After their brief conversation, the ghost decides to personally guide you to meet Mammon. It chatters away the entire way, explaining this world's rules to its unexpected visitor.
We all came here carrying too many regrets. To make our wishes come true, we willingly sold our souls to Mammon in exchange for the right to stay here forever.
Take me, for instance. I used to be an architect, but spent my whole life building nothing but cafeterias and bathrooms. Only after coming here did I finally get to experience what it's like being the one in charge!
As he talks, he shifts his head through various forms—clocks, vases, even locomotive engines. The chimney sprouting from his neck even releases real smoke.
What about you, stranger? What is your wish?
Oh, come on, don't be so dull! Everyone's got regrets in life.
This time, he shifts his head into a large clock. It's a brass pendulum that swings endlessly inside its transparent glass case, ticking away with every word he speaks.
Come on, tell me. I won't laugh at you.
The wildly swinging pendulum suddenly stops dead.
...Wait, stranger. I might actually be able to help you!
With a loud pop, his head transforms into a magnifying glass, and he leans in close, as if trying to peer into the very depths of your soul.
Have you ever heard of an Inner World? If you just sit still and meditate, this realm will manifest your heart's deepest desires as a real, tangible place.
Some people's Inner World is a casino, others a library, or a movie theater... You can see their deepest desires reflected to an extent in these places.
If you really can't remember anything from your past, then give this a shot! I think this might be your best bet.
Under the magnifying glass's intense scrutiny, you quietly close your eyes and begin to meditate on your brief "existence."
You begin to awaken from a devastating flood, and searing flames tear through chaos, lifting you from the depths of the abyss.
Then, from the flowing waters, you grasp an iron lance. The metal that should be cold burns with such fierce heat that it threatens to scorch your flesh.
The instant you grip the lance, a phrase both strange and familiar crashes into your consciousness.
Blood Covenant
Through this, you remember your identity, your mission...
...and that name buried in the depths of memory, one that follows you like a shadow even when forgotten—
Gray Raven.
The moment your eyes open, countless bright, delicate petals drift through the air.
That memory transports everyone present into a vast sea of flowers.
Fresh fragrance drifts through the air, evoking early summer after rain. Dew glints as the soft and pale morning light breaks.
Vibrant flowers bloom in wild abundance among the branches, their colors dancing together, while towering canopies block out the sky above. This space transcends the limits of season and latitude. Every plant species from across the Scorched Borderland has miraculously gathered here in one place.
You take a step forward and hear a shocked gasp from behind.
...No, that's impossible! Illusions shouldn't be able to create living things!
These flowers, this grass, all these trees. Where did they come from?
The ghost trails behind, his form dissolving back into shapeless shadow after being stunned by the impossible wonder he's witnessed.
...Well, stranger, I may not understand how any of this works, but I'll give you this—you really are one hell of a selfless "saint."
He settles onto the ground and plucks a wildflower, turning it over in his hands with careful attention, his voice thick with nostalgia.
Everyone else wishes to fix the regrets from their life, but what about you? Admiring flowers and grass?
I can't figure you out, but I have to admit that you're almost too pure for your own good.
The ghost tosses the flower aside and drifts toward the shimmering lake, where his wavering shadow is reflected in the still water below.
I love this place. If you weren't in such a rush to keep moving, I could spend centuries here.
But in this moment, your mind wanders to a different "scene" you witnessed not long ago.
Snow?
The dark figure seems to shake his head within the shimmering halo of light cast by the lake's surface.
I haven't encountered one myself, but if that kind of "scene" really exists...
Then that person must be pretty lonely.
The talkative ghost guides you and the raven to another grand hall. Much like the spiral graveyard you left behind, this place radiates the same oppressive stillness. Towering architecture with extravagant design completely lacks any traces of life.
Every corner of the hall is crammed with bizarre trinkets—windmills, floral hair clips, and oddly-shaped paper cranes. Whoever rules this place clearly has a serious hoarding problem.
"Mammon"! News, big news! We've got a human who fell right into our realm and has absolutely no clue how things work around here!
Hemmed in by countless trinkets, the figure on the throne slowly lifts its head. But those tired eyes look past you entirely, fixing instead on Morigan perched on your shoulder.
Morigan... Why are you here?
Caw, long story short. The new Mammon tossed us in here.
After you hid yourself up in this godforsaken realm, the Scorched Borderland went into chaos. Even the Cardinal Deity got kicked off his throne, but since the Golden Law has its claws in every mineral deposit on the planet, Mammon coins are still functional.
Eventually, Sanctuary got fed up with the whole mess and decided to seize both the City of No Return and the coin-forging furnaces. They manipulated some young girl to do their dirty work, but she turned the tables on them, killed Raphael, and claimed your throne as the new Mammon.
Ah, I see... So the City of No Return has found itself a new ruler as well...
Yep, and here's the cherry on top. Your physical body kicked the bucket completely! So thoroughly gone it didn't even need a funeral!
But the law's influence will eventually force the new Mammon to make the same choice I did.
You can't understand the cryptic exchanges between them and have no choice but to interrupt.
Ancient history from centuries ago. It's nothing worth noting.
I get the gist of what's happening. You're here looking for a way out of this realm, right?
The elegant host raises a hand with a gentle flourish, and a steaming pot of fragrant herbal tea appears on the table alongside a plate of gleaming millet seeds.
Please, sit down. Let's talk while we have some tea.
Noticing you aren't moving, the raven swoops closer and hungrily pecks at the millet scattered on the plate.
Don't worry! Munch, munch... Everything I create in this realm is absolutely top-notch, except I can't make anything with a soul, of course!
But the thrill of getting everything for nothing is too intoxicating. Once you've had your desires endlessly satisfied in this realm, no one can find the strength to leave on their own.
The elegant, purple-haired beauty snaps their fingers, and tens of thousands of paper cranes suddenly fall, carpeting the entire hall in a dense, fluttering blanket.
The paper cranes pour down like heavy rain, steady and relentless, accumulating until Morigan nearly drowns beneath the mounting pile. The host waves her hand again, and every last white trinket vanishes without a trace.
Don't worry. Anyone who leaves this realm through their own willpower can never return here again, whether they try to or get dragged in against their will.
Despite their host's sincere tone, you can't shake the feeling that this Former Mammon has an ulterior motive, and that all this hospitality is leading somewhere.
Sure enough, the former Golden King shows their cards with the very next words.
I can tell you how to escape, but I also need you to do something for me.
Stop her... That sounds nice. If only someone had been there to pull me back all those years ago, maybe I never would have chosen this place.
The figure on the throne lets out a weary sigh, palm pressed against her temple.
What I need you to do is... to help me "kill" Mammon.
Kill?
The raven stops mid-feast, its beak frozen in shock.
"Kill" isn't the right word. What I need is for you to help me destroy the Seat of Mammon in the City of No Return, forever.
After dropping such a bombshell, the former Demon Lord remains utterly composed, offering nothing more than a slight nod.
After spending an eternity here, I've reached one conclusion. The City of No Return and the Golden Law are both utterly meaningless.
That bottled city does nothing but endlessly churn out new sacrifices for the Law Nexus. It's a never-ending tragedy for whoever sits on this throne and for all three realms.
We're... nothing but ghosts clinging to this golden prison.
Our real selves perished in the world beyond long ago. What remains here are just stubborn obsessions too proud to let go.
That explains everything. So that's why every "person" we've seen here is just a faceless shadow drifting through the air.
I'm very tired. I sacrificed my entire life to serve as the Law Nexus. Now that I'm dead, I want to choose my own fate, just this once.
And as long as human greed endures, this illusion will never truly die. It'll simply reset itself after a brief pause and carry on forever.
The former Golden King's voice carries such quiet resignation that it's obvious this isn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. She has been planned for ages, waiting for someone worthy to carry it out.
"Mammon" gestures toward the center of her collarbone, where a crystal core gleams with an eerie, otherworldly radiance.
Unlike the soft gold of angelic cores, a devil's heart burns deep crimson, like a pool of blood frozen in time, set against pale skin.
...Come closer, child of man. Approach my throne.
After you are done, you and the raven start heading back. The moment you leave the throne room, you bump into that same nameless, upbeat ghost.
So? After your chat with "Mammon," you must know how perfect this world is, right? From now on, let's all get along and live the good life together!
Hey now, don't look so glum! Sure, you don't remember your past, but from today forward, every single day will be a fresh start!
The ghost rambles on, lost in its own words, strutting smugly through the spiral graveyard it created with pride.
You can start today. Think about what you want to achieve and what dreams you want to fulfill. We have all the time in the world and endless resources at our fingertips. Why not stay...?
You feel compelled to cut short this invitation.
...
For the first time, the cheerful ghost doesn't immediately jump back into the conversation.
This world has no wind, no flowing water, no chirping insects. The moment everyone stops talking, all that's left is an unbearable, suffocating silence.
After what feels like an eternity of silence, the ghost turns its head away and tosses off a casual response.
I don't remember. But does it really matter in a place like this?
After leaving the seemingly endless graveyard and crossing several barren wastelands, you follow the former Mammon's directions and continue climbing up a mountain made entirely of gold and silver.
This mountain of pure luxury and jewels offers barely any solid footing. One wrong step and you'll be sliding down a pile of precious stones. You struggle with every step, while Morigan has completely given up, flopping over and sprawling in the bag with its legs in the air.
What kind of sick joke is this?! We worked so hard to get all the way up here, and we can't even take a single coin!
And then they put the damn exit at the very top of the treasure mountain! You have to climb all the way up just to escape! That bastard who dreamed up this sick game was pure evil. It's nothing but torture!
Ever since we left that damn hall, I've completely given up. I feel like I haven't eaten in forever, so I can't do any real work right now. Ouch!
You suddenly lose footing on the treasure mountain, sending the raven in the bag crying out in pain.
Ouch! What the hell are you—!
Morigan angrily pokes its head out of the bag to give you a piece of its mind, but the sight before you leaves it absolutely thunderstruck.
Whoa, whoa, hold up. This has gotta be some kind of joke! There's no way I'm going in there...
You and the raven both look up to see a colossal maw several stories tall, gaping open in the void above the treasure mountain's peak. Chunks of flesh dangle from its filthy yellow fangs, as if it had just finished gnawing on some fresh prey.
Fine, you go first and I'll follow behind you, ouch, ouch! Quit grabbing my feathers!
You don't give Morigan a chance to think. You scoop it up and plunge headfirst into the monstrous maw.
A long-haired woman leans back on her throne, picking up a gold coin from the floor and studying the relief patterns etched into its surface, the same patterns she remembers since the day she was born.
Every Mammon coin is identical. It is nearly impossible to counterfeit, yet endlessly churned out from the City of No Return. Since the Three Great Laws were established, they've served as the Scorched Borderland's sole token of trade.
But she'd never realized that Mammon coin production operates beyond anyone's control. The coins simply follow the Golden Law's programming, endlessly popping out of the furnace one after another.
The truth turns out to be far more boring than she'd ever imagined.
Sigh... So what should I do now?
Maybe I should clean up this City of No Return a bit?
No living soul responds to her. Only the furnace flames continue to flicker silently through the empty city.
The woman rises from her throne and is about to step down when something catches her eye. It's a pitch-black feather lying in the corner.
It's a sleek tail feather that gleams on the floor, catching the firelight with its silky, lustrous surface. She'd recognize the owner of this feather anywhere.
A smile tugs at her lips, that familiar expression returning to her face. She knows her Bloodsworn would never settle for being trapped in some illusion.
...So you're back, Gray Raven.
The words barely leave her lips when a blood bullet streaks from the shadows behind her, aimed straight for her crown. "Mammon" raises her hand with casual ease, plucking the bullet from the air and crushing it in her palm until it melts back into blood.
The figure in the gray-black cloak steps out of the shadows, abandoning all pretense of concealment as they emerge from behind the wall with a pistol.
I like your straightforward approach, but every deal needs equal stakes from both sides.
Gray Raven, I'm willing to put everything I've ever worked for on the line...
And you, tell me, what do you have to offer me?
Joy surges through her as a dormant thrill shivers down her spine. She thought her days of dancing on the razor's edge between triumph and death were over, but here they are, chasing her down and dragging her back into fate's deadly game.
So she's ready to roll the dice one last time and bet it all on this ultimate game.
...What a tempting offer. You know me so well.
She lets out a satisfied sigh.
Even if you'll probably never truly understand what this bet means to me...
But I'll still honor your terms.
The Golden King raises her hand, and a Moon Umbrella wrought from pure magic materializes in her grasp. Both parties agree, and the wager is sealed.
Torrents of magical energy surge through the bottled city, sending countless gold coins scattered across the floor spiraling upward in a brilliant whirlwind that engulfs both you and the silver-haired devil.
She floats in midair, gliding forward toward you, and raises her umbrella to point directly at her opponent.
Then let's begin... our final wager.
