The ghosts led Theo to a place deep within the mausoleum, far beyond the 299 coffins. Hidden by the arrangement of the sarcophagi, it was nearly impossible to find without being guided.

At the end of a narrow passage lay a small chamber.

A faint ray of light streamed in through a crack in the ceiling, illuminating a solitary red tulip swaying atop a simple stone mound.

“A grave… there’s another one here?”

- Oh, you caught on quick.
- That’s right. There were originally 300 of us.
- But we never managed to mark this one with a proper headstone.

The ghosts hovered around the mound, their movements slower and more deliberate than before.

Theo quickly realized this unmarked grave held the key to why these ghosts still lingered in the world of the living.

“Who lies here?”

- None of us.
- No one’s actually buried here. It’s an empty grave.

“An empty grave?”

- Correct. It’s a cenotaph.
- It belongs to our leader. The head of our house, our lord, and… the chosen one of Ragnar in times past.

The chosen one.

Theo’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of that title.

- ■■■! It was their tomb…!

As one of the ghosts tried to say the name, their face twisted unnaturally, as though caught in a seizure.

- Dammit! It’s happening again! The name won’t come out! This is maddening. At this rate, we’ll forget it completely!
- Even their face is getting blurry in my memory these days.
- That’s because you’re senile.
- What did you say?!

The ghosts bickered, as usual, but Theo didn’t mind. His attention was focused on the grave.

“It seems I lack the capacity to hear their true name. This must mean they delved into secrets of the world far beyond my reach.”

- That’s probably the case. We don’t fully understand it ourselves, but we’ve heard that they were so deeply entangled with the Nameless Lord that even leaving behind their existence here was a near impossibility.

Theo instinctively sought out the connection to Rodbrok through the channeling.

‘Is that true?’

『It is.』

‘How could they have been involved with the Nameless Lord to such an extent…?’

『It’s said that as a chosen one, they were one of the few to approach the very source of the Nameless Lord’s power. Even Ragnar retains almost no records of their deeds. It was all done in utmost secrecy.』

‘What an incredible figure they must have been.’

『I wish I could tell you more, but I cannot. As a chosen one and my partner, you will uncover the truth yourself in time.』

‘Understood.’

Rodbrok’s voice carried an uncharacteristic sadness.

『To think that my former partner’s grave existed here all this time, and I was unaware… I must have been an unworthy partner after all.』

Theo remained silent, sensing that now was not the time to speak further with Rodbrok.

‘A being cursed by the Nameless Lord to lose their name…’

A name was the essence of existence itself. It was the way the world acknowledged an individual, the anchor of their identity in memory and record. Names spread their presence and ensured their significance.

For some, names transcended mere identity to become immortalized, offered to pantheons as symbols of divine legacy.

To have one’s name erased? That was the annihilation of one’s being.

For a swordsman of Ragnar, whose ultimate ambition was to etch their name into history, such an erasure would be the greatest disgrace imaginable.

The 299 warriors of the death squad who had fought beyond the great barrier against the Nameless Lord were still remembered by Ragnar.

Yet their leader, the very one who had commanded them, was forgotten.

Even as their house head and leader, their existence was a void.

The reason why these warriors lingered as spirits on the mortal plane was rooted in this loss.

‘They stay in this world not because of lingering personal regrets, but to preserve their leader’s existence…’

But the dead were not meant to remain in the world of the living forever. What they were doing now was a futile struggle, a refusal to let go.

Theo faced the spirits and asked, “Are you hoping to recover your late leader’s remains and build a proper grave for them?”

- Huh? Is that how it sounds?
- Haha! I guess it could be interpreted that way. Not a bad idea, really.
- But do swordsmen really care about having a grave? We die on the battlefield. That’s our fate. As long as our spirit and will endure and someone remembers us, wherever that is—it’s our grave.
- Exactly! Well said!

The spirits expressed that their leader’s memory was preserved through them, making an actual grave unnecessary.

“Then… what is it that you desire?”

- We wish to restore our leader’s swordsmanship.

Theo’s eyes widened in surprise.

The 299 spirits smiled, unified in their response.

- Didn’t we say that a grave is wherever someone remembers us?
- We already have a grave. Even though visitors are rare, we have a caretaker to tend to it.
- But when we’re gone?
- There’ll be no one left. No one. That’s why we need a ‘grave’—a true one. Someone to carry on our leader’s legacy.

“You mean to say that restoring the swordsmanship is equivalent to building that grave?”

- Exactly.
- If the leader’s teachings are preserved in this world, it means someone is honoring their memory. And their grave will remain.
- Of course, our leader had descendants, but…
- Most of their techniques were lost. Those who inherited the fragments were merely half-baked successors, not true inheritors.

Theo felt a spark of realization.

“Are the teachings you’ve shared with me part of that legacy?”

The detective spirit nodded.

- That’s correct. Our leader’s techniques were developed by refining Ragnar’s swordsmanship. We figured if you honed your own blade, you might stumble upon their teachings naturally.
- We don’t know the full legacy ourselves. We’ve ‘forgotten’ it.
- But the insights we gained, the glimpses we caught of their mastery, those fragments remain with us.

“If I piece together those fragments and fill in the gaps with my own sword…” Theo mused.

- That would recreate our leader’s teachings.
- Of course, it won’t be identical to the original. But wouldn’t that be better? Creating something unique, rather than simply imitating? A continuation of the legacy, shaped by you.

Theo nodded, impressed by the spirits’ perspective.

Their abilities, even in fragments, were extraordinary. And for Theo, this was an unparalleled opportunity.

An ancient legacy.

If Rodbrok himself acknowledged its value, then it was a treasure beyond measure.

‘Just the fragments they’ve shared so far have elevated me. To restore the full legacy…’

The desire to restore the swordsmanship burned within him.

‘But how long would it take? I can’t remain here indefinitely. There has to be another way to make this happen.’

Without a relic of the chosen one, even his Hatchling Synchronization wouldn’t suffice.

A thought struck him—his encounter with the spirits might be tied to his quest.

One solution came to mind.

“I might know a way to restore the legacy faster. Would you be willing to try it?”

- What?
- A faster way? You’re serious?

The spirits all turned their gazes to Theo, intrigued.

Taking a deep breath, Theo began to explain.

***

“Huh? Where did Theo go all of a sudden?”

“Exactly. He was just over there a moment ago.”

“Ray, do you know anything about this?”

Ray shook her head firmly in response to Shepherd and Arin's questions.  

She had been focusing on her breathing technique for a while and hadn’t paid attention to her surroundings.  

Shepherd, worried something might have happened, was about to go looking for Theo when Cassandra suddenly stirred, drawing his gaze.

Cassandra slowly sat up, blinking her unfocused eyes.

“This place…”

“Are you feeling alright, Cassandra?”

Arin, concerned, watched Cassandra closely, but Cassandra merely stared back at her in silence.  

Despite being blind, it was as if Cassandra was looking directly at her.  

“Cassandra?”

“You are Arin Negatives, famed for your Gale Blade Technique.”

“What the…?”

Arin felt a sharp sense of unease.  

This wasn’t Cassandra’s usual tone of voice.  

It was as if an adult had taken over her small body.

“And you’re Shepherd Gardner. Known as the White-Haired Demon Blade, the illegitimate child of the Gardner family. It seems you’re getting along well ‘here.’”  

“...You.”  

“And over here is Ray Ragnar, daughter of the Frost Blossom Sovereign. You possess the Frost attribute, but your heart is as warm as ever—thanks to Theo, I presume.”  

“Who are you?”

Shepherd unsheathed his sword, aiming it directly at Cassandra’s throat.  

Unfazed by the cold steel, Cassandra pushed the blade aside with her hand.  

“If you’re asking who I am, my answer would be ‘Cassandra.’”  

“What nonsense!”

“But if you’re asking whether I’m the same Cassandra you know…”

A faint smile played on Cassandra’s lips.  

“Then I’m afraid I must answer no.”  

What in the world was she talking about?  

She claimed to be Cassandra, but not the Cassandra they knew?

Shepherd suspected that some foreign entity had possessed Cassandra and was playing tricks on them.  

“No. This is no trick. It’s only natural that you’d find it difficult to understand my words. If I were in your shoes, I’d react the same way.”

‘She’s reading my mind…?’

“Not reading, but rather ‘foreseeing.’ It would be more apt to think of it that way.”  

“...!”

Shepherd’s spine tingled.

The entity inhabiting Cassandra not only predicted their actions but also seemed to see through their very thoughts.  

It was an impossible situation to comprehend.

As Shepherd tried to say something, Cassandra’s gaze shifted to one side.

“If you doubt that I’m Cassandra, Theo can vouch for me.”

Following her line of sight, the group turned their heads.

Theo was walking toward them.

“You can lower your guard now.”

“Theo.”

“I’ll vouch for her. The Cassandra you see here is still Cassandra.”  

Theo looked at Cassandra, who responded with a smile but no words.

“Well… if you say so, it must be true.”

Shepherd reluctantly stepped back.

He already knew Cassandra possessed a unique ability, and he decided to regard her current state as another manifestation of that power.

“Glad this ended without incident. Now, you needed me, correct?”

Cassandra turned her focus to Theo.  

At this point, none of the group felt like she was blind anymore.

‘This is getting troublesome. Can she enter a trance-like state as well?’

Theo narrowed his eyes as he assessed Cassandra’s condition.

He had already known that Cassandra acted strangely when using her **Seer’s Ability**—like a person possessed.

It had been the same when she glimpsed the future of Leze.

However, there was something different this time: her demeanor was far more composed.  

It felt as though Cassandra’s future self had borrowed her younger self’s body to deliver guidance.

“Could you help me?”

“Yes. Where shall I go?”

Cassandra rose gracefully and followed behind Theo.

Once the area grew quiet again…

“Hah…”

“What just happened?”

Shepherd and Arin finally exhaled deeply.

“Hey, did you see that?”

“You’re not the only one with eyes.”

“What was that all about?”

They were initially shocked by Cassandra’s unnervingly mature response upon opening her eyes.

But equally unnerving was the sudden shift in Theo’s presence.  

‘I couldn’t read him… at all.’

From the moment Theo had acquired the mysteries at the Autonomous Floating Archipelago, they had realized he had surpassed their abilities.

But even then, the gap hadn’t been so insurmountable—they could gauge his strength, at least roughly.

Now, however, it felt impossible to measure.  

It was like trying to guess the height of a mountain on the distant horizon.

The only clear thought was that Theo had become “taller,” but exactly how much taller, they couldn’t tell.

Since arriving here, Theo had taken some time for himself, and now… had he gained some sort of enlightenment?  

But could enlightenment alone lead to such rapid growth?

A flurry of questions and thoughts swirled through their minds.

‘Especially his eyes. I couldn’t fathom their depth.’  

His crimson eyes, once vibrant, had deepened into a shade so dark it could only be called **true crimson.**

One thing was certain now:  

Theo had firmly stepped into the realm of masters.  

He might even be at the threshold of becoming a **Swordmaster** or nearing the rank of a **Dragon Slayer.**

And at just sixteen years old.  

“If I want even a shred of respect as a senior, I’ll have to work much harder…”

As Shepherd and Arin sighed in unison, Ray gazed thoughtfully toward the dark path Theo and Cassandra had taken.

Just then—  

“What’s this? Where did everyone go?”

Ode, who had gone to check the situation outside, returned with a puzzled expression.

The group weakly gestured toward the path Theo and Cassandra had taken.

“What? They went that way?”

At that moment, Ode’s eyes darkened deeply, as though stripped of emotion.  

***

“‘The real’ Cassandra will be fine, right?”

“Theo, you seem to know exactly who I am.”

“I was confused earlier, but now I understand.”

A faint smile spread across the lips of the young Cassandra as she walked leisurely.

“You… are the Sorceress Empress, aren’t you?”