Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King’s Personal Knight - [Chapter 25]: Atlas Part 1

One after another, pristine white skeletons crawled out of the darkness, crowding the already narrow tunnel.

As Alaric approached, the automatic defense mechanisms screeched sharply. Their bronze-hued bodies were disassembled and reassembled in the blink of an eye!

A surge of magical power emanating from the three defense units caused Alaric’s pupils to contract; his instincts warned him of what was about to happen.

The rapid whirring sound, like an overloaded turbine, released its energy in an instant.

Buzz—

Three dazzling beams of light shot toward Alaric!

The core is in the center!

“Sir Alaric! Attack the core in the center!”

Almost simultaneously, both Alaric and Holmes noticed what lay behind the beams of light.

Alaric felt the oncoming heatwave, instantly analyzing the power of the attack from the magical energy and heat contained within the beams.

At his current speed, he could easily dodge it—but behind him stood Holmes and Nitocris!

I can block this!

Fzzzz—!

Rising magical energy swirled around Aalric’s body. As he moved to intercept, the skeletons summoned by Nitocris threw themselves in front of him, continuously weakening the beams’ power. By the time they reached Alaric, the beams had already lost most of their strength. They posed no threat to him!

Crack!

Enduring the three beams, Alaric seized the moment as the defense unit’s attack went into cooldown and thrust his sword into the core. In an instant, there was a brilliant flash of light! The massive magical energy from the ruptured core surged past Alaric like a roaring tidal wave.

Two more to go!

More skeletons crawled out from below, momentarily distracting the remaining two defense units, but they were quickly shredded by the units’ high-speed rotations.

The advancing defense units were like rolling blades, aiming to tear Alaric apart!

?!

Alaric withdrew his sword, then, with a swift movement, extended his arm like a spear, grabbing the nearest defense unit and halting its rotation with sheer strength!

Crack!

Having located the core, it was only a matter of time before Alaric dealt with the remaining two units. In less than ten seconds, all three were completely incapacitated.

“Are all the defenses in the Atlas Institute like this?”

Alaric asked, examining the shattered core. Though only the size of his palm, the prism held a staggering amount of magical energy, capable of self-replenishment—something beyond Alaric’s imagination.

“Yes, Sir Alaric. With the alchemical reserves of the Atlas Institute and these self-sustaining defense units, I suspect many more enemies await us,” Holmes replied, seeming unfazed—a remark Alaric did not want to hear. This meant he and Nitocris would have to fight their way through.

“Don’t worry! Pharaoh Nitocris will grant you her blessing!”

Nitocris declared confidently.

Crack—!

Alaric casually crushed the broken core. To him, such shattered cores held little value; with his current abilities, he couldn’t extract any technological insights from them.

After another defense unit fell, Alaric, Holmes, and Nitocris finally exited the tunnel and entered a vast space. Dozens, if not hundreds, of tunnels led off in different directions.

Alaric pointed at the path before them.

“Which way should we take?”

Unknowingly, he had already deferred to Holmes, trusting in the world’s greatest mind.

“Shall I keep using my familiars to explore these tunnels?”

Nitocris asked, recalling their previous search method.

“We cannot use Miss Nitocris’s familiars. As we’ve seen, most of the Atlas Institute’s defense systems are still operational. If her familiars scout too widely, it will activate all the defense units at once, converging them on our location,” Holmes replied, dismissing her suggestion. After a moment’s thought, he turned to Alaric, who immediately had a bad feeling.

“Sir Alaric, it seems we’ll need to try each path one by one. Fortunately, I’ve narrowed down the area—the path to the center should be among them.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Alaric took a deep breath and naturally took the lead.

…

Some time later.

“What’s that?”

Alaric noticed something embedded in the distant limestone wall. Unlike the limestone, the object shone with a metallic luster. Approaching it, he saw it was a metal plaque engraved with words.

“Zepia Eltnam Atlasia?”

Alaric slowly read the name, but part of the inscription had been scratched out, making the rest indecipherable.

Holmes, who had been observing the plaque, raised an eyebrow.

“Every head of the Atlas Institute is granted the title of Atlasia. This must be the last head. There may have been successors, but their names haven’t been preserved.”

“The last head?”

Alaric raised an eyebrow, mirroring Holmes’s expression.

“All Atlas heads inevitably go mad. In their attempts to challenge the future, they create weapons capable of destroying the world, leading to their insanity,” Holmes explained.

“What an unfortunate job.”

After hearing this, Alaric paused.

“So why did he carve his name here? Is this like a hall of fame? It feels like there should be a portrait here, too.”

Alaric continued searching along the wall, finding several similar metal plaques—all the information had been erased.

“Mr. Holmes, what do you make of this?”

Alaric asked, standing in front of a large door embedded into the limestone wall. If not for noticing something odd, they might have missed it entirely.

Holmes and Nitocris approached the door, examining it closely. After Nitocris used her magic to probe, Holmes bit his pipe and fell silent.

“We haven’t encountered a single person so far. Even if our destination is the center, we can’t ignore this place,” Alaric muttered.

Bang bang!

Alaric knocked on the door, the echo revealing its heavy weight.

“Holmes, do you think I have a chance of opening this door?”

Having finally found something different, Alaric was reluctant to let it go—especially after learning that the Atlas Institute held unparalleled magical artifacts. His curiosity was piqued. He was in dire need of a weapon he could rely on.

“Sir Alaric, forcibly opening the door might trigger traps. I wouldn’t recommend it,” Holmes advised.

“No traces of magic here,” Nitocris suddenly noted.

Alaric raised his eyebrows.

“No magic? Then you two step back, and I’ll give it a try.”

Just as Alaric prepared to force the door open—

Buzz!

The air seemed to reverse, a powerful suction force erupting from deep within. It felt as if they were being slowly pulled into an abyss, like being caught in a whirlpool at the ocean’s depths.

The air turbulence was secondary; the real shock came from the strange aura that both Alaric and Holmes sensed.

“This time… something feels different—”