Lucian strolled back into the city like last night hadn't even happened, a carefree grin tugging at his lips.
"Now then… let's see where that kid ended up."
He snapped his fingers. His eyes flashed violet.
His vision blurred—then refocused through Ignir's eyes, revealing the familiar, shabby interior of the slum's inn.
"Too easy." Lucian smirked as the glow faded from his eyes.
[You're wasting your time.]
[You should be focused on regaining your power.]
"I've got plenty of time," Lucian said with a laugh, waving the thought away.
"The Dark Lord and Hero just got here—they're still fresh meat. Barely cooked."
He leaned into the swagger. "If I power up too fast, I'll just draw the wrong kind of attention."
[Fine. But explore the necklace further. You haven't even scratched the surface.]
"I'm a fast learner. I'll manage."
He dismissed the Codex's voice as he stepped through the slums' gates.
The area felt... different. Quieter. Cleaner. Less like a cesspool and more like a place someone might survive in.
"Did Varen pull this off?" Lucian muttered as he approached the inn—only to pause at the new sign crudely painted above the entrance: a rough caricature of his own face.
"Huh… well, that's one way to brand an inn."
Inside, Lucian was met with a truly ridiculous sight.
Varen stood on a table, draped in a simple white robe, arms raised like a manic prophet.
"Let the blood of our mighty dear leader bless you with his never-ending grace!" he declared, his Codex glowing while blood twirled dramatically in the air around him.
Lucian clapped slowly, his voice dry with amusement. "Bravo. You're definitely blessing something."
Varen blinked, then lit up. "Ah! You've returned, milord!"
He gestured grandly toward Lucian, letting the gathered crowd of wide-eyed followers take in the sight of their "divine" leader.
Some stared in awe. Others looked unsure if they were witnessing a god or a well-dressed madman.
Lucian ignored the crowd. "Varen. Where's Ignir?"
"In the back," Varen said with a deep bow, still playing his role. "He's training with my handpicked security."
Lucian caught on immediately and decided to play along.
A dark scepter formed in his hand, conjured from shadow. His eyes gleamed with a violet mist that spilled into the room.
"At ease, my child. Continue enlightening my new sons and daughters."
Varen dropped to a knee, then launched back into his sermon with renewed flair.
Lucian made his way to the back room—and grinned at the scene before him.
Ignir stood mid-spar, wielding a sword made of blood. He lunged at a familiar figure—the jagged-sword man from before.
"Too slow, kid."
The man casually parried, sending the blood sword flying.
But Ignir didn't miss a beat. With a flick of his wrist, the blade snapped back into his grip and he attacked again.
The man's eyes shifted—then caught sight of Lucian.
"Oh? Back already, boss?"
That second of distraction was all Ignir needed. His blood sword hovered just beneath the man's chin.
"Got you!" Ignir beamed.
The man laughed. "Doesn't count, kid. I was talking to God."
Ignir turned, eyes lighting up. "You're back!"
Lucian laughed, ruffling his hair. "Hope you didn't cry when you woke up and couldn't find me."
Ignir grinned. "I figured you wouldn't ditch me. So I came back to the inn."
Lucian's gaze slid over to the jagged-sword-wielding man. "No blood sword for you?"
The man chuckled. "Nah, boss. This one's special—got it from my first kill. Sentimental and all that."
Lucian snorted. "Sentimental or not, you might want to get it fixed. Looks like it's held together by spite."
"Easier said than done." The man sheathed the blade with a shrug.
Lucian flipped him a pouch of ten gold coins.
The man blinked, catching it. "Guess you hit the jackpot, huh?"
"I only need fifty silvers for repairs," he said, tossing back nine of the coins.
Lucian caught them mid-air with a flick of his fingers, then guided them right back into the man's pocket with a smirk. "Think of it as a bonus."
Lucian scanned the room. "Varen said something about security. Are you it?"
The man shook his head. "Nah. The rest are out doing patrols—trying to bring in more believers."
As they talked, runes flared in front of Lucian's eyes.
[How long are you going to waste time with this pointless conversation?]
Lucian rolled his eyes. "It's called bonding, Codex. You should try it sometime."
He turned back to Ignir. "Stay here a while, kid. Keep training with our new… 'security team.'"
Ignir nodded, catching the tone. "When are you coming back?"
Lucian was already walking toward the door. "Time will tell. Won't be long."
As he stepped outside, he pressed a finger to his lips, deep in thought.
[Enough distractions. We need to grow stronger.]
Lucian scoffed. "What do you think I'm doing, Codex?"
[Sigh… listen to me, you idiot.]
A new screen bloomed before him, glowing with runes.
[Trial Dungeon: Reclaiming Glory (1)]
[This is what I've been trying to show you.]
Lucian's eyes lit up. "You could've just said that earlier."
[I have been saying it. Repeatedly. But you never listen.]
Lucian chuckled, satisfied. The Codex actually sounded frustrated. He considered that a win.
With a flick of his finger, he accepted the challenge.
A shimmering portal materialized in front of him, runes above it glowing: Trial Dungeon.
"This should be fun… I hope." He paused. "Or it'll try to kill me immediately. Either way, I'll get my cardio in."
Lucian stepped through, and the portal snapped shut behind him.
He found himself in a damp stone corridor, the air thick with humidity and flickering torchlight dancing on the walls. The stone beneath his boots was cracked, ancient—etched with runes too faded to read. The silence was unnerving.
[Objective: Kill the Dungeon Boss.]
Lucian rolled his neck. "Great. I'm becoming one of those cliché heroes grinding dungeons."
Still, a grin tugged at his lips as he marched deeper into the dungeon.
After all, he had a necklace to understand, power to reclaim, and a world to outplay—his way.
And this time? He wasn't planning to lose.