Celia opened her mouth, ready to correct the misunderstanding, but the old man had already lost interest in the conversation.
It was as if her words simply slid off him like water on stone.
Without waiting for clarification, Alaric Von Seraph turned on his heel and began walking away, his steps uneven but purposeful, weaving through the cluttered hall like someone who knew every broken board and misplaced bottle by memory alone.
Glass crunched faintly under his boots.
The smell of alcohol lingered thick in the air, clinging to the walls, the furniture, even the silence itself.
Celia's lips pressed into a thin line.
Arceus glanced at her.
She glanced back.
A quiet exchange.
Unspoken.
Then both of them moved.
***
They followed.
Step by step, deeper into the tavern-like hall, past overturned chairs and tables stained with years of neglect. The farther they walked, the dimmer the light became, until shadows stretched longer and heavier, swallowing details into vague shapes.
At the far end—
A corner.
Darker than the rest.
And there—
An old staircase.
***
It descended downward.
Narrow.
Steep.
Wooden.
Each step groaned under their weight, the sound echoing faintly as if the place itself was reluctant to let them pass.
Celia slowed slightly.
Arceus noticed.
For a moment, his hand twitched.
Almost reaching.
Then stopped.
They continued down.
Spiraling.
Lower.
And lower.
***
The air changed.
Cooler.
Heavier.
Damp.
Cobwebs clung to the corners, thick and layered, undisturbed for what felt like years. The walls were lined with rusted pipes, some bent, some cracked, none of them carrying anything anymore.
It felt like stepping into something forgotten.
Abandoned.
Buried beneath time.
***
At the center—
A door.
Large.
Metallic.
Half-hidden under dust and threads of silk.
***
Alaric stepped forward.
His hand reached out, fingers wrapping around the old handle.
For a moment—
Nothing.
Then—
He pulled.
***
The door groaned.
A deep, dragging sound that echoed through the basement like something waking up from a long sleep.
A rush of stale air burst outward.
Cold.
Dry.
Carrying the scent of age.
***
Inside—
Darkness.
Complete.
Absolute.
It swallowed the light at the threshold, leaving nothing visible beyond it.
***
"Come inside."
Alaric stepped forward.
And vanished.
***
Arceus paused.
Just for a breath.
His chest rose.
Fell.
A faint tightening in his throat.
This… doesn't feel normal.
He glanced at Celia.
She met his gaze.
No words.
Just a small nod.
***
They stepped in.
Together.
***
—Fwoosh!
***
Wind.
Warm.
Alive.
It rushed past him like a sudden breath of a different world, brushing against his skin, lifting the fabric of his clothes, carrying with it the scent of grass… and something faintly sweet.
Arceus's eyes widened.
"What… the…"
***
The darkness was gone.
Replaced.
Completely.
***
Under his feet—
Grass.
Tall.
Golden.
It brushed against his legs with a soft, whispering friction, bending gently as the wind passed through it.
The ground felt real.
Firm.
Alive.
***
The air—
Clean.
Fresh.
It filled his lungs with a sharp clarity he hadn't felt in days.
Dew.
Flowers.
Sunlight—
No.
Not sunlight.
Because when he looked up—
There was no sun.
Yet the sky was bright.
Endlessly blue.
***
Behind him—
A rocky outcrop.
A narrow cave entrance.
Silent.
Still.
***
Arceus turned slowly, his senses struggling to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.
His heartbeat quickened.
Not from fear.
But from the sheer impossibility of it.
***
A laugh echoed.
Soft.
Low.
Amused.
***
They turned.
***
Alaric stood there.
But—
Not the same.
***
The drunken slouch was gone.
His back was straight.
His stance steady.
His eyes—
Clear.
Sharp.
Focused.
***
"Welcome," he said, spreading his arms slightly, his voice now carrying a quiet authority that hadn't existed before.
"To Spirit Valley."
***
"Spirit… Valley?" Arceus repeated under his breath.
***
He looked out.
And finally saw them.
***
Shapes.
Flickers.
Forms that weren't fully there.
***
Across the field, figures drifted.
Some like wolves, their bodies made of mist and memory, their paws never quite touching the ground. Others like birds, wings dissolving into particles as they moved. Serpents coiled through the air, their bodies fading in and out like smoke caught in wind.
Cats.
Foxes.
Creatures of every kind.
All—
Translucent.
Flickering.
Unstable.
***
Celia inhaled sharply.
Her voice came out almost as a whisper.
"These… are these… spirit monsters?"
***
Alaric appeared beside her.
So suddenly it almost felt like he had always been there.
"You know your stuff, beauty," he said, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
***
But Celia didn't respond.
Her eyes remained fixed on the field.
Unblinking.
***
Alaric's expression shifted.
Subtle.
But real.
***
"Yes," he said, his voice lowering, losing its earlier playfulness.
"These are spirit monsters."
He gestured toward the drifting figures.
"Creatures who once had masters… and died protecting them."
***
The wind stirred.
Grass bent.
The spirits flickered.
***
"Normally," he continued, "when a monster dies, its spirit dissipates. It returns to nature… becomes energy again."
A pause.
"But some… refuse."
***
His eyes darkened slightly.
***
"Their will is too strong."
"They linger."
"They wander."
***
Arceus watched a ghostly fox circle in the distance, its form rippling like smoke caught in water.
***
"Over time," Alaric said, "those wandering souls… change."
"They grow unstable."
"Angry."
"Desperate."
***
His voice hardened.
"They possess humans."
"They cause chaos."
"They become threats."
***
A beat of silence.
Then—
"We capture them."
***
His gaze swept across the valley.
"This guild… was tasked with sealing them."
***
The wind picked up slightly.
A faint, distant howl echoed.
Not loud.
But… restless.
***
"They're still hungry," Alaric muttered.
"For a second chance."
***
Arceus's brows drew together slightly.
His chest felt tight.
Not from fear.
But from something else.
Something heavier.
***
Then—
Alaric turned.
And looked directly at him.
***
"Listen carefully, boy."
***
The tone changed.
Completely.
***
Gone was the drunk.
Gone was the humor.
What remained—
Was clarity.
***
"You want to become a monster tamer."
A pause.
"But you have no mana."
***
The words landed clean.
Sharp.
Unavoidable.
***
"You're a plainfolk."
***
Celia's gaze shifted between them.
Tension crept into her posture.
***
"And that," Alaric continued, "is a fact."
***
He pointed toward the field.
***
"In your case… unless you are an innate soul…"
A slight narrowing of his eyes.
"…there is no future for you on this path."
***
Silence.
***
Then—
He gestured again.
***
"If you truly are one…"
"One of them will come to you."
***
The spirits drifted.
Unaware.
Uninterested.
***
"Not because you call them."
"Not because you force them."
***
His voice lowered.
***
"But because they choose you."
***
Celia's eyes widened slightly.
***
"If a spirit monster willingly approaches you," Alaric said, "we can extract its essence."
"Seal it."
"Rebirth it."
***
He tapped his temple lightly.
"Into an unfertilized egg."
***
"It will be reborn."
***
A pause.
***
"Tied to your soul."
***
Celia turned sharply.
"That's… possible?"
***
Alaric exhaled slowly.
"It is."
A beat.
"But rare."
"Costly."
***
His gaze hardened.
"And irreversible."
***
He stepped closer to Arceus.
Each step measured.
Heavy.
***
"Once formed…"
"You cannot sever it."
"You cannot replace it."
***
A quiet breath.
***
"You won't be a true tamer."
"No shared damage."
"No vision link."
"No spellcasting."
***
Another step.
***
"But…"
A faint glint appeared in his eyes.
"…it will be loyal."
***
"That alone…"
"…is enough to survive."
***
Arceus's gaze drifted back to the field.
***
Spirits moved.
Faded.
Reformed.
None of them—
Came closer.
***
His chest tightened slightly.
***
"How long?" he asked.
***
"One hour."
***
Alaric didn't hesitate.
***
"If nothing comes to you…"
A small pause.
"…you'll be sent back."
***
A longer pause.
***
"And that means…"
***
His voice dropped.
***
"You're not meant for this path."
***
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Still.
***
And then—
***
Ding!
***
The sound struck his mind like a spark hitting dry tinder.
Sharp.
Clear.
Impossible to ignore.
***
[Emergency Quest Triggered – Fortuitous Encounter Detected]
Objective: Choose a spirit monster that resonates with you.
Timelimit: 60 minutes
Reward: The chosen spirit monster will be added to the Summoner's Shop permanently.
***
Arceus froze.
His breath hitched.
***
"An… Emergency Quest?"