Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

A square stone table illuminated only where an oil lamp was placed on one half. There was a round stone stool beside the table that appeared to be fixed to the ground, immovable.

Mr. Riddle picked up his robe and sat down, with Shard standing behind him.

As Mr. Riddle took his seat, a soft "puff" sounded from the opposite side of the table. In the thick darkness of the other half of the room, which was completely impenetrable to the light, a faint yellow flame emerged.

Almost positioned symmetrically to the kerosene lamp at Mr. Riddle's side, a white stub of candle that had been burnt before appeared at the edge of the table on the other side. Wax had accumulated at the base of the candle, evidencing its previous use.

Its light was still diminutive, the size of a soybean, but at least it illuminated the other half of the table, revealing an enigmatic figure cloaked in black and hooded, seated opposite and who knows when it had appeared.

The scene was exceedingly terrifying; before this moment, the darkness on the other half of the room was entirely obscure. Therefore, neither Mr. Riddle nor Shard could confirm whether this figure had been quietly sitting there, observing their conversation, or had just appeared.

The arrival of the stranger made the air in the room feel as if it solidified in an instant, freezing the entire room. It was not just a physical constraint that was felt; the spiritual pressure caused Shard to frown.

Mr. Riddle gave a muffled grunt and collapsed onto the stone table in front of him, taking quite some time to finally lift his head with the support of the table surface.

Faint glimmering gold light appeared on the surface of Shard's clothes and skin. The information provided by Mr. Riddle was indeed correct. This table had really summoned a deity.

However, the pressure exerted on them by the deity's emergence was even less than that of the self-proclaimed "powerless" Creator of Innocence. Shard speculated this was because the method to summon the deity was not through a ritual but through the use of an Unclassified Level Relic.

The figure was not the deity's true form, nor a saint, but merely a phantom of the deity. Yet, this made sense because, according to Mr. Riddle, the purpose of summoning the deity was for a wager, and it would be a case of putting the cart before the horse if the deity's presence disrupted the game itself.

The light cast by the bowl-like black porcelain oil lamp and the short candle finally allowed Shard to see the table surface entirely.

The surface of the stone table was uneven; there were ten rectangular grooves in front of both the shadowy figure in black and Mr. Riddle.

The twenty grooves were placed in two parallel rows. On the side of each square groove facing the center of the table, tiny channels extended outwards. The twenty densely packed channels interconnected, making the table surface resemble a complex circuit pattern, reminiscent of what Outlanders might see in their homeland.

"Deity!"

Shard and Mr. Riddle bowed their heads respectfully to the figure opposite; it was the most basic form of respect. However, there was neither sound nor movement from beneath the black cloak.

Instead, amidst the terrifying pressure that petrified the air, the corpses by the wall were influenced by this power and began chanting in low voices together. This scene truly made Shard's scalp tingle.

"This is the game of life!"

"Ten chances to place moments of your life in sequence."

"Sorrowful life."

"Pitiable life."

"Ridiculous life."

"Terrifying life."

"The deity will compare the lives of believers with yours."

"Each life interacts with each other."

"Until the end."

"A comparison between ten life segments."

"The victor may leave!"

"Praise be to our Lord!"

The corpses recited this passage in three different tones, repeating it three times with precision before stopping.

This was probably the rule of the wager. Ten life segments not only had to be compared with the opponent, but one's own life would also interact, producing a more formidable power.

But Shard still did not understand:

"What constitutes victory? What does it mean to compare lives?"

But the corpses didn't answer. Seated Mr. Riddle gestured with his hand for Shard to stop, speaking in a dazed tone:

"I think I understand. Use all the incredible moments of your life to contend with another's life... "

He placed his hand over the first groove to his left, hesitating a long while before removing it.

And within what was previously an empty groove, there now lay a perfectly fitted playing card. This colorful card depicted Mr. Riddle cowering under a tombstone, with horrifyingly vast shadows behind it. Though it was just a two-dimensional image, to Shard it felt surprisingly three-dimensional, as if the shadows were actually crawling on the surface of the card.

The gilded text gradually appeared at the top of the card, and after interpreting it, its meaning was "Resurrection of the Deceased".

"I once encountered a powerful Evil Spirit."

Mr. Riddle looked down at the card as Shard showed a surprised expression, indicating that this gentleman's life experiences were richer than he had imagined.

"It was about ten years ago, in pursuit of some precious wild medicinal materials, I ventured alone into the eastern mountainous region of the Southern Continent and lived with the villagers in a small mountain village for three months, but..."

"You discovered that those villagers had long died, and in fact, you were living with the dead under the illusion for three months."

Shard said.

"How did you know?"

Mr. Riddle was quite surprised.

"Hmm... where I come from, this is a pretty common tale. Sorry to interrupt your story, but Mr. Riddle, how did you escape?"

Shard didn't mean to belittle the Ancient Prophet in front of him, but as an ordinary person, he might struggle to combat even common Evil Spirits, let alone a village of Undead deep in the mountains.

The middle-aged man showed a puzzled expression:

"How did I escape... Sorry, my memory is a bit blurry. Having lived here for so long, I seem to have lost a lot of memories."

Fortunately, after recalling for a while, Mr. Riddle still provided an answer:

"It was dusk on a certain day when I returned to the village entrance after gathering herbs. On a whim, I used a mirror to look at the village and then discovered that I was actually standing in a dilapidated graveyard. I was extremely scared, huddled under a tombstone, not daring to move. Those Evil Spirits called my name, peering around me, but they couldn't catch me. I didn't dare move until daylight returned when I hurriedly fled. I was almost starved to death when I encountered an adventuring team entering the mountains... Later, I sought the advice of a Witch from the association, and even she didn't know how I managed to survive. People followed the map I provided to look for that graveyard, but it was nowhere to be found."

Shard didn't know how to evaluate Mr. Riddle's experience, but it sounded very much like an encounter with a powerful Relic. Based on the description, something so vast and replete with so many Evil Spirits would undoubtedly rank no lower than Sage Level.

While the two were conversing, a glimmer of light emerged from the first square recess across the table from the deity in the black robe, and a card appeared as well. It depicted a beautiful woman, a Witch, holding her right hand up towards the sun in the sky.

Black light flowed from the "Resurrection of the Deceased" recess along the slender grooves on the table surface; golden light also flowed from the Witch's card recess pointing towards the sun, along the grooves on the stone table.

The two streams of light met in the middle of the table. At the moment when the black and gold touched, a large array of phantom Evil Spirits appeared above "Resurrection of the Deceased," and a small female phantom appeared above the recess in front of the deity.

The two projections-like phantoms flew towards the center of the table under Shard's astonished gaze, and they actually started fighting. The battle lasted five minutes before they separately retreated back above the filled card recesses, waiting for their companions to arrive.

Shard watched, dumbfounded—not because he was stunned by the scene that had just unfolded, having read all sorts of strange stories back in his homeland. He just felt that, compared to his previous temporal explorations, this time was... really quite fascinating.

"Mr. Riddle, do you have any more peculiar experiences?"

Although he knew it wasn't quite right to feel this way, Shard asked his companion excitedly, hoping for more stories.

The middle-aged man with thick eyebrows wearing a brown robe frowned deeply, then suddenly slapped his sparse-haired head:

"Sorry, I know I have had many experiences, but I really can't... Dragons! Yes, I've encountered a Dragon!"

In Shard's surprised and excited expression, the man in the brown robe placed his hand over the second recess beside him.

When Mr. Riddle's hand was removed, the colorful card was embedded in the recess, depicting Mr. Riddle running frantically through the forest with a huge creature spitting fire in the sky behind him.

The gilded text appeared at the top of the card, emerging like flowing fire, with the meaning "Dragon Catastrophe".

The Dragon appearing on the card was a true Pureblood Great Dragon, unlike those resembling doves that Shard had seen in the wilderness of Maze Lock. There were no records of such a being during the Sixth Era; even the textbooks of Saint Byrons only sketched the general appearance of Dragons. Thus, this could be considered the first time Shard saw the true appearance of a Dragon.

The Dragon looked uglier than Shard had imagined, and it seemed that Saint Byrons's textbook illustrations had been beautified.

"This happened when I was twenty years old."

Mr. Riddle supported his forehead, trying hard to extract information from his head:

"That year, I... went on a vacation to the Black Forest in the southern part of the Eastern Continent with friends."

Shard found it hard to imagine what kind of people would vacation in a forest with such a name. But given the man's life experiences, he was probably quite keen on adventure.

"We discovered an opening in the cliffs of a small hill in the forest and wagered it was the den of some animal. Unable to agree, we climbed in to check, and afterward..."

He showed a sorrowful expression, but his recollections became smoother:

"Only I survived. The Dragon probably thought we were there to steal his stuff. It chased me for a long distance before a Witch living in the Black Forest drove it away. But then the Witch said I had brought the Dragon that burned down the forest, and she forced me to sign a contract to replant a hundred saplings in the forest each year until I died or compensated all of the losses. If I didn't, my soul would feel the torment of being burnt constantly... I've finished planting this year's quota and then started this journey. Next year, the year after, and years following, I must continue. It has become a responsibility of my lifetime, which is why I can remember this experience."

Shard kept a straight face, making no comment. Judging by the level of disdain the Witches of the Fifth Era held for men, being sentenced to plant saplings every year was a rather mild punishment for Mr. Riddle.