space so empty? Should one fall, thou wouldst be splattered like jam.”
She was right.
At some point the enclosing walls vanished, leaving us on a staircase suspended over empty void.
I had no idea how the stairs remained intact.
From below or above, there seemed to be no support at all.
As if they were floating.
It felt magical.
And despite the many steps, each was oddly shallow—maybe five centimeters high. Even after four hundred steps, we hadn’t descended that far from the entrance.
The more I thought about it, the stranger it was.
We kept going.
Aileen paused, pressing a hand to her forehead—weary from having to focus on every step.
“This is worse than the forest on the first day. Canst thou see the end?”
“Not yet.”
“Phew. Climbing back up will be dreadful.”
An idea struck me—I pulled out something from my bag.
A rock-hard piece of bread, long stale.
I tossed it downward lightly. It fell fast, then hit bottom with a dull thud.
Judging by that, if we descended about as much as we already had, we’d reach the floor.
And indeed, soon after, we reached the bottom.
Nothing surrounded us.
Truly nothing.
Aileen sensed something off, but I knew.
There was supposed to be nothing here.
Nothing.
No powerful enemy, no legendary treasure, no spark of hope—none of those cliché tropes.
Nothing at all.
I recalled the lines from The Chronicles of Istalnisia:
**[And at long last, Juhyuk and the strike party discovered something in the city.
It began when Nox said something seemed strange under the collapsed bell tower.
The group soon found a hidden passage to the underground.
Juhyuk drew his sword and carefully entered first.
Irmilla summoned spirits of light to illuminate the way.
After descending for quite some time—
The long, long stairs finally ended.But there was nothing there.
“They wouldn’t build this for no reason, right?”
Hibiki sheathed her spear with a sigh.
Everyone thought the same.But Hyacinth’s magic, Irmilla’s spirits, Lacromata Diaren’s intuition, even Rama Ren’s luck—none could uncover anything in the chamber.
They dug into the ground with their hands if they had to, trying every method.There truly was nothing.
Everyone felt sure of it.So what purpose did this hidden chamber serve?
Hyacinth, uneasy, suggested they return.
The group hesitated, reluctant to leave without answers.
And so, the first to notice it was Hyacinth—when she stepped onto the stairs.
Something about the faint outline visible through the darkness caught her eye.
Her brain knew something—if only it could speak.
She shuddered in frustration; something felt wrong, something gnawed at her, but she couldn’t name what.“Ah!” she cried.
All eyes turned to her.Hyacinth wove runes with both hands.
A crimson bird of flame shot upward through the chamber.
The bird’s light revealed the truth.The stairs were not randomly built nor poorly designed as some had complained.
One could only see the true form from below.The long staircase itself formed a sigil.
A triangle within a circle.
A circle within that triangle.
A triangle within that circle.
A dot at the center of that triangle.Some did not understand what they were looking at; others, recognizing it, grew pale.
Adelopiana, Isabel, and Kang Juhyuk were among them.
Juhyuk clenched his teeth.
If we had discovered this sooner…
Could we have stopped it?
When would we have needed to find it in order to prevent it?No—pointless thoughts.
The past could not be changed.Better to think of what could still be done.
“We’re returning!”]**
