Amon and the others walked through the darkness, one hundred meters in the indicated direction. As the iron door came into view, a flicker of unease surfaced within him.
"Damn it," he muttered. "So, the organisation is called the Descent of the God's Domain?"
His thoughts tightened.
"We were told it was the organisation. That damn Nuez said nothing about this."
He turned slightly. "Leon, I think we may have been exposed."
"Why?" Leon asked, confused, stepping closer to his side.
"When we were about to enter the cage, I said organisation. That was a mistake. This place is called the Descent of the God's Domain. And I think the cage might have heard us when I shouted that. After all, if it spoke to us, maybe it can hear?" he doubtfully asked.
Leon frowned. "I understand the cage can speak, but I'm not certain it can hear. What if it is simply programmed to respond that way when newcomers attempt to enter the Descent of the God's Domain?"
"Perhaps," Amon replied. "But remain alert. Just in case. Inform the others."
"Alright."
They continued forward.
Within moments, they stood before the iron door.
"Let's see what awaits us on the other side," Leon murmured.
With a loud creak and a harsh screech, Amon pushed the iron door open, releasing a flood of light into their faces. Though they had stood in darkness moments before, the sudden brightness did not overwhelm them. They merely narrowed their eyes.
They stepped beyond the iron threshold and entered the Descent of the God's Domain.
A brilliant white sun hung in the sky, drifting clouds cradling it as though offering a seat. It was evening, and its pale radiance washed over the desolate sands before them.
Rusty, jagged iron crosses were planted deep into the barren ground, reflecting the white light with a dull gleam. Hundreds of thousands stood in flawless rows and columns, aligned with unsettling precision.
Upon those rusted, sharpened crosses hung skeletons. Tattered remains, their bones creaking faintly in the wind. The tip of each cross had pierced through the heart of every skeleton, holding them in eternal suspension.
Amon and the others moved deeper into the desolate land, weaving through the vast maze of suspended skeletons. Dust-laden wind swept across the sand, occasionally forcing one of them to stifle a sneeze.
As they reached the end of the grim procession of crosses, a massive spiralling staircase rose before them. The steps gleamed gold, streaked with dripping white paint that fell like thin droplets of rain onto the sand below. The railings were smeared with dried blood. Small draconic insects circled lazily around them, pressing sharp proboscises into the crusted stains to feed.
A dense mist coiled around the staircase, veiling whatever lay above.
"What on earth is this?" Amon muttered. A faint frown crossed his face as he shook his head once.
"Let's go."
Without hesitation, they began ascending the towering spiral. The hem of Amon's red robe dragged softly against the steps as he climbed. The others followed close behind, their footprints marking the streaked white paint as they rose into the shrouded heights.
As they ascended, Amon found his thoughts growing restless. What lay beyond the veiled heights? How far did the staircase extend? Why were countless skeletons suspended below, pierced upon sharpened crosses? And where exactly were they? Were they still within Valereith Citadel, or had they stepped into another realm entirely?
The higher they climbed, the thicker the veil became. Yet paradoxically, the mist felt lighter, thinning just enough to reveal faint glimpses of what lay above. The white paint along the steps began to dry beneath the sun's intensity. The crusted blood on the railings evaporated into a faint red vapor that drifted upward, and the draconic insects scattered into the air.
Soon, the sun neared the end of its cycle and descended into quiet rest. The moon rose in its pale authority, casting silver light across the desolate lands below, the forest of suspended skeletons, the backs of Amon and his companions, and the winding staircase itself.
"How much longer?" Shingen muttered. "We've been climbing for nearly an hour."
"Be patient. We will reach the top soon," Amon replied, turning slightly to offer him a faint smile.
Shingen narrowed his eyes and shook his head lightly. They continued upward.
After some time, the veil began to part. The mist fell away behind them, revealing an endless sky overhead. What had once concealed their path now appeared as nothing more than drifting clouds far below.
At last, they stepped onto the final stair. They stood above the clouds, above the veil, above the mist, above the desolate lands. They stood higher than the sky itself seemed to allow.
"We're finally at the top of this damned staircase," Shingen said with open relief, lifting his arms slightly as he gazed upward.
"Yes, we are," Leon replied with a smirk.
"Indeed," Arroz added.
Amon and the others allowed themselves faint smiles.
Though they had reached the final step of the staircase, there was no platform beyond it. No ground awaited them.
Only a vast sea stretched endlessly ahead.
A sea of deep blue, brushed with pale white streaks of moonlight. Its surface glowed faintly beneath the night sky, thin mists drifting across it in quiet currents. No fish broke the surface. No insects skimmed across it. No creatures stirred. There was nothing but the sea.
"So, this is what they call an Astral Sea," Leon said, a faint smile forming as he gazed upon the boundless expanse.
"What's an Astral Sea?" Amon asked.
"You don't know?" Leon replied, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Amon shook his head. "No."
"Fine. I'll explain."
"An Astral Sea is a boundless expanse of purity. It is connected to the stars, the heavens, and the suns above us. It is also called a Luminous Sea. Anything described as Astral or Luminous signifies a link to the heavens, to starlight, to radiance and purity."
"It can also be referred to as Astral Land or Luminous Land, meaning Heavenly Land or Pure Land. There are no impurities here. No ordinary life. It is entirely sacred."
"There are not many Astral Seas in the southern world. They are rare, and usually controlled by powerful Orders, noble Families, or Royalty."
He continued, his tone growing more deliberate.
"An Astral Sea can serve as a medium between realms. It can function as the birthplace of divinities. It can resurrect the dead, heal the gravely ill, elevate one's level dramatically, turn a nobody into a god, refine divine medicines, and…"
He paused briefly.
"…it can be used for rituals." Amon completed the sentence.
"Yes," Leon agreed. "Because Astral Seas are pure, even ritualist organisations use them as ingredients, for sacrificial cleansing, passage rites, and even as sustenance for beings of a higher hierarchy," he continued.
"And because of its purity, because it is devoid of life, impurity, abstraction, and all things other than itself, it rejects whatever does not belong to its nature. If we stepped onto it now, it would simply devour us, and we would die."
The others listened closely, each drawing their own conclusions about where they stood and what this place implied.
"Interesting," Amon murmured.
"Should we take some of it and carry it as evidence for the Order?" he asked.
Leon considered for a moment.
"Yes. There is no reason not to."
It would be convenient if I had a cup, but I do not. Should I use the power of the narratives again?
He smirked faintly. Why not?
Amon folded his fingers, extending only his index finger, and wrote upon the air.
I have a diamond wine cup inlaid with runes, sigils, and drifting mist.
At once, a radiant diamond wine cup manifested in midair with mists along its brim, surrounding the sides of the cup, its surface etched with intricate runes and sigils. It descended gently, and Amon caught it by the stem.
The others observed him in silence.
He lowered himself and dipped the cup into the Astral Sea and filled it to the brim. He then stood up and summoned his inventory. A black, purple, and white mist-laced cube materialised before him. He placed the cup within the cube, and it vanished.
"Good," Leon said, patting him on the back.
"Alright. Now that we know what this sea is," Arroz began, gesturing toward the vast expanse before them. He then pointed at Amon. "And you've taken evidence from it,"
He lowered his hand slightly. "How do we get past the Astral Sea?"
Amon paused before answering. "We simply need to walk on it. If Jesus can do it, why can't we?"
"Bahahaha!" Arroz burst into loud, mocking laughter. After a few moments, when he had calmed slightly, he said, still grinning, "You mean to tell us we're supposed to walk on the sea like the man of fairytales did?" He laughed again, unable to contain himself.
Amon and Leon, however, did not share his amusement. Amon extended his hand, curling his fingers into the shape of a gun, and pointed it at Arroz, who stood several feet away.
"Mock my Lord again, and you won't see the light of day nor the darkness of night ever again," he said, his frown deepening, his tone sharp with malice and killing intent.
Arroz froze, his laughter dying instantly, and he remained silent.
Leon leaned slightly toward Amon and whispered, "I admire your faith, but how are we supposed to walk on the Astral Sea? You know it's not just any sea."
"Don't worry about that," Amon replied.
He unfolded his fingers, then extended his index finger, tracing words in the thin air:
Me, Leon, Seraph, Shingen, Fe Yuan, and Arroz have the power to walk on the Astral Sea without being devoured by its power.
As soon as the words left his lips, Amon stepped onto the sea, walking effortlessly across its surface. He turned and gestured for the others.
"What!? How are you-"
"Follow me."
Hesitantly, Leon stepped forward and began walking on the Astral Sea, silent and careful, following Amon.
How on earth is this guy able to walk on it unharmed? Does he have some type of power that nullifies the effects of the astral sea? Leon thought.
Seeing Leon succeed, the rest stepped onto the glowing waters behind him. Tidal ripples spread across the Astral Sea, the transparent surface reflecting the pale moonlight.
Before long, they reached the far edge of the sea and stepped onto solid golden flooring.