Lucian stepped forward, walking side by side with Hakkan.
They had reached the end of the narrow path. Ahead was a vast, open chamber—so wide it demanded a leap down to continue. Countless stone coffins lay scattered across the ground, their surfaces entwined with the thick roots of ancient trees, as though the land itself whispered of a forgotten age.
In the distance, a golden sapling glowed with soft, divine light, its radiance illuminating a stone stairway that led upward to a desolate, silent ruin. The stairway was flanked by four statues of armless, veiled women—silent sentinels that stood watch, judging all who dared approach.
"This is definitely an ancient tomb," Hakkan declared with certainty.
"Tombs like this are dangerous. They're often guarded by Sentry Stone, and sometimes by death-born creatures that just won't die."
He glanced around warily, gripping his weapon tighter.
"If this were any other situation, just the two of us? I'd never go in. And to my knowledge, tombs like this usually don't have another way out. But right now, we have no choice. We'll just have to hope for the best."
Lucian, on the other hand, could barely contain his excitement.
He knew this place—knew it well.
While the game's introductory Stranded Graveyard, designed for tutorial purposes, no longer seemed to exist, this place's terrain and layout were unmistakable. It was the first real area players reached after leaving the Chapel of Anticipation—The Stranded Graveyard.
Contrary to Hakkan's fears, the area itself posed little threat. It was merely a corridor, a transitional zone leading to the deeper and far more dangerous Fringefolk Hero's Grave.
Now it all made sense.
In the game, the player was supposed to wash up on the beach and find their way through the cave to this very point. But here, Lucian had fallen straight from the Chapel into the sealed entrance of the Stranded Graveyard—clearly, something in this world had changed.
And there was one cave in the game that connected the beach to this area—the Coastal Cave, part of the ancient ruins along the shore.
It all lined up.
Then Lucian suddenly recalled—there was something to be picked up in this area. He couldn't quite remember what it was, but he figured it was worth checking.
"Hakkan, over there. Looks like there's something. Mind giving me some light?"
"Hmm? Where exactly?"
Lucian pointed to a darker section just beyond the torchlight's reach.
Hakkan stepped forward, holding the torch high. The flames revealed a withered skeleton slumped against the wall. Its clothing had long since rotted away, but something on its chest caught the light—gleaming faintly.
Hakkan bent down, retrieved the item from the corpse, examined it briefly, then tossed it over to Lucian.
"Eh? You're not keeping it?"
Lucian caught it, and a small line of text flashed across his vision—Sacred Scorpion Charm.
"I've already been paid," Hakkan shrugged. "Take it. Seems like a charm that resists certain powers, but I doubt it's anything too special."
Lucian raised a brow. This guy was the type to haggle over every rune and relic, but now he was giving away loot? Unexpectedly generous.
He didn't argue. The charm wasn't all that useful, and he hadn't been expecting much—but his collector's instincts had kicked in. Since it had been offered freely, he accepted it without hesitation.
After checking the area for anything else of value and finding nothing, the two of them leapt down one by one. The white wolf followed gracefully behind.
The warhorse, however, posed more of a problem. Horses were fragile when it came to vertical drops. A misstep from that height could easily mean a shattered leg.
So the two men stood below, arms outstretched, and braced themselves. With a loud grunt and a bit of coordinated effort, they managed to catch the beast and guide it safely to the ground.
After a brief and fruitless search for any hidden exits or paths, they returned to the looming door at the end of the chamber—the entrance to the tomb.
The half-burned candles and the silent, staring statues on either side gave Hakkan a growing sense of unease.
"This tomb's design... it's clearly of high importance. We need to be careful."
Lucian nodded solemnly, putting on a grave expression to match. Inside, though, he was calm—he already knew what lay ahead.
Hakkan stepped forward and pushed against the heavy stone door. Dust billowed as it opened with a grinding groan, revealing a space lit by the pale, cold flicker of candlelight. It was like crossing into another world—one shrouded in silence, spiderwebs, and ancient bones.
Hakkan raised his curved greatsword and began to move cautiously forward.
To their surprise, the tomb remained eerily quiet. No traps. No moving statues. Just empty halls and a single chamber up ahead, veiled by a dense mist.
In front of the mist wall stood a small stone imp statue.
Lucian recognized it immediately—this was the entrance to the Fringefolk Hero's Grave, locked by two Stonesword Keys.
But what caught his attention even more was what had appeared at his feet.
A soft, glowing light rose from the ground—a Site of Grace.
Lucian stepped forward, reaching out to the warmth. The flames were not real fire, more like the lingering warmth beneath a lantern's glow. It was soothing, peaceful.
And in that moment, he felt something strange. A connection—subtle, intangible—form between him and the Grace.
"Lucian... what are you doing?"
Hakkan watched him in confusion as he reached toward what, in Hakkan's eyes, was empty air.
To him, it looked like Lucian was touching a ghost—or worse, that he had fallen under some kind of curse.
But Lucian said nothing.
He only smiled, hand still resting in the light.
He had returned to the Lands Between.
And this time, he was not alone.