Chapter 378: Chapter 377: The Mad Golden Mask

One minute, two minutes, three minutes…

One hour, two hours, three hours…

The “click click click” sound did not stop. Richard had forgotten about time, continuously twisting the Magic Cube. After a while, with a “snap” it stopped, and he put the Magic Cube on the table, exhaling deeply.

He stood up and stretched his sore body, causing a series of cracking sounds from his bones.

“Phew, finally restored to its original state,” Richard said with bloodshot eyes as he picked up the Magic Cube again to inspect it. His gaze settled on the side lined with vertical grooves and cautiously applied a bit of force. With a “crack,” the Magic Cube split open in the middle.

Richard saw that the internals of the Magic Cube were filled with numerous complex gears–far more intricate than any modern-day Earth Magic Cube. At its core was a litchi-sized hollow, inside which lay a neatly cut piece of parchment.

He carefully took out the parchment and closed the Magic Cube, which after a moment automatically reverted back to its original Metallic Ball form.

“Regardless of what’s written on the parchment, or its use, the Metallic Ball’s design itself is of great value,” Richard thought.

To prevent the Metallic Ball from being forcibly dismantled or destroyed, it had a self-destruct mechanism capable of unleashing Destruction Level damage. Now that he had successfully cracked it, he could potentially harness the Metallic Ball’s self-destruct feature as an offensive weapon. If used well, even the strongest Wizard would perish in bitterness.

Of course, how to trigger the necessary impact to activate the Metallic Ball was one question; how to ensure safety from the blast radius when it self-destructed was a second question.

Richard mused on this and flipped his hand, materializing another object.

It was a blood-red bead about the size of an eyeball–the Destruction Pearl that Old Marlon had given to him a long time ago and which he had reserved unused.

According to Old Marlon, the destructive power of the Destruction Pearl was enough to instantaneously slay an Official Wizard; its attack strength ought to be formidable.

Then…

Richard glanced at the blood-red Destruction Pearl and then at the ashen Metallic Ball. His eyes glinted but he said nothing, placing both items into the Space Iron Ring.

He then turned and looked toward the parchment he had taken out from the Metallic Ball.

“Let’s see what exactly is written on this, and what information it might hold,” Richard said as he carefully unfolded the neatly cut and folded parchment to reveal a line of words that resembled the name of a place.

His eyes twinkling, Richard softly read out, “Stego… Mo’er.”

Stego Mo’er?

Richard furrowed his brow. This name was very similar to a modern Earth city, but did such a place exist in this current world?

Did it? Perhaps it did, but he had never heard of it.

Could it be an abandoned or forgotten name of a place that once existed?

That was a possibility, especially since what was stored inside the Metallic Ball was the secret of the Black Spirit King, hidden centuries ago.

This created a problem.

If this place name referred to a large city, untouched by war or natural disasters, then maybe it hadn’t changed much. But if it was the name of some remote town or impoverished village, having gone through a dozen name changes wouldn’t be surprising–some Nobles in the current world had a perverse pleasure in adding their own names to everything in their domain, like Mux City, Alexander Town, Deke Village, Aliules River, and so on.

“Stego Mo’er?” Richard murmured to himself, considering what this place name represented, and why so much effort was taken to hide it in the Metallic Ball. Could it possibly be the next clue to the Black Spirit King’s Treasure?

Could it be? Was the previous tomb just a beginning, followed by more hidden riches, initiating him onto a chain of treasures?

That seemed a bit exaggerated. Just deciphering the tomb had already depleted much of his energy and time; it was nearly impossible for an ordinary human to solve it. If the tomb was just the beginning, how challenging would the subsequent clues be? And at the very end of it all, what would be lying in wait?

While pondering, Richard continued to repeat to himself, “Stego Mo’er? Stego Mo’er?”

The Golden Mask hanging on the wall overheard, chiming in, “Stego Mo’er, this name sounds very familiar.”

“Hm?” Richard turned to the Golden Mask, “You know of this place?”

“Um, I should,” the Golden Mask mused out loud, “That name gives me a very familiar feeling, as if I know where it is. It’s just that… it seems the memory is too faded, a bit unclear. Let me think…”

“Okay,” Richard said.

The Golden Mask grew silent, thinking earnestly.

Then…

One hour, two hours, three hours…

The Golden Mask remained motionless.

Four hours, five hours, six hours…

The Golden Mask still showed no sign of life.

Seven hours, eight hours, nine hours…

The Golden Mask was still devoid of movement.

In a blink of an eye, a day had passed and Richard had recuperated and adjusted his physical condition. He made several attempts to refine the true “Magic Salvo” and conducted some other tedious research.

Having finished these tasks, Richard walked over to the Golden Mask and saw that it remained silent, not uttering a word.

Richard knew that when deep in thought, one tended to lose track of time, and he particularly disliked being disturbed. Nevertheless, out of a certain anxiety, he reached out and gently tapped on the Golden Mask, asking, “Bang! You… are you alright?”

“I…” The Golden Mask finally spoke, its voice somewhat sluggish, “I… don’t know…”

It seemed there was indeed a problem.

Richard narrowed his eyes and asked, “Do you remember what Stockholm is?”

“Stockholm? Sto… ckholm?” The Golden Mask’s voice trailed off, followed by a pause and then a pained, frantic outburst, “I… can’t remember, I can’t recall! I’m sure I knew it, I truly remembered, but… it just won’t come back to me! Let me think again, let me try once more!”

“Uh, you continue, don’t rush,” Richard said, slowing his pace and quietly stepping away.

Before long, it was the next day.

Richard once again tapped lightly on the Golden Mask and asked, “How about now, have you thought of it?”

“Don’t bother me! I’m thinking, I’m thinking! Almost there, just give me a little more time, a little more time! Just a bit!” The Golden Mask exclaimed, its tone somewhat explosive.

“Uh, alright then, you carry on,” Richard said calmly and left once again.

The third day.

“Ah, almost there, almost! I said Ma Shan and that’s final, no rushing, no rushing!” Before Richard could tap softly, the Golden Mask yelled out in anticipation.

The fourth day.

“It’s almost ready, it’s almost ready, it’s almost ready…” The Golden Mask muttered incessantly to itself.

The fifth day…

The sixth day…

The seventh day…

The Golden Mask had spent a whole week contemplating a single place name, becoming more anxious and pained with each passing day, as if it was no longer simply recalling a place but pondering something far more significant.

And so, a week later, Richard asked the Golden Mask again, “Have you come up with an answer?”

Upon hearing Richard’s question, the Golden Mask didn’t respond but instead asked a question of its own, “Tell me, who… who am I?”

“Hm?”

“Kid, tell me, who am I?” The Golden Mask’s tone intensified, its voice growing louder.

“You are the Golden Mask, the guardian of this world’s palace. Uh, even though the palace itself was dismantled, you still are.”

“No!” The Golden Mask forcefully denied, its voice rising, “No! No, no, no! You’re wrong, you’re talking about an identity, a name, a code, a facade! That’s not me, that’s not the real me!”

“Then, what is the real you?”

“I! I… I don’t know!” The Golden Mask cried out agitatedly, “All I know is that I’m a soul that has been sealed. But who I was before the seal, why I was sealed… I should remember these things, but I’ve forgotten them, damn it. Truly damn it! Can you… tell me?”

“Uh, that… ”