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At first, Eugene had not paid much attention to such matters. But after hearing about Vermouth from Raizakia, it was hard not to feel uneasy.

\'The Moonlight Sword,\' Eugene’s thoughts drifted back to this weapon.

It was a blade whose true nature remained a mystery even three hundred years ago. But now he knew its identity. The destruction wrought by the Moonlight Sword\'s glow was, in actuality, the Power of Destruction. Thus, the Moonlight Sword was, like the Demon Spear and Annihilation Hammer, a tool of the Demon King.

To wield such weapons, one needed the blood of Vermouth, the blood of the Lionhearts. While not everything was clear, this much was certain. Vermouth\'s existence was intertwined with the Demon King\'s. Ironically, however, Eugene could still wield the Holy Sword. Yet, the God of Light did not particularly strike him as a benevolent deity.

"Ah, ah ah…," Gondor was speechless from the excitement.

His eyes trembled with astonishment as he beheld the array of weapons Eugene always kept in his cloak.

"What in the world is this?" Gondor asked.

Among the many weapons, the Moonlight Sword — a blade broken mid-length — truly captured Gondor\'s gaze. Gondor tilted his head while eyeing the Moonlight Sword intently.

"It couldn\'t have been like that from the beginning,” commented Gondor.

"It broke,” Eugene responded simply.

"Do you want me to fix it?" asked Gondor.

"No, it can\'t be repaired," Eugene said with a shrug.

Such words were a slight to a dwarf\'s pride, especially one of a blacksmith lineage. With a snort, Gondor pointed to the Moonlight Sword, "It does look of unique make. But there isn\'t a weapon in this world that a dwarf can\'t mend."

"I told you it can\'t be fixed,” repeated Eugene.

"I don\'t understand why you\'re so certain. Let\'s take a closer look." Gondor remained stubborn and reached for the Moonlight Sword.

For a moment, Eugene wondered if he should just allow the dwarf to touch it, but at the last second, Eugene changed his mind.

"Touch it, and you die,” Eugene said, grabbing Gondor\'s shoulder as a warning. Taken aback by such an extreme statement, Gondor looked at Eugene in surprise when he further explained, "Don\'t misunderstand. It\'s not that I\'ll kill you. The sword will."

"What do you mean...?" asked Gondor, shakily.

"It\'s a cursed blade that no one but me can wield." Eugene’s reply left no room for questions.

While there might have been a touch of exaggeration, it wasn\'t entirely untrue.

Holding the Moonlight Sword in one\'s hand tainted the mind. Even Hamel and Molon were driven mad three centuries ago, their minds wavering merely from briefly grasping the Moonlight Sword. Then what would happen if a dwarf, obviously of lesser mental fortitude, were to hold it? Their psyche might shatter entirely, rendering them senseless. Was such a state any different from death?

A deep sigh escaped Eugene’s lips as he warned again, “Likewise, don’t even think about touching the other weapons of the Demon King.”

"But Lady Carmen asked for a thorough examination of the Demon Kings’ weapons,” came Gondor’s retort.

“Just tell her what she wants to hear. There was no issue, was there?” responded Eugene.

Despite often being incomprehensible in all her actions, Carmen was truly a noble soul. She had insisted on bringing Gondor out of concern that Eugene might be adversely affected by the artifacts of the Demon Kings.

Eugene knew all too well just how horrifying and relentless the Demon Kings were. They were entities that, no matter how thoroughly killed, refused to truly perish. Eward’s descent into madness had been partly due to the remnants of the Demon Kings that lingered in the Annihilation Hammer.

Gondor stayed quiet as he contemplated Eugene’s words.

A somber expression crossed Eugene’s face as he recalled that time. The remnants of the Demon King controlling Eward had been obsessively fixated on the blood of the Lionheart lineage. From this, one could infer that the influence of this blood was undeniable.

Eugene was perpetually on guard against this. He remained on guard and conscious of himself. Moreover, he sought frequent validation from Kristina and Anise as well. Even after using the Annihilation Hammer, the Demon Spear, and the Moonlight Sword multiple times, nothing seemed amiss. Eugene remained unscathed.

After a slight pause, Gondor said, "Hmm, can\'t be helped then. I might be curious, but I don\'t wish for madness." With a slightly disappointed look, Gondor turned to Eugene, “That ring, it looks ancient and unique. Is it another cursed item that none but you can handle?"

"No. I just didn\'t see a need to flaunt it, so I kept it on,” answered Eugene.

“Hmm, it doesn’t look all that appealing after losing its luster. Give it here. I\'ll make it shine for you,” Gondor suggested.

There was no particular reason to refuse. Eugene removed the Agaroth’s Ring from his left ring finger and set it beside the weapons. Gondor, however, initially ignored the ring, instead picking up Wynnyd first.

"Storm Sword Wynnyd…. Ah, it\'s truly a masterpiece…!” commented Gondor.

[Hamel, this dwarf does have an eye for beauty,] Tempest remarked with satisfaction.

Eugene observed Gondor with a skeptical look. The dwarf donned a thick pair of glasses, adjusting various lenses to meticulously inspect Wynnyd.

"Is there any need for repair?" asked Eugene.

"A bit of polishing wouldn’t hurt... My greed calls me to tinker here and there, but that could be disastrous. Such relics can backfire if carelessly tampered with,” said Gondor as he observed Wynnyd from different angles.

“Backfire?” Eugene asked, taken aback.

"To put it bluntly, one might lose the abilities originally imbued in it. You’re a wizard too, aren’t you, Mister Eugene? Objects passed down from the Lionheart clan... no, the Great Vermouth, are exceptionally special," Gondor explained.

Weapons bestowed with magic were commonly known as artifacts. Yet, the term artifact originally referred to items not from this age but from ancient civilizations. Among those, the term artifact specially referred to relics endowed with magical capabilities.

“These objects are all genuine artifacts. They cannot be reproduced with the magic and technology of this age. Thus, they must be handled with the utmost care,” Gondor advised.

“Hmm…” Upon hearing Gondor’s words, Eugene gave the matter some thought before speaking to Tempest.

‘Come to think of it, since when has Wynnyd existed?’

[I do not know,] Tempest’s answer was surprising.

‘You don’t? You really don’t know?’ Eugene was genuinely baffled.

Tempest explained, [My connection with Wynnyd began when Vermouth first held it. I have no memories before that.]

‘How does that make sense? Wynnyd must have existed before Vermouth held it, right?’ Eugene’s questions weren’t baseless.

[Of course, it must have. But as to when exactly Wynnyd came into being, I cannot say.] Tempest’s answer was far from satisfactory.

Eugene found these words puzzling. Seeing his confusion, Tempest elaborated in a calm tone, [Hamel, spirits are near-immortal beings, yet they are not truly eternal. Death comes to all existences, sooner or later.]

‘What happens when a spirit dies? Do they vanish?’ Eugene queried.

[We do not vanish. We simply cycle. If they possess self-awareness, even the grandest Spirit King will eventually see themselves wear away. And that erosion inevitably leads to madness.] Tempest paused for a moment. [The essence of a spirit is purity. A wind spirit is a pure wind, and a flame spirit is a pure flame. To such beings, madness is an impurity. The death of a spirit occurs when impurities infiltrate. They shatter their own identity to purify themselves.]

‘It’s like suicide,’ Eugene couldn’t help voicing this thought.

But Tempest wasn’t angered. [You’re not wrong. All spirits exist in this manner. I am the current Wind Spirit King. However, I am not the first, and I do not know how many have been before me. What is clear is that the previous Spirit King was caught in the cycle, and then I became the new Spirit King. From my perspective, my connection with Wynnyd began three hundred years ago.]

Eugene recalled his past life. Vermouth had already possessed Wynnyd when he first met Hamel.

Tempest continued, [Wynnyd lay dormant in the snowy lands ruled by the Bayar Tribe. Why it was there, I do not know.]

‘You wouldn’t know how that bastard Vermouth found it either, would you?’ Eugene asked.

[Of course not,] Tempest affirmed confidently.

It wasn’t just Wynnyd that left Eugene curious. Rather, all of the weapons that had belonged to Vermouth, the ancient artifacts, were the same.

—What sort of ruins are these?

—Ancient ruins.

—Do you think I asked you because I didn’t know that? How did you discover this place?

—The Holy Sword revealed it. The God of Light decreed that the weapon slumbering here would aid in saving the world.

—Ah! The God of Light has not forsaken us. Truly, Sir Vermouth is blessed!

It was a conversation that seemed trivial in his past life. But thinking about it now, it felt eerily peculiar.

Eugene was also wielding the Holy Sword proficiently, but he had never heard the voice of the God of Light from it. In the end, the revelations he had received were influenced by Anise, who had become an angel, and the message that Kristina had heard was also passed on by Anise.

—I merely became a messenger, but the revelation is not false. The God of Light might not be omnipotent as you or others might think, but He does indeed exist. He just cannot directly interfere in this world. Anise said these words to Kristina while explaining her and the God of Light’s existence.

Eugene was aware of the story Anise had shared with Kristina. Nonetheless, the God of Light did indeed exist and had intentions for the world.

Perhaps three hundred years ago, the God of Light had given Vermouth a revelation, informing him of the whereabouts of weapons that would help in the fight against the Demon Kings.

"Hmm…."

While Eugene was deep in thought, Gondor had inspected several weapons and then picked up the ring. To the naked eye, it seemed like a valueless, worn antique. Yet, Gondor examined it closely before exclaiming in admiration.

"This is an ancient artifact. I can\'t be sure, but it seems to be from an era similar to the other relics of the Great Vermouth,” commented Gondor.

"It\'s said to possess the miracle of a god from ancient times,” said Eugene.

"Hmm, so it\'s a divine artifact, just like the Holy Sword?" asked Gondor.

"It doesn’t glow like the Holy Sword, though,” responded Eugene.

The power within the Ring of Agaroth was cruel and straightforward compared to the Holy Sword. This ring drained the life of its owner, stealing their future. It could resurrect a body meant for death multiple times over to fight.

"Do you know which god\'s divine artifact it is?" asked Gondor.

"Agaroth," Eugene answered, not expecting much.

"The God of War!" Gondor chuckled as he examined the inside of the ring.

"How did you know?" Eugene asked, surprised.

"Mister Eugene, like Lady Sienna, do you also think dwarves are an ignorant race, only good for hammering?" accused Gondor.

"Well... not exactly." Eugene couldn\'t deny that he had somewhat thought so.

Gondor squinted at Eugene\'s awkward expression. "To think even a human would have such an opinion of us...! Listen, Mister Eugene. Dwarves are a refined and intellectual race. We possess vast knowledge, especially in ancient languages and history,” said Gondor.

"Is that so?" Eugene said dryly.

"Indeed! Dwarves are artisans who hammer metal, miners who swing pickaxes, and excavators," Gondor said assertively while shaking the ring. "In particular, in the southern islands, where Hammer Island is located, there are several legends about Agaroth."

Eugene had benefited from that worn-out ring several times, especially during his battle with Raizakia. Without the Ring of Agaroth, he would have perished long ago.

Before that, he had received help at… the Fount of Light and also when battling against Gavid Lindman. Each time, it was when he invoked the Light of the Holy Sword. The Ring of Agaroth had run rampant and amplified Eugene’s holy power.

He had received assistance several times, yet any knowledge about Agaroth, the supposed master of the ring, remained elusive. It was Ariartel who had given the ring to Eugene. She had spoken of ancient times, eras so distant that even dragons, who lived for eons, could not recall. She had spoken of a time of legends when the God of Light and others truly existed.

Would a god from that age still be alive now?

It was uncertain if death could even touch a deity, but there was no nation on the current continent that worshiped the War God Agaroth. From Gondor\'s tales, it appeared that even the islands of the southern seas did not retain their faith in Agaroth.

"If only the farthest islands of the Southern Seas remember him, I wonder how he got such a grandiose title as the \'God of War\'?" Eugene scoffed while glancing at Agaroth\'s Ring.

Hearing this, Gondor looked at Eugene with a mix of disdain and pity, shaking his head, "This place might be a sea now, but in ancient times, it wasn\'t."

"What nonsense is that?" Eugene exclaimed.

"It means that with the passage of eons, what was not a sea became one," said Gondor.

"You\'re saying that this vast sea was once land, what, hundreds... no, thousands of years ago? Where did all this water come from then?" questioned Eugene.

"Perhaps a great flood—" Gondor’s suggestion was rudely interrupted.

"Oh, come on...." Eugene decided Gondor\'s words weren\'t worth hearing.

Insulted, Gondor shuddered and spat, "There are tales of a deluge from the Distant Seas!"

"What\'s that about?" Eugene asked, annoyed.

"The End of the Southern Sea! You know that the world is round, right?" Gondor asked.

"Of course, I know that," Eugene said, irritated.

"But, you see, no one has confirmed whether the ends of the north and the south truly connect,” continued Gondor.

In the Northern Kingdom of Ruhr — at its northernmost point lay Raguyaran, a barren land where one should not venture. It was known as the End of the World.

—Climb Lehainjar.

—Look upon Raguyaran.

—Guard against what comes from that End.

In the dead of night, the Nur rose from Raguyaran. The Nur walked the vast expanse, crossing Lehainjar. The sleepless children were devoured by the Nur.

Molon stood guard, ensuring that the End did not encroach.

"The end of the Southern Sea, the Distant Seas... no one knows what lies there. Throughout history, countless explorers have ventured beyond the Southern Seas to step onto the frozen northern lands, but none have ever succeeded,” said Gondor.

Three centuries past, a question had once been posed to Molon: had he ever beheld Raguyaran?

—It was a vast land. A terrain where the skies were ablaze in wrath. There was no sun, no moon, and no stars. The sky was a murky shade akin to soil-trodden snow, and it stretched endlessly. Standing atop the highest peak of Lehainjar, I could glimpse the Distant Sea from the edge of Raguyaran — a frozen expanse of ocean. There was no Nur. No one lived there, and no one could survive.

Eugene, alongside Anise, Kristina, and Molon, had gazed upon Raguyaran. Truly, it had been a land devoid of life: grey earth, grey skies, and grey air. All was of that hue, void and barren. In this eerie and foreboding space, the only presence was the corpses of the many Nur, discarded by Molon.

After slaying Iris, Eugene would go see Molon with Sienna. Eugene recalled Molon’s smiling face as he saw them off.

"A tale from antiquity," Gondor interjected with a cough. "An era of myth, where gods were believed real. Such bygone days have passed, have they not? What became of the prosperous civilizations? Buried deep within the earth or submerged beneath the sea. Merely traces of them remain."

Eugene stayed deep in thought, listening to Gondor’s words.

"Evidence suggests that long ago, the Southern Sea was once land. While the fate of other civilizations remains unknown, one that existed in this sea met its end by being submerged,” said Gondor.

"Are you saying that waters from the far Distant Seas flooded in to create the Southern Seas?" asked Eugene.

Eugene shook his head while considering the many apocalyptic theories related to the ancient era. But he couldn’t help finding Gondor’s words somewhat plausible when he connected them to the edge of the world.

"Enough of these uncertain tales. Do you have more knowledge about Agaroth?" asked Eugene.

"There\'s a legend of Agaroth\'s sacred ground somewhere in the Southern Sea,” responded Gondor.

"Below the sea?" Eugene inquired.

"It could be hidden on an undiscovered island…." Gondor suggested vaguely.

"So, nothing certain then?" Eugene sounded disappointed.

"That\'s how legends tend to be!" Gondor grumbled while waving Agaroth\'s Ring.

Eugene scoffed before taking a seat.

"Then, polish that ring so it shines. Whether Agaroth is dead or alive, if you take care of his treasure, he might be pleased enough to reveal the sacred ground,” said Eugene.

"What do you even think gods are?” Gondor questioned curiously.

"Beings whose existence is uncertain. While the world goes to hell, they only watch from their lofty perches like spectators," Eugene retorted.

"Unbecoming words from the Hero…." A bit startled, Gondor set down his bag. Swift movements of his stout arms transformed the empty space into a respectable workshop. "Well, let\'s start with the polishing."

"Will it take long?" Eugene asked.

"Only as much as sharpening a blade. Shouldn\'t be too time-consuming," Gondor commented.

"Hurry then. There\'s another favor I wish to ask," said Eugene.

"Favor?" Gondor looked up, puzzled.

Rather than explain, Eugene decided to show the dwarf. He pulled an item from beneath his cloak and tossed it before Gondor.

Gondor\'s eyes widened in astonishment when he saw the dragon scales.