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Solomon stepped into the hidden chamber. The moment his boots crossed the threshold, the rusted iron torches mounted on the pillars instantly ignited.

However, these flames did not burn with a cool blue light like the outer crypt. They burned with a deep, menacing crimson hue. The torches were spaced incredibly far apart from one another, leaving patches of absolute darkness between the flickering pools of red light.

The secret chamber felt impossibly large, yet as Solomon scanned the room, he realized it was completely empty.

He had fully expected to find a sprawling treasury stacked with gold coins, ancient royal armor, or rows of mythical artifacts since the method to find and open the secret chamber was so difficult. Instead, the vast room contained absolutely nothing.

Solomon continued walking straight down the center of the chamber. The crimson torches automatically ignited as he advanced, lighting his path forward. He walked for several minutes until the automatic ignition sequence suddenly stopped.

He had reached the edge of the light.

A clear stone path stretched out into the darkness ahead, but there were no more torches mounted on the walls.

"I am not walking blindly into the dark again," Solomon muttered. He utilized Basic Parkour to leap up the side of the nearest pillar, grabbing the final burning crimson torch and tearing the iron bracket straight out of the stone.

Holding the makeshift light source high, he resumed his trek forward.

He walked for a while longer until the flickering red light revealed a wide flight of stone steps rising out of the darkness. He stopped at the base of the stairs and squinted his eyes, trying to see what sat at the top.

The crimson flame failed to pierce the shadows effectively.

For some inexplicable reason, every survival instinct in his body screamed at him not to proceed without securing a clear line of sight.

Solomon reared his arm back and tossed the burning torch high into the air. The heavy iron spun through the darkness, arcing over the stairs before clattering loudly against the stone steps and rolling upward.

As the spinning flame briefly illuminated the top of the dais, Solomon caught a fleeting glimpse of something resting in the shadows.

A figure was sitting on a stone throne. The man possessed long, flowing dark hair and glowing red eyes. He leaned heavily against the armrest of the throne, resting his chin casually on a clenched fist. He was staring straight down the steps, looking directly into Solomon’s eyes.

Solomon did not hesitate for a single second. He immediately reached over his shoulder, drew Eden’s Penance, and dropped into a defensive stance, fully preparing for a boss fight.

He waited for a few seconds, but nothing happened. The figure did not move, and no killing intent rolled down the stairs.

Solomon waited a few seconds longer, yet the silence of the chamber remained unbroken.

"Are we fighting or not?" Solomon called out into the darkness. No response came.

He walked up the first few steps, reached the rolling torch, and kicked the iron bracket higher up the stairs to illuminate the throne again. The crimson flame flared, casting light across the dais.

Solomon stared at the seat. The dark-haired, red-eyed figure was completely gone.

Instead, a set of bleached skeletal remains sat upon the stone throne, positioned in the exact same casual, leaning posture as the figure he had just seen.

"What was that?" Solomon muttered, keeping his greatsword raised. "Was that the lingering spirit of the dead guy, or did the lack of sleep finally trigger a hallucination? Where is chat when you need them?"

He did not particularly care either way. He bent down, picked up the burning torch, and marched the rest of the way up the stairs until he stood directly in front of the throne.

He grabbed the skeleton’s bony right hand and shoved the iron torch handle directly into its grip. The sudden movement dislodged the skull from the brittle spine. The skull dangled helplessly for a second before snapping off entirely and tumbling down into the skeleton’s pelvic lap.

Solomon let out a tired sigh. He picked the skull up and tried to balance it back onto the cervical vertebrae, but the bone refused to stay upright, continuously rolling off the shoulders.

"This is annoying," Solomon grumbled. He tossed the skull into the air, took a step back, and kicked it exactly like a football. The skull sailed across the dark chamber, disappearing into the shadows.

He listened as the bone hit the distant stone floor, rattling and rolling into the darkness. He waited a few seconds, fully expecting the blatant disrespect of the dead to trigger a vengeful spirit, a curse, or a hidden boss monster.

Absolutely nothing happened.

"I was really expecting a boss to jump out," Solomon complained, resting Eden’s Penance against his collarbone. "This is incredibly boring."

He grabbed the torch back from the skeleton’s hand and glanced around the dais. He analyzed the ornate carvings on the stone seat and the layout of the room.

"Wait a minute," Solomon muttered, stepping closer to the armrests. "This is not just a fancy chair. This is the actual royal throne of the Azure Kingdom."

He looked back toward the entrance of the chamber, visualizing the layout of the ruined palace above. "Why on earth is the royal throne sitting down here in a sealed underground bunker instead of up in the main throne room?"

He looked back down at the headless skeleton resting on the cushions. "If this is the royal throne, does that mean this guy was the King?"

Solomon held the torch closer to inspect the remains. The dark, ornate robes draped over the bones were surprisingly well-preserved, though they smelled heavily of dust and decay. He shifted the torch lower to illuminate the skeleton’s boots.

Trapped firmly beneath the soles of the dead man’s leather boots was an intricate, gilded royal crown.

The skeleton had died sitting with its feet resting directly on top of the divine artifact.

"What the actual fuck?"

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