The abyssal hole yawned before Noah. The ground was blackened, the earth rotting, and the stench of something repulsive as in a concept clung to the air.
Vorethiel's nest.
Noah exhaled slowly. His mind was racing, but his voice remained steady.
"So… I understand that you need the Core of Eden to seal Vorethiel," he said, eyes locked onto the swirling entropy before him. "But then, why does that include attacking the fortress?"
The naga's chief turned to face him, golden eyes unreadable.
"The Core is within the fortress," he said simply.
Noah narrowed his eyes. Within the fortress…?
"At first we were trying to negotiate with the humans…But"
"Each time we come to retrieve it," the chieftain continued, "we find you there, protecting it."
Noah's fingers twitched at his side. Something wasn't adding up.
"And how are you so sure that the Core of Eden is in the fortress?" he asked.
The chieftain did not hesitate.
"The King of Hell, Paimon, told us."
Noah's breath hitched.
What?
"He told us the Core of Eden is within the fortress and that we must retrieve it from them. We did not question his words. A lot of our tribe has died in multiple attempts to take it back… but since Vorethiel's slumber is coming to an end, we have no time left."
His golden gaze darkened.
"We decided to go all out."
Noah felt the weight of those words settle into his chest.
"And right as we were going to send our first wave…" The chieftain exhaled sharply, turning to look at Noah once more.
"You arrived."
The pieces clicked into place in Noah's mind like a cruel puzzle, each revelation sharpening the image of what was truly happening.
The whole scenario was like a sick, twisted play.
The fortress held the Core of Eden—or whatever it truly was. The nagas needed it to save their floor, but Paimon, as the administrator, had turned it into a game. A conflict fueled by misdirection.
And now that Vorethiel was awakening, Paimon had no more time for games. That was why he had asked us to…
Noah's thoughts came to an abrupt halt as the chieftain spoke again.
"It is my first time speaking with a human," the naga leader mused, his golden eyes narrowing. "But for some reason, I find you… different. You are quite the understanding one."
He paused, tilting his head slightly.
"I think that we may get along… or perhaps we share the same despair."
"Have you ever looked at your own eyes before?"
Noah ignored the latter part of what the chieftain said. He wasn't interested in whatever insight the naga thought he had.
But that one phrase—"get along"—lodged itself deep in his mind.
That was it. That was the trial.
It wasn't for the climbers to work together.
It was for them to get along with the nagas.
Noah followed after the naga leader, his mind churning through the implications of what he had just learned.
The system's quest objective was to survive for seven days. Seven days. That meant in the grand scheme of things, Vorethiel would awaken by then.
They weren't just here to hold out—they needed to find the Core of Eden and hand it over to the nagas before that happened.
Or else…
Noah tightened his jaw. No other option. If we fail, We will die… Me, Adam and the Nagas
As they neared the naga settlement, something felt… off.
The air was tense…
Then, the moment they stepped in, it happened.
A group of armed nagas encircled him in a seamless motion, their weapons drawn but not yet striking. Noah's body tensed, and his mind leaped to the worst possibility— a trap.
Had the leader betrayed him?
But before his thoughts could spiral, his eyes flicked to the chieftain.
His fingers were tightening around his flute, the muscles in his arms straining slightly.
Noah understood in an instant.
This wasn't his doing.
A voice broke through the standoff.
"What is the meaning of this, Elder Veshar?" Chief's tone was sharp, but restrained.
An older naga stepped forward from the gathered crowd, his golden eyes filled with authority. His scales were darker, weathered by time, but his presence was far from weak.
"This is the end of your time as chieftain, Mordis."
His voice carried through the settlement like a proclamation.
"Till when are we going to be weak towards them? These hairless apes—these humans—are inferior to us!"
A roar of approval erupted from some of the warriors.
"Tell me, Mordis. Till when are we going to sacrifice our people because of your softness?" Elder Veshar's gaze was like a knife, pointed directly at his chieftain.
"Mordis, son of Tyrax, your rule has only brought hesitation and loss!"
Noah's heart pounded, but he stayed still, watching. Calculating.
Veshar turned to the gathered nagas, raising his arms like a prophet delivering a message from the divine.
"We are the rulers of this floor! We are not weak! We are not inferior! And we shall not bow to the humans any longer!"
Another wave of cheers and hisses spread through the warriors, their loyalty shifting like a tide.
"The age of the weak chieftain ends today!"
Mordis stood firm, his expression unreadable.
And Noah?
Noah exhaled slowly and gritted his teeth.
Just what I needed. A fucking coup.
Mordis' grip tightened on his flute, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward Veshar. His voice, once calm, now carried a dangerous edge.
"Veshar, are you absolutely certain about this?"
Veshar remained silent, the weight of the question hanging in the air.
Mordis shifted his attention to the crowd, his tone dark and commanding, forcing each naga to take notice.
"Is this what you want, all of you?"
Silence.
His voice grew sharper, louder, more pressing. "Answer me!"
The crowd was still, too afraid to speak, too conflicted to give voice to their thoughts.
Mordis' expression hardened, his words now biting, each one soaked with authority. "I will ask again: is this truly what you want?"
Again, no one responded.
A bitter laugh escaped Mordis as he turned back to Veshar, his gaze colder than before. "If this is what you want, then let it be. Veshar, congratulations. You're the new leader."
He spoke as though the title meant nothing, an empty gesture.
Then, his voice took a lethal turn. "Now, give the order to release my guest, and let us discuss the Core of Eden like 'Superior' beings."
But before he could move, Veshar's tail flicked, and a sudden chill filled the air.
"Stop right there."
The words were ice-cold, like a warning sign before a storm.
Veshar's gaze cut through Mordis with a sharpness that could pierce stone. "Who said this human gets to walk away from here?"
Before Noah could even process the threat, the naga guards moved as one—four weapons aimed directly at him. His mind screamed, but his body was frozen in place, helpless. He cursed himself—Shit, I forgot my spear. How could I have been so careless?
But just as the first strike was about to land, Mordis' voice rang out like thunder, raw with anger.
"Veshar, you old fool. You will regret this!"
With a sudden motion, Mordis raised his flute to his lips. A familiar, haunting melody filled the air, and Noah's vision blurred.
It was the same sound that had sent him spiraling into unconsciousness before—the same music, now sharper, more potent. His body grew heavier, his senses fading as the world tilted and spun.
His last thoughts were consumed by the question: What the hell is happening...?
The world dissolved, and when Noah's eyes fluttered open again, everything felt off, wrong. His vision was cloudy, a veil of darkness over everything.
Standing above him was Mordis, his expression a strange mixture of guilt and sorrow. His voice was distant, almost mournful.
"I'm sorry, Noah. I truly believed we could make it work—understand each other, save ourselves from the inevitable... but this... this had to happen."
Mordis paused, his gaze lingering on Noah's face, his tone softening for a fleeting moment. "Did I ever tell you how strange your eyes are?" He muttered, almost to himself. "You're dying... but your eyes... they're still the same. They never change. It's as though you were always dead inside, even when you're alive..."
Noah's vision flickered as he looked around. Blood was everywhere—pooling around him, soaking into the earth. The air was thick with the scent of death.
Veshar lay lifeless on the ground, and the soldiers who had attacked him were scattered, their bodies lifeless in pools of crimson.
A few of the naga, standing at a distance, watched the carnage unfold, perhaps spared from the violence by Mordis' mercy.
Noah's final thought, cut through the fog in his mind: What a great run this was...
And then, darkness.
[You died.]
[Innocent shall receive a second chance.]