As the words implied, the founder’s tumulus was where the founder of House Lightless was buried for eternal rest. The entrance to this underground burial ground was in a mountain a short distance away from the Lightless headquarters, and only a select few within our household even knew of its existence. How in the world did someone trespass? I wondered. For that to be possible, someone must have leaked this highly confidential information. Under the orders of my father, I went to investigate.
“Good grief... My father really can work people like a dog,” I muttered.
This location, however, was considered top secret; only I was permitted to enter. I didn’t like playing the part of my father’s lackey, but I far preferred it to the alternative: sitting down for a meal with my family. I wasn’t used to the mountainous path, so I channeled my mana into my legs to traverse the difficult terrain.
I’d never even heard of anyone trespassing on this ancient burial ground before. I assumed the culprit was some insolent grave robber who didn’t know what they’d stumbled into, or an airheaded fool who happened to wander in. In either case, I felt like my presence was unnecessary. Any grave robber would have already been killed by the shadow familiars prowling about, employed by the founder before his death.
For some inexplicable reason, those familiars had persisted even after his death. Most familiars would disappear once their master perished, but these remained and guarded the founder’s peaceful rest. Anyone who dared to disturb his sleep was heartlessly attacked by these beasts. He deployed them liberally in life, each beast powerful in its own right. While I wasn’t sure where they received their mana, these familiars were immortal and immediately healed from any injury.
No mere grave robber could so much as lay a finger on the founder’s grave. So, in short, I had been dispatched to collect a corpse. This kind of odd job was perfect for the Dark Knights, but the danger of the founder’s tumulus was too much even for them. Even a knight worth a thousand soldiers would be mercilessly shredded for stepping foot inside; only the most elite of Dark Knights, or Alba himself, could ever hope to return alive. Carlos might have stood a chance when he was younger, but such a feat would be all the more difficult for him now that he was past his prime.
The tumulus, as mentioned before, was highly confidential anyway. My mother and even my moronic younger brother didn’t know of its existence, much less the Dark Knights, Alba, or Carlos. The only three who knew of this place were my father, the current lord of the land; my grandfather, the previous lord who was now retired; and myself, the eldest son of the house. Still, I hadn’t expected to be used for such a trivial affair. But I guess that’s okay. I planned on heading here sooner or later anyway. After all, I’d destroyed one of the familiars that resided in the depths of this tumulus, one bestowed upon our family as we prayed to the altar. The familiar that I’d dispatched to tail Clinton had been killed by the Wicked Whale; it was a useless spirit of a low class, and genuinely worthless to him. I wished to give that altar a piece of my mind and scold it for giving me such a puny familiar.
“Huh?” I muttered.
Something felt off. Near the entrance of the tumulus, I felt the remnants of an unnatural force—traces of mana. It was a type that I’d never really sensed before, and didn’t show up on my mana perception field. I gazed intently at that area, when I spotted a distortion that resembled a seam in the air. I imbued my hand with my own magic and tore that seam apart. The space in front of me ripped and shattered in front of my eyes to reveal something that was hidden deeper within.
“What in the...”
A massive, scarlet vessel appeared before my eyes. In my dream, this was called an airship. An invisibility charm, mana jamming, concealment, and repellent... Whoever set up this barrier went through painstaking effort to hide this ship.
An airship was a flying vessel powered by mana. It was considered an ancient technology that was lost to time. In my dream, only one airship ever existed in the world, and it was now right before my eyes.
“This is...the Scarlet Wind’s ship,” I mumbled.
The Scarlet Wind was a famous group of treasure hunters, or so they were in my dream. They went around the world in search of ruins and dungeons to find valuables. Also called sky pirates, they trespassed onto ancient sites and dungeons, did as they pleased, and stole whatever treasures or magical items they could find to sell for profit.
Really, calling them “treasure hunters” was being too generous. In truth, they were basically grave robbers. They didn’t assault the common folk like bandits, but they were a group of lawless ruffians in their own right, taking whatever they saw fit. But why are they here? The Scarlet Wind often entered ruins and dungeons, meaning that they were quite skilled at trespassing and traversing danger. Still, I was confident that even they could not escape from this place alive.
However, if they had all died here, they wouldn’t have appeared in the tale of my dream. In other words, something might’ve saved them. Or have I already changed the future, much like the appearance of the Wicked Whale?
“Hmm...”
I had far too little information about the beginning of the tale. I knew the events that unfolded afterward, but not the historical background that might’ve triggered them. Hence, I couldn’t foresee what would happen here. Besides, I couldn’t just let some strangers trespass into the founder’s tumulus and do as they pleased. If, by some stroke of luck, they managed to reach the depths and pillage the grave, I wouldn’t know how the founder’s shadow familiars would react.
The familiars were loyal to him, not House Lightless. If any one of them decided to sneak out and head to town, the consequences could be devastating. These were immortal monsters that could seemingly regenerate for the rest of time. It was the responsibility of the lords of House Lightless to ensure that outsiders did not provoke these familiars.
More importantly, if the Scarlet Wind was here, it also meant that she was around too—the heroine who would join the main character’s forces in the future.
“Indeed, how troublesome...”
I let out a melancholic sigh about my future as I stepped into the founder’s tumulus.
✶✶✶
The founder’s tumulus was located underground, under a staircase. With every step that she took, the mana in the air grew thicker and thicker as she felt the shadow familiars grow ever stronger. This petite girl was a member of the Scarlet Wind, an infamous group of sky pirates, but she was still only twelve. She was an apprentice of the group, fearfully curled up in the dark staircase.
Her short, light-brown hair was tied up behind her head, and a wing-shaped earring decorated her left ear. Her name was Lilka Skyfield. She was one of the heroines in the tale and would join the main character’s forces one day, but she was currently in a predicament of her own. She’d entered this tumulus with her comrades, the other members of the Scarlet Wind, but they weren’t with her.
Lilka had unwittingly set off a teleporting trap. It was a brutal trap that could occasionally be seen in ancient ruins or difficult dungeons, and this one had torn Lilka away from the rest of the group. She could easily guess that she wasn’t on the same floor that she was moments before. The dark monsters prowling about were clearly on a different level from the ones she’d seen, each emanating an air of malice and ferocity that prevented her from challenging any of them. The best she could do was hide and cower, hoping that the monsters would pass by without noticing her.
The monsters of this grave were absurdly strong. Those on the first floor were powerful enough to appear in difficult dungeons, and even if Lilka managed to land a blow on one of them, their wounds would heal almost immediately. In her mind, this was simply unfair. The Scarlet Wind knew when to admit defeat, and so they had immediately agreed to retreat, but it was difficult to navigate the dark corridors with void monsters on their tail. And as if to deal the final blow, a teleporting trap had also been lying in wait.
“Ah ha ha...” Lilka chuckled. “This might be where I die.”
Despite her cheery tone, her eyes were filled with fear and despair. Teleporting alone across an unknown dungeon was practically a death sentence—she knew that well. It was exceedingly rare for someone to return after they were forced to fly solo in a dungeon, and judging from the monsters prowling about, she was likely on an even lower floor.