The Game Difficulty
Is Insane
Wearing the dark crimson robes of the Black Order, Glen and Romina continued deeper down the passage.
After another ten or so minutes—
Step—
The stairs, so deep it felt like they might descend all the way to the bottom of hell, finally came to an end.
“…….”
At the end of the stairs stood a massive iron door.
In front of it, carved with strange and grotesque patterns, stood a figure wearing a dark crimson robe.
The man did not move at all, nor did he show any reaction to Glen and Romina’s approach.
Glen walked up to him.
“Only pure blood that has received God’s absolution shall cleanse your sins.”
The cultist, who had been motionless like a statue, answered in a deep and heavy voice.
“Yet flesh washed in pure blood shall soon be stained by new sins.”
“Prepare yourselves swiftly for what comes next. Then, on the day Kalungod returns to this land—”
Like reading a single book together, Glen and the cultist continued the scripture verse by verse.
Watching this, Romina frowned deeply inside her robe, chills running down her spine.
Only after exchanging five or six passages with Glen did the cultist finally speak normally.
“Comrade who walks the pilgrimage of atonement. What calling has led you to this place?”
“We have come following the traces of the pilgrims who walked before us, and the prophets who guided them.”
“…May Kalungod walk alongside the pilgrimage you tread.”
The cultist guarding the door rolled up his sleeve and revealed his arm.
In the old man’s thin fingers—utterly mismatched with his deep, steady voice—was a rusted key.
He turned his body and opened the iron door.
Creeeeak—
As the door opened, another passage stretched beyond it.
Glen passed the gatekeeper, replying quietly.
“May Kalungod walk alongside us.”
Clang—
Once Glen and Romina passed through, the iron door closed again.
After they had moved some distance away, Romina asked,
“Is all the security like this?”
“You can think of it as one additional layer of security every time we pass a door. I know all the methods, so don’t worry.”
Seeing Romina holding back her curiosity with a sigh, Glen let out a quiet chuckle.
‘You’re dying of curiosity, aren’t you?’
After all, Glen—who wasn’t even part of the Black Order—was reciting their sacred scripture perfectly.
In truth, even this wasn’t the proper sequence according to the original story.
To enter the Black Order’s archive, one was supposed to possess their scripture.
But since Glen already had the necessary passages memorized, the scripture itself wasn’t needed.
“Still, why would they go to such lengths to secure the place, yet choose such a dangerous location?”
“That’s what I was saying too… but honestly, no one would normally imagine it being beneath a crowded plaza.”
Though risky, hiding it beneath the main plaza of the Holy City could be seen as a clever blind spot.
In fact, in the original story, this place was never discovered unless the player found it.
“Still, it’s strange. One mistake and all their records could be wiped out.”
“The Black Order has always been a group you shouldn’t try to understand.”
“…That’s not wrong.”
Recalling all the Black Order members she had encountered so far, Romina shook her head.
Then she looked at the long rows of bookshelves lining both sides of the corridor.
“But… are we already here?”
“Yeah. From here on, this is the archive.”
“Really? But if there’s still security left to pass, does that mean the information we want isn’t here?”
Romina touched her hair thoughtfully.
“That’s right. Sharp of you.”
The Black Order’s archive was structured so that the deeper one went past the iron doors and guards, the more important the records became.
‘That way, even if something happens, they can safely destroy the most critical records.’
This area was the lowest-rank archive.
If Glen wanted information about the prophets, he had to reach the deepest archive.
“So how many checks are left?”
“Three.”
“So five total. Can we go in and out today?”
“Of course. The stairs were the longest part—about forty minutes. From here to the deepest archive, it won’t take that long.”
“That’s a relief.”
Inside the dark crimson robe, Romina raised an eyebrow slightly.
“May Kalungod walk alongside you.”
Clang—
The final iron door closed behind them.
Just as Glen said, it hadn’t taken long to get here.
“Good work.”
Romina spoke while massaging Glen’s shoulders, who had just finished an intense scripture exchange with the gatekeeper.
Glen let out a long breath.
‘Wow… doing this for real is exhausting as hell.’
At first, it was only a few sentences.
But the deeper they went, the longer the passages exchanged with each gatekeeper became.
The last one alone required nearly half a small book’s worth of scripture.
‘And if your pronunciation slips, they glare at you.’
After that, they had to explain which branch they belonged to, who they were, and why they had come to the deepest archive—then wait for confirmation.
Identity verification was simple—just checking whether the name and position existed in the order’s registry—so Glen could bluff his way through with what he knew.
Still, turning something that was automatic in the game—having the “Black Order Scripture” item—into real-world actions was no easy task.
‘Still, we made it through.’
A long hallway bathed in purple light.
Bookshelves standing at even intervals on both sides, filled densely with dark crimson books.
The deepest archive, containing detailed records of the prophets and the cult leader Porbinus.
Looking at the grand yet grotesque product of countless efforts, Glen felt his fatigue ease.
“So, what are we looking for now?”
“No need to search. And lower your voice. We’re not alone.”
“…Huh?”
As Romina tilted her head—
Tiring—
A small bell rang somewhere.
Then, from behind them, came a child’s voice.
“Comrade who walks the pilgrimage of atonement.”
Romina flinched and turned around.
There stood a young boy, no more than ten years old.
“What do you seek?”
