The next stage of the Dimensional Runes was known as the Ruin.

It referred to a state where dimensional distortion occurred more intensely than with the Dimensional Runes.

Ruin was divided into two forms: external ruin and internal ruin.

The distinction lay in the “time of creation.”

If the creation time was short, it was classified as an “internal ruin.”

If the creation time was long, it was categorized as an “external ruin.”

The degree of “overload” also varied depending on that time difference.

When a ruin took the form of an internal ruin with a short creation time, monsters did not emerge from it.

In other words, as long as someone entered and cleared the ruin, it could be closed without causing any harm.

However, if a ruin was left unattended for a certain period, a phenomenon called “overload” occurred, in which monsters poured out of the ruin.

Depending on the type of ruin, specific “species” or “monsters” would emerge, designating all living beings on the continent as enemies until someone closed the ruin.

‘Come to think of it, didn’t this cause a duchy to collapse? Depending on the choices, even Ashtalon was destroyed because of it...’

Alon let out a soft sigh as he recalled various pieces of information.

‘Looking at it like this, by the time the psychedelic world reaches the starting point of the original story, it’s complete chaos. The Five Great Sins, Outer Gods, and the Four Great Powers are all intricately intertwined.’

Of course, the Five Great Sins were ultimately the most critical element.

‘Even the Dimensional Runes and Ruins were said to have occurred because of the Five Great Sins... What kind of structure is this?’

Alon thought back to the settings he had seen in the game, then shook his head after a moment.

He couldn’t figure out the connection between the Ruins and the Five Great Sins.

‘Well, Eliban will handle the ruins anyway.’

Alon looked at the man in front of him.

Smiling as he chatted with his companions, he seemed genuinely likable.

In other words, he really looked like a protagonist.

“Marquis? Do you have something to say...?”

“Ah.”

At some point, Eliban had turned his head to meet Alon’s gaze.

‘Hmm, maybe I was staring too openly.’

After a brief hesitation, Alon decided to ask something he’d been curious about.

“I was wondering something. May I ask?”

“If it’s you, Marquis, of course.”

Eliban straightened his posture as he answered.

The overly earnest reaction left Alon slightly flustered.

“You don’t have to go that far.”

“No, please speak freely.”

“Hmm—”

Impressed by Eliban’s courtesy, Alon asked his question.

“I heard you became a Chosen One. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“It might sound strange to ask, but what drives you to act?”

In truth, Alon’s curiosity was genuine.

In Psychedelia, players who became Chosen Ones moved autonomously and chose their own storylines.

While a Chosen One received the special mission of “handling the ruins” and a minimal guideline, most players didn’t follow it.

The guideline was sparse, and as ruin phenomena occurred simultaneously in multiple places over time, players were forced to make choices.

That was why Alon was curious.

What drove Eliban’s actions, and what criteria did he use to make his choices?

“Hmm—”

After a moment’s thought, Eliban smiled.

“For ‘them,’ of course.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I believe I must act for their sake. I’ve been blessed by them, after all.”

Without thinking, Alon nodded.

‘It seems he follows the original purpose of a Chosen One... Though his devoutness is a bit surprising. Then again, maybe it isn’t surprising at all?’

Of course, even without Sironia’s blessing, Eliban’s talent was already extraordinary.

Still, it was undeniable that receiving Sironia’s blessing and becoming even stronger had happened, so Alon simply nodded along.

‘Maybe I should use this opportunity to build connections with Eliban’s other companions.’

He shifted his gaze to those standing beside Eliban.

The three companions following him were all incredibly talented, and later they would become renowned throughout this world.

It wouldn’t hurt to establish rapport with future luminaries.

The only problem was—

‘...Why does that one seem to be glaring at me with such wary eyes?’

—one of them, Yan, seemed to be watching him with strangely sharp eyes.

It wasn’t blatant, but Alon—accustomed to looks like that after attending countless banquets—felt puzzled.

He hadn’t even had a proper conversation with her.

*****

On a steadily warming early-summer day—

The Holy Kingdom of Rosario, which served the goddess Sironia, appeared to be continuing peacefully, without major incidents, since the last Outer God event.

However, that was only from the outside.

Internally, two significant and unsettling events were unfolding.

The first was the pope’s seclusion.

Since the appearance of the artificial Outer God, the Holy Kingdom’s pope had not shown himself.

In other words, he had been in the prayer room for over a year.

No pope in history had remained in the prayer room for such an extended period, prompting the cardinals to visit him in person countless times—only to fail every time.

It was physically impossible.

From the moment the artificial Outer God appeared until now, a golden barrier had continuously surrounded the pope’s prayer room.

As a result, no one had been able to see the pope since he entered.

However, the second issue was even more troubling than the pope’s absence.

Since the incident with the artificial Outer God, the voice of the goddess Sironia had completely fallen silent.

“Hah...”

Inside the Saint’s chamber, Yuman let out a heavy sigh as he gazed at the statue of Sironia.

The goddess statue, which always glowed with white light during his prayers, had been utterly silent for over a year.

‘Why on earth...?’

Unease and confusion clouded Yuman’s face.

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t guess why he could no longer connect with the goddess Sironia.

‘Did I commit some irreverence toward the goddess? No, I’ve been using my divine power properly.’

Yuman stared at the golden divine power flowing from his fingertips.

His divine power certainly hadn’t vanished.

If anything, it had grown stronger compared to a year ago.

Yet despite that, the goddess Sironia remained silent to his words.

And it wasn’t just him.

The goddess had stopped responding to anyone.

What’s more, since the goddess’s silence, no new individuals capable of wielding divine power had emerged.

It was as if the goddess had withdrawn her blessings from her followers.

There had been past occasions when the goddess’s communication had been severed for over half a year, but never before had there been a case where no new priests were ordained.

‘Could something have happened to the goddess...?’

Turning over that recurring concern, Yuman left the Saint’s chamber.

“Oh my, Saint, how are you?”

“...Cardinal Yutia.”

“Yes.”

He soon ran into Yutia.

Looking at her—wearing her usual enigmatic smile—Yuman asked,

“...So, did you meet with the Chosen One?”

“Yes.”

“Was he truly someone blessed by the goddess Sironia?”

“Of course. That’s why I acknowledged him, isn’t it?”

Yuman murmured slowly,

“...That’s a lie.”

“What makes you say that?”

“This is handled with utmost secrecy among the cardinals, so the information hasn’t leaked outside, ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) but you’re aware, aren’t you? The goddess hasn’t spoken to anyone. And no one has received her blessing since.”

Despite Yuman’s logical point, Yutia’s smile didn’t change.

She only narrowed her crescent-shaped eyes slightly.

“Who knows, Saint—perhaps Sironia is giving her special care exclusively to the Chosen One. Just as she does with you.”

“...Given that the connection to the Saint’s chamber, closest to the goddess, has been severed, you must know that’s impossible.”

Yuman’s pointed observation.

Yutia didn’t answer.

She continued to gaze at Yuman with narrowed eyes—

“Let’s discuss this later. It’s time for the meeting, isn’t it?”

“Are you evading the question?”

“Not at all. Time’s up, so I’m simply moving on.”

She walked past him.

Yuman watched her with wary eyes for a moment, then quietly followed.

‘...Eliban, was it?’

He thought about the Chosen One Yutia had chosen—real or fake, he wasn’t sure.

*****

About a week and a few days later, Alon arrived at the ruin near the Duchy of Altia in northern Asteria.

‘The Duke of Altia asked me to visit, so I should stop by after dealing with this ruin. And I should also try using this.’

After glancing at the “Oath of Lemiel,” which he had obtained in a deal with Perion in Lartania, Alon shifted his gaze to the entrance of the ruin, shimmering violet.

‘It’s massive.’

He’d seen it in the game, but the entrance to the ruin was far larger than he expected.

‘Was it always this big?’

Still puzzled—

“Shall we go in?”

“Let’s do it.”

Alon started into the ruin, following Eliban.

“Are we really supposed to go in here?”

Evan hesitated, looking anxious.

But Alon moved forward without hesitation.

Even Evan, after a moment, squeezed his eyes shut and stepped into the ruin.

And soon—

“Wow—”

Evan let out a deep exclamation.

The scenery within the ruin was stunningly majestic.

‘...It really is impressive.’

Even Alon couldn’t help admiring the breathtaking view inside, though he kept his expression neutral.

The atmosphere was more surreal and dreamlike than he’d expected.

A violet sky—the hallmark of a ruin—stretched endlessly.

Below it, a violet fortress rose amid rugged mountains.

‘So this is the Ironblood Citadel.’

As the ruin’s name surfaced in Alon’s mind—

Thunk!

He realized something had embedded itself in the ground not far away. When he looked over—

“What... what is that?”

“...Living Armors, it seems.”

He spotted Living Armors turning away from the fortress and charging toward the intruders with murderous intent.

There were at least hundreds of them.

‘In the game, their level was only around 10, so at this point you’re supposed to avoid fighting them and sneak through a side path straight into the fortress, but—’

Alon’s lips curled into a small smile.

As someone well-acquainted with the Ironblood Citadel, he saw no need to run.

‘Once I wipe out these enemies here, there won’t be many Living Armors inside the fortress. Besides, dealing with these will help Eliban’s party grow stronger.’

For Alon, this was a chance to cast spells without worrying about conserving mana. The situation wasn’t bad at all. He began forming hand seals.

It was also an opportunity to test the results of his magical research over the past two months.

Creak! Creak!

The Living Armors began readying their bows in response to Alon’s actions, but he wasn’t concerned.

He already knew Living Armors prioritized attacking their targets before moving, and that their movements were slow.

As Alon calmly prepared to recite his incantation—

Zing!

Eliban suddenly shot forward.

Incredibly fast.

Then—

“Hah!”

Reaching the line of Living Armors with arrows nocked, Eliban wasted no time drawing the sword at his waist.

CRASH!!!

In an instant, dozens of Living Armors in front of him were reduced to piles of scrap metal.

Completely helpless.

“Are you all right, Marquis?”

Eliban turned back and asked urgently, concern clear on his face.

“Huh?”

Above Alon’s head, countless thoughts churned.

Among them—

‘...Level 10... wasn’t it?’

That one, in particular, stood out.