Chapter 85: The Masked Man Of Caelan

Chapter 85: Chapter 85: The Masked Man Of Caelan

Inside the woods, two figures walked between the trees. Caelan moved easily through the shadows as if he had merely taken a stroll, his cloak barely brushing the low branches. While the other elf kept to the shadows several yards behind him, silent and watchful. He wore a black mask that covered his entire face and a long sword hung from his waist. Neither said a word for a while before the masked elf finally spoke.

"You are becoming reckless."

Caelan paused and turned his head slightly. "Am I?"

"You exposed yourself."

"I stood in a forest."

"You stood close enough for the Dungeon Master to sense you."

Caelan laughed. "He already knows I am watching him."

The masked elf’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. "You still should not have gone there."

Caelan turned around completely. "Why?"

"You were collecting energy from a battle involving him, and if he had attacked you, everything would have become complicated."

Caelan laughed quietly. "Arin Rahman is not ready to defeat me."

"You do not know that."

"I know what I saw."

The masked elf remained silent as Caelan looked toward the distant settlement. The lights of the Elf Lands flickered faintly through the trees.

"He is improving," Caelan said.

"Quickly," the masked elf added.

"Very quickly." There was something different in Caelan’s voice as he said those words and not from concern, but more from intrigue. A fascination he didn’t bother to hide.

The masked elf noted this change. "You seem pleased."

"I am."

"Why?"

Caelan looked at him. "Because I have spent a long time waiting to see what the next Dungeon Master would become."

The masked elf said nothing as Caelan continued walking. The forest grew denser, older.

"You saw him in the battle against the Authorities," Caelan said.

"I did."

"You saw him use Dungeon Sense, but without relying on his System."

"Yes."

"He learned. He survived."

Caelan smiled. "There is a difference."

The masked elf followed him deeper into the woods. After several minutes, they arrived at a ruined old stone structure that was hardly visible beneath the moss. The building had no doors or windows, but instead only a small opening between two pillars.

Caelan and the masked elf stepped inside as the darkness around them changed dramatically, revealing ancient magical symbols carved into the stone walls that pulsed with a faint glow. The air inside was cold, still, untouched for centuries.

The masked elf stopped. "You brought me here for a reason."

Caelan looked at the walls. "Yes."

He raised his hand and a small projection appeared in the air with an image of a Dungeon Master standing in a large hall alongside a young elf. The younger elf, in his armor, had his face uncovered and held a sword in his hands, his expression nervous but determined.

The masked elf looked at the image, his shoulders tensing.

"You remember this."

The masked elf’s gaze remained on the image. "That was a long time ago."

"Very long."

Caelan dismissed the image with a flick of his wrist. The light vanished.

"The records in the Elf Lands are becoming a problem," Caelan said.

The masked elf looked toward him. "Them, discovering your name?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"That they discovered I existed during that period."

The masked elf’s eyes narrowed. "And they now know you existed thousands of years ago."

"Yes."

"You should have destroyed the records."

Caelan smiled. "Would you have preferred that?"

"It would have been safer."

"For me?"

"For both of us."

Caelan turned toward him. "You have always been more cautious than I am."

The masked elf said nothing as Caelan walked toward the center of the room. The symbols on the walls pulsed brighter as he passed.

"You followed the True Hero," Caelan said.

The masked elf’s body tensed.

"You served under him." He did not reply. "You were there when I was still an apprentice." Still nothing. Caelan looked at him. "And you are still following me."

The masked elf finally spoke. "I have my reasons."

Caelan smiled. "I know."

The masked elf looked toward the ancient wall. "Why did you preserve yourself?"

Caelan’s smile disappeared. The question hung in the room for several seconds before he finally replied. "You already know the answer."

"I know what you told me."

"Then you know enough."

"No." The masked elf turned toward him. "I don’t."

Caelan looked back at him. They stared at each other for a moment before the masked elf lowered his voice.

"You were a Dungeon Master apprentice."

"I was."

"You served the True Hero."

"I did."

"You were young."

"I was."

"You should be dead."

Silence.

Caelan slowly smiled. "Yet here I am."

The masked elf’s hand moved slightly toward his sword, noting this movement, Caelan replied, "You still don’t trust me."

"I never said I did."

Caelan laughed quietly. "Good." He stepped closer. "Trust is dangerous."

The masked elf lowered his hand. "What about Arin?"

Caelan’s expression became thoughtful. "What about him?"

"Why do you want him?"

Caelan did not reply immediately, instead he stated, "Because he is different."

"Different from the others?"

"Yes."

"You said that about the previous Dungeon Masters."

"I was studying them."

"And now?"

Caelan looked toward the wall. "Now I am watching one who doesn’t understand what he has become."

The masked elf tilted his head slightly. "You could simply kill him."

Caelan looked at him. "I could."

"Then why don’t you?"

"Because killing him would teach me nothing."

The masked elf remained silent as Caelan continued.

"The previous Dungeon Masters were already shaped by their circumstances when I found them. Some were strong. Some were broken. Some were consumed by their own authority." He paused. "But Arin is still changing. He hasn’t decided what kind of monster he will be."

The masked elf understood. "You want to see what happens."

"Exactly."

"You are treating him like an experiment."

Caelan smiled. "Everything teaches us something."

The masked elf stared at him. "And if he becomes stronger than you expected?"

Caelan’s smile remained. "Then I will learn something new."

The masked elf shook his head. "You haven’t changed."

Caelan looked at him. "Neither have you."

The masked elf said nothing as Caelan turned away.

"How long has it been?" Caelan asked.

"Since what?"

"Since you last spoke to another person without that mask."

The masked elf was silent.

"Years?"

"No."

"Decades?"

"No."

"Centuries?"

The masked elf’s eyes narrowed. "You already know."

Caelan laughed. "Yes." He walked toward the exit. "Come."

The masked elf followed him as they emerged from the ruins under the moonlight. For a moment, the light landed on the masked elf’s hand, revealing an old mark on his wrist - a symbol. Faded, scarred, in the shape of a broken crown.

Caelan glanced at it. "You still have it."

The masked elf covered the mark quickly. "It doesn’t matter anymore."

"It mattered once."

"That was another life."

Caelan’s expression became unreadable. "Perhaps."

They walked through the woods again. After a while, the masked elf stopped and Caelan continued several steps before realizing.

"What?"

The masked elf looked toward the direction of the Elf settlement, his hand on his sword.

"Someone is coming."

Caelan turned around, but could not see anyone. "Who?"

"I don’t know."

Caelan closed his eyes. A faint wave of mana spread through the forest, brushing every tree and shadow, but nothing else. Then he smiled.

"Interesting."

The masked elf looked at him. "You felt it?"

"Something," Caelan said. "A ripple."

"Should we investigate?"

"No."

Caelan began walking again and the masked elf followed him.

"You are not curious?"

"Of course I am."

"Then why leave?"

Caelan looked at the moon. "Because curiosity is not the same as impatience."

The masked elf remained quiet as they eventually reached another clearing with a small campfire in the center. Caelan sat beside it while the masked elf remained standing, as always.

"You can sit."

"I prefer standing."

Caelan smiled. "You still haven’t changed."

The masked elf ignored him. Caelan looked into the fire, its light dancing across his face.

"Do you remember the first Dungeon Master you met?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember the second?"

"Yes."

"The third?"

"Yes."

Caelan looked at him. "And the tenth?"

The masked elf paused. "Yes."

"Then you understand why Arin interests me."

The masked elf looked toward the flames. "The previous ten ended badly."

"Exactly," Caelan said. "They were all consumed. That doesn’t mean Arin will."

"No," the masked elf said. "That’s why I am waiting."

Caelan’s eyes reflected the firelight. "That’s why I am waiting."

The masked elf looked at him. "What happens when you stop waiting?"

Caelan smiled. "Then I will meet him."

The masked elf remained silent as the two figures sat beneath the night sky, surrounded by an endless forest. Far away, Arin slept in the Elf settlement, unaware that someone who had walked beside Caelan for longer than most civilizations had existed was watching him.

The masked man touched the sword at his side. His eyes slowly closed. For a brief moment, a memory returned to him. A battlefield covered in ash. A True Hero standing before an army. A young Dungeon Master apprentice beside him, his hands shaking. And a command that had survived thousands of years, carved into his soul.

Protect him.

The memory disappeared, and the masked man opened his eyes. His gaze turned toward the distant Elf Lands.

"Arin Rahman." He whispered the name. Then he pulled his mask tighter over his face. Whatever his purpose had been all those years ago... it was not finished.