Step to paradise

Flauros stepped forward, as if an invisible force was guiding him.

The ancient door made a dull sound, and stone dust fell, but there was no sign of decay. When he placed his hand on it and pushed gently, the giant stone door slowly opened, revealing a completely different space inside.

An ancient shrine, no, a sacred space.

A faint blue light emanated from the crystals floating in the air, like mystical lamps. The space was silent, with only the sound of water flowing from somewhere.

Beneath his feet, ancient patterns were deeply carved into the stone floor, emitting a faint light as he walked.

In the center of the shrine, on an ivory-white stone pedestal, was a floating object: a blue necklace.

It was unlike any item he had ever seen, as if it were made of water, the clear liquid flowed gently without falling, freely rotating in the shape of an elegant necklace.

Flauros could feel the pure Mana surrounding it, majestic, primitive, and deep like the ocean.

Flauros took each step forward, his eyes never leaving the blue necklace floating in front of him.

Water.

Not like a solid object, but like a condensed flow of water veins carrying pure Mana energy. The pale blue light reflected on his face, as if a miniature ocean was beckoning.

But he was in no hurry.

Flauros stopped in front of the stone pedestal, feeling the flow of Mana around it. This necklace was not simply a magical item, it carried within it an ancient will, a power that had yet to fully awaken.

Boom...

A slight vibration spread, causing the surrounding space to vibrate. The ancient characters on the stone pedestal lit up, flashing repeatedly as if confirming the presence of the person who had come centuries later.

Flauros stretched out his hand.

The moment his fingers touched the necklace, a powerful shockwave erupted!

BOOM!

The entire shrine shook. Water jets like sharp blades shot up from the veins on the floor, covering the space like a water maze.

The tattoos on Flauros' body immediately lit up, reacting fiercely to the awakening necklace.

Flauros clenched his fist, feeling a huge flow of Mana trying to devour his consciousness, a challenge from the owner of this treasure.

Flauros chuckled softly, a laugh that was a mixture of mockery and acceptance.

Fire and water were originally not meant to be one.

But even though he knew that, he still tried.

How foolish.

The surrounding Mana water still felt strongly fluctuating, as if it was resisting the intrusion of someone with an opposing attribute. Flauros clenched his fist, but then relaxed, not resisting anymore.

He rolled his eyes, leaving the stone platform, choosing to investigate other things before turning back.

Around the shrine, ancient reliefs were carved with unfamiliar characters. Some of them depicted the figure of a god, standing in the middle of a vast ocean, holding two pieces of a treasure, a necklace, and another object.

'Hmm?'

Flauros paused before another relief.

The image of a faceless man, standing amid black flames and swirling water, his two hands stretched out, holding a broken chain.

A chain…?

He touched the relief, his eyes flashing with contemplation.

Flauros silently turned his head, his eyes stopping at another part of the relief on the other side of the shrine.

His pupils shrank.

A strange shiver ran down his spine.

On it, an image was carved: a person wearing a long cloak, on his chest was a bright red mark identical to the tattoo on his body.

But what made Flauros fall silent was not that.

Because…

Under that person's feet, the entire ocean was burning.

Flauros silently approached, his fingers lightly touching each line of the relief, and the cold feeling from the ancient stone seeped into his skin.

A cat-man, a person wearing a cloak with a red mark, that person stood in the middle of the sea of ​​fire.

He turned around, his eyes stopping at the relief on the other side.

A woman with the characteristics of the dragon race had collapsed.

Beside her, an angel embraced the corpse, an expression of pain etched into every carving.

And behind them was a woman with purple eyes.

She smiled.

It was not a gentle or sorrowful smile, but a calm smile.

As if she had predicted all this would happen.

Flauros frowned.

"...What is all this trying to say?"

'A prophecy or a myth from the past…?'

Flauros turned around, the faint light from the floating mana veins reflecting on the wall, creating a strangely ethereal light.

The remaining two reliefs appeared clearly under his sharp eyes.

And when he saw the details carved on them, Flauros' entire body suddenly stopped.

Dumbfounded.

For a moment, his heart stopped beating.

On the left was a giant creature with tattered wings, two broken horns, and a single eye wide open.

Behind it was a dark whirlwind, figures kneeling at its feet, faces twisted by despair. A crowned figure, with purple eyes carved into it, fell on a throne with a golden sword stabbed into his left chest, eyes as if crying.

On the right was a gate opened in midair, and on the other side… There was nothing.

Not darkness, nor light.

Just an endless void.

And in front of that gate stood a figure, a long cloak draped over it, a hand stretched out as if inviting something from the other side of the gate.

Flauros clenched his fist, his breathing becoming heavy.

"…Impossible."

Flauros was speechless, his eyes unable to leave the reliefs that lined the four walls.

This was not just a distant story.

This was his own life.

He recognized every detail clearly and shuddered at the strange coincidence.

The broken-horned dragon, Cross. The friend who fought alongside him that year, who had disappeared forever after the terrible battle in the north, betraying and burning down the entire guild.

The one kneeling before the throne, the sword stabbed into his chest, Fuzan. There was no mistaking it. The body structure, the sitting posture, even the position of the left heart were characteristics unique to the demon race.

Flauros clenched his fists, his nails digging into his flesh; the feeling was sharp, but he did not care at all.

Each piece was clear but also full of mystery.

Why did it appear here?

Why was there an image of his own life reenacted in an ancient shrine, where a treasure of the Water God was kept?

Who created it?

And…

Who was that person reaching out towards the endless gate?

Flauros took a deep breath, suppressing the chaos in his mind. He couldn't let his emotions take over now. He needed to find out more.

Flauros fell silent, his eyes scanning the reliefs once more, as if he was searching for something, a name, an image, a sign, Aleron?

But there was none.

He gritted his teeth, muttering under his breath

"It's not necessarily true. If it is... where is Aleron?"

If this were a painting that recreated his life, if it touched the things he had experienced...

Then why wasn't he there?

The relief was too perfect, too meticulous, as if the person who created it had witnessed everything with his own eyes. But one last person was missing, the person who had accompanied him the longest and most closely in this world.

Flauros clenched his fists, a vague feeling of unease welling up in his heart.

Not angry, not disappointed, but more like a doubt creeping into his thoughts.

What does this relief... mean?

A warning?

A cruel joke?

Or...a piece of memory that has been altered?

Flauros stiffened.

His eyes were glued to the last image on the relief, a smiling figure in front of a gate.

That gate...

There was no way he could mistake it. It was the gate that year, the gate that had changed his entire life.

Why was it here?

Why was this image carved into an ancient relief, a place he should never have set foot in?

Flauros swallowed, his fingertips unconsciously tightening. His breathing became heavy as old memories, mysteries rushed into his mind.

That person... who was he?

Why was he standing there, smiling?

Why did this relief seem to know everything?

A cold feeling crept into Flauros's spine. He didn't believe in fate. But if everything engraved on this relief was true…

Then, who was the one who had arranged it all?

"Ha-!"

Flauros chuckled, a bitter laugh to the core.

What had he been thinking?

Could he change something?

He was truly free?

From start to finish, he was just a pawn, a player in a game whose rules he didn't even know.

But... that was fine.

He ignored it all.

He no longer cared what these reliefs meant. He no longer wanted to find answers to the mysteries that had surrounded him for so many years.

Because in the end, there was only one path.

Only Heaven.

That was where he had always headed, the only place that could bring liberation to everyone.

Just... keep going.

Just going home was enough.

Regardless.

Regardless.

No matter what, even if this world was destroyed when that gate opened again... he would do it.

Not out of hatred.

Not out of a thirst for power.

It was just... he wanted to go home.

Earth.

A place with soft beds, phone coverage, and busy streets.

A place where everything was familiar, where life was not distorted by magic, political intrigue, or cruel fate.

He just wanted to go home, that was all.

Flauros's hand lightly ran over the gate's pattern on the wall, feeling each carving.

That person... the one in that relief...

Maybe he was another transmigrator.

Flauros raised his head.

The quiet atmosphere seemed to freeze in an instant.

The ceiling... also had carvings.

As expected, the overwhelming feeling still made him pause for a moment.

The painting on the ceiling was completely different from the delicate reliefs below. It was huge, and it was incredibly delicate.

The intricate details, stacked on top of each other like a pictorial epic, tell a story that no one can easily comprehend.

A destiny engraved in every carving.

The traces of a lost person in time and space.

The traces of a person who once passed through the gate…

Just like him.

Flauros squinted, concentrating his eyes.

Not just one story, but countless.

The carvings overlapped, connecting and then branching off, intertwining chaotically like the threads of fate entwined together.

There were faint images, as if eroded by time or intentionally hidden.

Some carvings did not match, as if added later to unfinished stories, or rewritten destinies?

In one corner, there was the silhouette of a person leaving the gate.

In another corner, there was a scene of a kingdom collapsing in a sea of ​​fire, magic circles cracking, people looking up at the dark sky.

And right in the center, a pair of hands reached out, clasped together, but seemed to be pulled in two opposite directions. Those who had set foot through this gate, was there still a way back?

Flauros carefully traced the carvings with his hand, his eyes cold, but his heart was in turmoil.

The story gradually emerged.

The dragon woman, a war god, collapsed, her fiery wings falling to pieces. Beside her, the male angel hugged her body tightly, as if not wanting her to sink into oblivion.

Behind them, the cat-man with the same necklace and tattoo as him knelt, bowing his head to the woman with purple eyes.

The woman, standing high above, her lips slightly curved, the smile of someone who holds everything.

Flauros raised his head, looking deep into those purple eyes.

A manipulator? Or a god?

He moved his gaze, noticing more details.

A city swallowed by darkness.

Dragons rising from the ground.

A portal opened in the sky, a blinding light, and then everything turned to ashes.

He unconsciously raised his hand to his neck, touching the cat-man's fate ring. Could it be that it was also his fate?

Flauros shook his head, forcing himself to escape the train of thought that was slowly dragging him down.

'It's best to do the mission first.'

But...

His eyes still couldn't help but turn back to look at those carvings again. Those paintings were too obvious, too many clues to ignore.

He reached out to touch the incantation in his pocket, muttering an incantation. A faint light spread out, covering the entire room.

Under the influence of the incantation, every line and symbol carved on the painting was deeply engraved in his memory as if engraved directly into his brain.

'There will come a time when it will be needed.'