After descending what would be about seven or eight stories by Earth's standards, Sylas finally reached a flat floor and a long corridor. As he walked forward, the golden patterns on the walls glowed brighter, lighting his path. Five minutes in, a voice echoed around him.
"Seeker of the trial," the voice intoned as the entire chamber lit up as bright as day. In the center appeared a warrior, shrouded in animal skins, his image flickering like a mirage. Sylas blinked in surprise.
"…A hologram?"
Anyone else would have scread, assuming it was a ghost. But Sylas, accustod to modern technology, saw it as akin to a 3D projection from a movie.
"If you seek the dragon's heart, then show reverence," bood the warrior.
"Reverence?" Sylas raised an eyebrow. The warrior, interpreting this as defiance, stood and shouted.
"Yes, reverence! You, who seek my legacy—do you even know who I am?"
Sylas gave an exaggerated "oh" of admiration. "Ohhh." It seed this projection was interactive, not just a recorded ssage. Amused, he refrained from answering further, causing the warrior's expression to twist in annoyance.
"Why do you not answer? Speak my na!"
"…Godfrey, the demon slayer," Sylas replied half-heartedly.
"Yes! I am Godfrey!" the warrior declared, pride swelling in his voice.
"I have slain countless demons and struck terror into their hearts. I banished a demonic god from rising to the surface, and I alone killed an ancient dragon. My na is legend; my glory, eternal. Therefore, warrior, show your reverence! I am Godfrey!"
Sylas stared at the blustering image, his face impassive. It appeared that the hologram had preserved Godfrey's sense of self-importance.
'What an insufferable personality,' he mused. The grandeur of the chamber had hinted at this, but he hadn't expected the extent of Godfrey's vanity. Still, he decided to humor the apparition a bit longer.
Just as Sylas began to bow, Godfrey cut him off with a shout.
"Stop! Do you intend to pay your respects from there?"
"Then…?"
"Ridiculous! How could you dare to stand on the sa level as ? Unless, of course, you've accomplished feats surpassing mine!"
Godfrey lifted his chin arrogantly and pointed to a lower area off to the side. Clearly, it was ant for a person of lower status.
"Go! Show your reverence from your proper place!" He turned, ascending steps to a grand chair on a raised platform, as though preparing to enjoy the spectacle.
"Haha…" Sylas chuckled. He had thought about playing along, but this was getting absurd.
"What are you waiting for? Show your reverence!" Godfrey's voice bood impatiently.
"…Screw off, you crazy bastard," Sylas replied, lifting his middle finger in open defiance.
For a mont, Godfrey's image stood still, as if processing what had just happened. His expression shifted as he grasped the insult.
"H-How dare you…!" Godfrey's form trembled, as though he had physical substance. He didn't need to know exactly what the gesture ant; he sensed the disrespect.
"You, a lowly wretch, dare to insult Godfrey?"
Clank. Clank. Clank.
With his furious shouts, chanical sounds reverberated around the chamber, like a complex system of gears clicking into place.
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"There will be no trial! You are unworthy of my legacy! Regret your disrespect and know you have wasted this chance for eternity!"
"Yeah, right," Sylas scoffed, unperturbed by the apparition's bluster. "All bark and no bite."
"What do you think you're doing?" Godfrey demanded as Sylas ignored him, heading toward the lower platform Godfrey had indicated earlier.
"Searching," Sylas replied nonchalantly, moving to kneel and examine the floor. Godfrey sneered.
"Do you regret your actions now? It's too late! Once lost, such an opportunity never returns!"
"Would you shut up already? All you are is a mouthy ghost from the distant past."
"Y-You insolent…!"
"Oh, found it." With a loud snap, Sylas pried up a section of the floor, revealing a hidden chanism.
"I knew it," he murmured, smirking.
"What are you doing?!"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm taking the dragon's heart," Sylas replied. The chanism beneath the floor was relatively simple, ancient in design. Sylas had encountered enough dungeon traps to understand complex chanisms easily, and this one, made in an era predating modern dungeons, was no challenge for him.
The intricacies were crude by comparison, and it was just a matter of ti before he cracked it.
"There's a lock here," Sylas muttered to himself, studying the chanism.
Godfrey's holographic image flinched, clearly alard. The clanking sounds from earlier had undoubtedly co from this lock.
"With a little tinkering, I could reset it… or just remove it so it can't lock again," Sylas mused aloud.
"Stop! Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Godfrey demanded, a mixture of panic and indignation in his voice.
"Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing," Sylas replied with a smirk, casting a mocking glance at the hologram. "I'm unlocking a chanism that could've been bypassed by simply bowing to you a hundred tis."
"How… how did you know!?"
Godfrey's hologram stared in shock. These chanisms had been designed specifically for reverence-based activation, but Sylas ignored his question, recalling mories from before his return to this tiline.
'Ragnar spread this information far and wide after the trial, making himself look heroic,' Sylas thought. In the past, Ragnar had concealed all discoveries about the dungeons and chambers he found, but afterward, he repackaged the information into a legendary tale to cent his status. Ironically, that propaganda had given Sylas the clues he needed now.
'Who knew it would help here,' he mused. The Platinum Council had taken place, but a king had never been chosen in his previous life. However, Ragnar's records on the chamber's secrets had proved useful later. According to the records, Ragnar had bowed a hundred tis to honor the "great hero Godfrey," which then opened the path to the dragon's heart.
"Exactly as it was written," Sylas muttered, examining the chanism's connections.
"So, each bow shifts the gears until they align at a specific point after one hundred repetitions? And if not perford perfectly, the chanism resets to the beginning."
Essentially, it required a full hundred reverent bows in precise form, without any laxness or mistakes, for the chanism to trigger. Sylas couldn't help but scoff.
"A thousand years dead and you still want the living to worship you," he muttered.
"Silence!" Godfrey shouted. "I could recount my deeds until the sun sets and rises again! And yet you think unworthy of a single act of reverence?"
"Your achievents are impressive, but you're just pathetic."
"Pa-pathetic?" Godfrey stamred, caught off guard.
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