Endgame

'THE ART OF INVOCATION: THE LOST ART By Galter Droet.'

"Holy shit!"

I cursed out loud, nearly collapsing to the ground.

G-galter?! A book by Galter Droet?! Invocation?!

I was taken aback – massively so.

I mean...who wouldn't?!

If this book was here, then that damn perfectionist must have been here too!

Or...someone close to him...

I narrowed my eyes at the book, "Actually, in hindsight, Galter Droet descending into the Abyss shouldn't be so strange."

I mean...he was the type to go on adventures...as implied in his journal...wait-

My eyes slowly widened in realization, "C-could the words 'turn back' somehow be connected to Galter's descent?"

My breath hitched and terror gripped my heart.

During my early days in Untethered, I had stumbled upon Galter Droet's journal, the Quil-Book, an item which had saved my life on multiple occasions while also serving as my closest brush with death.

If Galter had learned something forbidden down here and scribbled it into his journal, then the words 'TURN BACK' was definitely a warning to those reading but...

This information wasn't new.

I already knew that behind that page was something forbidden, something so terrible that simply comprehending its contents was enough to drive one mad. After all, it had knocked out the Profane Cockatrice, drove the Hulk Fomorian mad and outright killed the head in Balor's artery.

One thing I had noticed though was that the magnitude of the damage dealt was proportionate with how many pages I had flipped through which meant that the more one read the cursed pages of Galter's journal, the more dangerous its contents become.

It was mortifying.

I gripped the book in my hand tighter and grimaced.

Alex, you're forgetting one other thing.

What's that?

If Galter was in this city, if he had descended into the Abyss then who was the Lost Skeleton?

DOOM.

Suddenly, for some strange reason, I felt a chill run up my spine.

Couldn't he have escaped this place?

No, that's impossible.

My inner voice replied before saying,

He never descended, remember. He never entered that cave.

My eyes flashed in realization, "Th-that's true..."

If he never entered the cave, then it would have been impossible for him to reach the Abyss Below.

My inner voice was right...but it was also wrong.

You forget one thing though...

With a quiet exhale, I plopped back to my seat.

You forgot the fact that we had left the cave through teleportation.

Uhh...no I didn't, your point?

I leaned back, whilst weighing the book in my hand.

The edge of the quarry where we had teleported to...the ancient magic circle which had acted as our receiver...is most likely capable of facilitating other magic circles...

I paused, before continuing.

So, if Galter had another circle and used it, then he would most likely have been able to teleport to the ancient circle.

But I don't understand...what's the link?

Proximity maybe, I have no idea.

My gaze turned back to the book in my hand, my fingers caressing over its elaborate designs.

But, if Galter had teleported there, then he as well fought those Fomorians and descended. We can rule out the instance of the Lost Skeleton being a stowaway of the Skeleton Thralls because of Silver Lining and its clothes...

My inner voice then continued my deduction.

Then that would mean that Galter had left the Abyss and returned back to the Wyvern Woods but ended up turning into the Lost Skeleton...so a curse then?

I sighed, leaning back.

No... it's too vague, I feel like we're missing something.

Well of course we are...

My inner voice spoke in a shrug while I stared up at the high-altitude chandelier.

"Galter Droet...truly a man of mystery."

Uhh...Alex, you do realize that we haven't even opened the damn book, right?

My eyes flashed.

You're right.

In a swift motion, I spun my chair back to the table and placed the book on it, before reaching my fingers to its sides and swinging it open or at least tried to...

"Oh God...not again!"

I gripped the book again and tried to pry it open but it was futile, the cover won't budge.

What the fuck?! It doesn't even have a damn lock!

Indeed.

Galter Droet's book had no lock in place and yet it seemed impossible to open. It was like the book was sealed with an immense force; the phenomenon reminded me of the impervious frames of the Skeleton Thralls which only fell apart once their skulls were destroyed.

HISS!! That damn bastard!!

BAM!

I slammed my hands into the chair, making its foundation quiver under my powerful might.

He's set up another damn puzzle!

I thought you liked puzzles.

I do of course, only for the satisfaction of seeing the maker's expression crumble, but this one...it's like its toying with me!

You seem to hate Galter Droet so much, why exactly?

My face darkened.

Isn't it obvious?

"It's because he's just like me."

At my words, my inner voice went silent.

"Damn."

I tossed the book across the table, my expression one of irritation. I gave the book one last glance and sighed, clicking my tongue.

And this book would have been pretty helpful...

I thought while glancing to my left hand, where the teleportation circle had been engraved.

Spoken Phantom Blink...

"Ugh...", I shook my head.

As much as I hate to admit it, life usually no-life is definitely not always going to go your way.

It's up to one to grasp it and twist it to one's will but the thing is...not many have the means, the power or the drive to do that and so life just keeps playing them.

These people are the reactive while the former are the proactive.

Am neither though...am the one who laughs to the tune of fate's strings.

Dawg, what does that even me-you know what forget it. Remember the ball, it's about time.

My gaze rose, as my expression slowly turned amiable.

Ah...thou speaketh truth...t'is time for the Fool's appearance.

Yeah, yeah. You know how to act in a ball?

Nope.

I replied before summoning an item from my inventory.

Open.

[Equipped Item: Waste Chest.]

The large trunk of indestructible wood weaved itself into existence before crashing to the ground in front of me. Swinging the lid open, I quickly rummaged through the chest, searching for a certain book.

Where? Where? AHA!

The instant I spotted it; my hands quickly yanked it out.

'BALLROOM ETIQUETTE By Elise of Crescent Moon.'

Hmm? Oh? Crescent Moon, huh?

"This will be fun."

I muttered before rising to my feet, replacing the books, storing Galter's book in my inventory, finishing my tea, setting back the chair, padding the Posh Reverie for wrinkles and walking out the secluded area.

There were a lot fewer scholars than earlier but the few that remained regarded me with mocking gazes or none at all.

I didn't pay them much mind though.

I'll need a mask...

I thought as I pushed open the doors of the Hollow Lexicon, and stepped out.

"Hmm."

My gaze reached the ashen sky, which had its suffused radiance dimmed; it was obviously evening by now.

Walking into a nearby antique store which was just about to close, I straightened my long coat and approached the old man or rather...old beastfolk behind the counter who was cleaning a silver monocle.

"Good day, my good sir. Thou art in need of a guise."

The old man chuckled, his brown mane bouncing, "Thou wishes to attend the Ever Gait Ball then."

"Most certainly.", I spoke with a gentle smile.

"Aye, thine demeanor befits the Drake.", the old man mused, as he set down the monocle.

At the mention of 'the Drake', my smile grew forced.

"Indeed. The Drake..."

"Aye, the Hollow Drake.", he replied, turning to his catalogue behind to find a mask, "Legends foretell that as the sky loses thy luster, the Drake's form shall form."

He continued, his voice growing more vigorous, "The Drake shall encompass heaven and earth, and thy people shall bear witness to his greatness. Thy shall pledge fealty and thou shall unmask the fool."

The old man concluded, handing me a mask, eerily similar to that of a jester's leer.

My smile did not dim, instead I said, "Indeed. Praise the Drake."

The old man smiled and turned away, "Yes...Hail the Drake."

After paying for the mask with a sizable amount of gold coins, I left the store and stopped a stagecoach on the street.

"The Grand Spire."

The man on the reins nodded, needing no other words.

TMP.

Climbing into the coach, I sat down comfortably and opened Elise's book.

I was the only one in the stagecoach, and thus, allowed myself to let out a mad grin.

My preparations are complete.

Now, the Grand Spire.

We've entered into the endgame.