Chapter 22: The Knight and the Truth

We all left the room, setting our sights on finding the boss of this place.

Still no sign of Jarrod. I had no idea if he was even here.

But my thoughts kept drifting back to Adrian.

Was I just being paranoid? Jumping to conclusions?
Because everything I’d been noticing… the signs…
They were pointing to something. Something that said he might not be on our side.

Could he be working with Niobeorth…?

As we walked, I discreetly activated my glitching abilities.

Back in Onlife, I used this trick constantly, hacking into the framework of the world around me, peeling back the layers of code, gathering information about objects, environments, and even people. It wasn’t just data scraping, it was practical, hands-on exploitation of the system. My way of gaining an edge.

Now, even here, in this twisted version of reality, those skills still applied, because the pods we used to enter Ashalondaria didn’t just bring us here… they blended the virtual with the real.

My Dangatana is proof of that. A weapon I forged in Onlife’s sandbox system that now manifests physically in this world.

So, as I glitched my HUD, I wasn’t just scanning the area, I was breaching the seams of Ashalondaria’s reality.

In fantasy games, there’s always lore. Always a history. Every named NPC has backstory data embedded in the game files, whether from the developers themselves or reconstructed by obsessed fans on some wiki page.

If I could crack through Ashalondaria’s source… maybe I could do the same here.

It was a long shot. Alchemy & Alloy Online has only been out for a few days. But if Takayuki really linked this world to Onlife’s system framework, then maybe, just maybe, I could still cheat the system.

Violations back in Onlife usually got me slapped with a warning or a suspension from the devs.

Here? Who knows what could happen.

Still… I had to try.

My HUD began shifting, distorting slightly as my glitching took hold. Lines of unfamiliar code bled into the edges of my vision.

It was harder than usual, way harder.

This system resisted me. It pushed back.
But I didn’t stop.

And then, I broke through.

A flood of data poured in. Names. Titles. Abilities. Biographies. History.

Everyone, from Katarina to the Queen herself. Every named figure in Ashalondaria was now indexed in my HUD.

Then I went straight to Adrian’s file.

SIR ADRIAN IZYASLAVICH
A knight of noble blood and unwavering will, hailing from the land of Mondunion.
Engaged to his second-in-command and beloved, the Princess-Knight Alina Ethelflaed, sole surviving daughter of King Leopold and Queen Isadora.

Adrian served as captain of the Eastern Division, vowing loyalty to the Crown and the Sacred Code of Mondunion: Honor, Justice, and Freedom.
His legend was known in every kingdom. His sword never wavered.
Until the rise of the Dark Lord Niobeorth, the Raven King.

In the final war, Adrian stood his ground against the encroaching shadow…until…...

[FILE ENDS HERE.]

My HUD glitched.

New data began to appear… and then—
[DATA REDACTED]
[ACCESS DENIED]
[OVERRIDE DETECTED]

And just like that… all of it vanished.

Wiped clean. Gone.

I stared at the empty screen, heart racing.

Something happened to him, but what?. The file was about to tell me what really happened. I could feel it, something was off.

Niobeorth’s reach… it even corrupts this.

The only confirmed line left was the one that said Adrian fought for honor.

But my gut told me, there was more.

Much more.

And someone doesn’t want me to know.

While walking, we stumbled upon a group of surviving players gathered around a sealed door. They were clearly trying to force it open, desperate and worn down.

As we approached, my eyes locked onto someone I immediately recognized.

Jill.

The model. Aster’s boyfriend.
The same Jill I loathed with every fiber of my being.

The moment he spotted Aster, he ran to her, relieved, overwhelmed, like some drama-struck lover in a romance film.

But Aster slapped him.
Hard.

The sound cut through the air like a whip.
None of us commented. We turned our focus back to the more important issue. Let the two of them hash out whatever mess they were tangled in.

The other players, meanwhile, looked at us with wide, exhausted eyes, like prisoners watching the front door open to a SWAT team.
Relief. Hope. Like someone had finally shown up to pull them out of hell.

I turned my attention to the two figures flanking the entrance.
They looked like villagers, clearly forced into a script, acting like NPCs. No reaction to anything happening around them. Just… placeholders.

Just like that kid back in the Dungeon of Bones.

I activated my glitching ability.

And like snapping a finger, the villagers broke character. Their vacant expressions collapsed into raw panic, eyes wide, breathing erratic.
They weren’t NPCs. They were real people, trapped in a system that turned them into puppets.

I quickly checked my mini-map.

There it was.

A glowing purple skull with devil horns on the other side of the door.
The exact same icon from the Dungeon of Bones.

They weren’t opening an exit.
They were trying to break into a death trap.

I turned to one of the players. "Why are you trying to open that door?"

He hesitated before answering. "We thought it was the way out."

Of course they did.

Then I asked, "Are any of you willing to fight with us?"

They avoided my gaze. Said nothing. Just shuffled in silence.

They didn’t want to risk their lives. And honestly? I couldn’t blame them.
No one wants to die.

But I doubted they even knew the truth, that dying here meant dying for real.
More likely, they were terrified of the pain. Of the hunger. Of being trapped in this nightmare with no end. They probably hadn’t eaten in days. Just surviving had drained everything they had left.

While I thought about the creature that might be waiting for us behind that door, I heard something behind me.

Aster and Jill.

Fighting.

Their voices were rising. The tension between them wasn’t fading, it was building toward something ugly.

And I had a feeling it was about to explode.
Aster’s voice cracked, her fists clenched at her sides.

"You left us."

Her words cut through the murmur of the other players, slicing through the air like glass.

"You left me, Jill. You left Thor behind. You let our friends die."

Jill flinched but didn’t back down. His posture stayed smug, like he was more annoyed than remorseful. That infuriating calm arrogance, the same face he made in every modeling photo, was still plastered on him like a mask.

"I did what I had to," he said, voice slick and defensive. "I survived."

"You abandoned us!" Aster’s voice trembled now. "We trusted you—Thor trusted you! He almost died because of you!"

"Yeah?" Jill snapped back, suddenly raising his voice. "Maybe if you hadn’t been too busy clinging to Jack, you would’ve seen what I was doing for you!"

She recoiled. "What does Jack have to do with this?"

That’s when his mask cracked. Something bitter twisted across Jill’s expression, raw, entitled rage.

"You think I didn’t see it?" he sneered. "Back then, when we were just a bunch of nobodies trying to climb out of the gutter—before you became her—the beautiful Aster Joyce, the [BEEP]ing fantasy girl everyone wanted."

He stepped closer. She didn’t flinch.

"I loved you before all that. Before the cameras. Before you even noticed how many people stared when you walked into a room."

Her jaw clenched. "Don’t you dare."

"I was there first!" he shouted. "And then he swooped in. Jack, with his half-broken smile and his savior complex. And you chose him."

"You were my friend," she said, tears starting to form. "You were supposed to support me—not sabotage everything."

And then he said it.

"I wrote the breakup text."

Aster froze.

"What?"

Jill’s voice lowered, venomous now. "That night Jack left his phone at the bar. You were supposed to meet him. He never showed up, right? That text saying he never loved you, that he just used you for attention? I wrote it."

The air was dead silent.

"I made you leave him," he said. "Because I couldn’t stand watching you throw yourself at someone who never deserved you."

"You…" Her voice cracked. "You—you did that?"

"Yeah. And guess what?" Jill scoffed, shrugging. "It worked. You came crawling back. Eventually."

Aster shook her head, her face twisted in disbelief. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I defended you. I loved you. And all this time… you were just—"

Before she could finish, she stepped forward and punched him.

A clean, brutal strike to the side of his face.

Jill stumbled back, caught off guard, but said nothing. He held his cheek, looking stunned for the first time since they’d arrived.

Without another word, he turned and ran.

Coward.

Aster collapsed to her knees, her sobs breaking through the noise around us. She didn’t care who was watching anymore. Rage and heartbreak poured out of her like she was suffocating from the inside.

I stood frozen. At least I know it wasn’t my fault.

No one said anything.

And then—
A scream echoed through the corridor.

Jill.

Shrill, distant, and filled with terror.

We all turned toward the sound. A chill ran down my spine.

Something had found him.