Chapter 0050: Journey Beneath the Earth

In the dim and shadowy underground tunnel, all was silent and still.

There were never true roads in the underworld—only labyrinthine fissures in the stone and channels carved by millennia of water. Yet, through countless generations of subterranean creatures digging and tunneling, dens and caverns, both grand and small, were eventually linked by an intricate web of passageways. These became the bewildering, interconnected arteries of the underground world.

Here, one would never find the straight roads of the surface. Every path twisted and wound, hewing to ancient cracks in the rock or the courses of old waterways. Sometimes, two caverns might be separated by only ten meters of dense stone, but the only route between them would spiral in darkness for dozens of li before finally arriving.

From the roof of the caverns, innumerable stalactites hung down. On the ground, tooth-like projections jutted up. Droplets of water fell from the rocks, trickling across a floor slick with slippery lichens.

To be honest, traversing such a closed and silent environment could easily conjure the terror that, at any moment, the hundreds of tons of earth and stone above might come crashing down to bury you alive.

Grimm and his party of ten moved in a long, slow line, their way lit only by flickering torches as they made their way through the subterranean tunnels.

The torchlight barely illuminated a space of five meters. From cracks hidden in the walls, gusts of chill wind would occasionally sweep through. The uncertain glow cast their shadows wildly across the rock, transforming them into monstrous, contorted demons.

Though they did their utmost to move in silence, the soft shuffle of footsteps and the scrape of bodies brushing against stone echoed far and wide through the gloomy tunnels. This would inevitably bring unforeseen hazards to their journey.

After three straight hours of trekking, they finally reached the first rest stop on their patrol route.

In truth, those first three hours were little more than a preliminary trial before they entered the true darkness of the underworld. From here, their real mission began.

“Well, it’s time for us to part ways. Let’s all try to finish our tasks quickly and meet back here. I wish you all a smooth journey!” Sabrina’s clear voice sounded muffled in the stifling cave.

Ten apprentice sorcerers, five teams, each heading to different regions to complete their assignments. The deepest objective fell to Sabrina and Sheila’s team. No one objected to Sabrina volunteering for the most dangerous task; it was only natural that she assumed the lead.

As for Mary and Grimm’s duo, though the others felt a pang of resentment, there was nothing for it but to assign them the simplest task. After all, if they sabotaged their own team now for a fleeting sense of satisfaction, next time, eight would have to do the work of ten.

Each wore a thick black robe, shrouding every inch of skin to prevent their breath or body heat from betraying them to the infrared vision of subterranean creatures. After exchanging quiet words of good luck, the five teams melted into the darkness, each setting out for their own goal.

After parting ways, Grimm and Mary had walked less than fifteen minutes through the pitch-black tunnel when Grimm halted.

He listened intently—he could hear no sound from the distance. Only then did he extinguish his torch. As the last flicker of light vanished, a surreal, dreamlike world revealed itself before his eyes.

Glowing moss grew everywhere along the walls, casting a faint, cold light in the deep dark. With his temporary low-light vision, Grimm saw an uncanny landscape. The feeble glow slowly banished the darkness, revealing a world awash in eerie green.

The cavern walls were black and cold, while pools of water shimmered grey. In this strange vision, only swathes of green, gray, and black prevailed. But in the far corners, Grimm could just make out one or two tiny, crawling red dots.

Those red dots signified the leakage of life energy.

Judging by their size, they were probably rock scorpions or geckos—small subterranean creatures.

Grimm glanced aside. Mary, in her customary red gauze dress, exposed swathes of pale skin. Yet, strangely, even though he was a mere three steps from her, Grimm could not detect the slightest trace of body heat. Through infrared vision, she was indistinguishable from a human-shaped stalagmite.

So be it—the means of a vampire were truly inscrutable.

With infrared vision, concealed life signs, and preternatural agility, this shadowed underworld was perfectly suited to an assassin like her.

Grimm pulled his hood lower and took the lead, venturing down the winding, uneven path.

Their task lay seven li away, near an underground pool. Along the way, they might pass two or three lairs of subterranean beasts, but the dangers were minor; if they were careful, they would pass unscathed.

…

Despite their formidable sorcery, even Mary, a high-level apprentice, was but a child taking her first steps in this perilous world.

Grimm, thinking himself well-prepared, had not gone a hundred meters before facing his first ambush beneath the earth.

Yes, an ambush.

A rock python, coiled in a crevice, struck out as Grimm passed, its foul, venomous fangs snapping at his throat.

He was utterly unprepared.

The cold stone had masked the serpent’s life signature. By the time Grimm saw a red spot suddenly expand before him, the python’s venomous maw was already inches from his neck.

Had Grimm possessed more than ten points of agility, he might have reacted in time. But with only four, his reflexes betrayed him. All he could do was shut his eyes in terror and await the bite.

One rock python could not kill him, but pain was inevitable.

A sharp whistle of wind sliced past his ear—Mary, who had been behind him, now flashed before his eyes. Her fingers, sharp as blades, whirled through the air, and in a heartbeat, the python was cut into seven pieces.

A nauseating stench of blood began to seep through the tunnel.

Grimm took several deep breaths, calming his pounding heart and wiping away the cold sweat that had broken out all over. These damned creatures certainly knew how to pick their ambushes.

Though the tunnel was pitch-black, Grimm’s cheeks burned with shame.

He had overestimated himself. Theory was theory; all the travel lore and experience in his mind could not prepare him for the unexpected dangers of real life.

After this mishap, their positions shifted.

Mary, in her crimson dress, now moved soundlessly at the fore. Any beast lurking in concealment was no match for her razor-sharp, almost magical claws. Even a sudden, point-blank attack could not outrun her superhuman agility; she would always strike first, shredding the enemy to pieces.

In just an hour, eleven subterranean creatures had fallen to her hands.

From behind, Grimm could hear the distant snarls of beasts fighting over the remains—it seemed a minor war was brewing. In the underworld, unnecessary noise or a bleeding wound could spell disaster, attracting greater and more savage monsters.

While neither Mary nor Grimm feared such small fry, they were still an unwanted nuisance.

Their first true trouble came in the seventh hour underground, when a pack of eleven raptor fiends attacked.

These creatures, common throughout the underworld, resembled small, scaly dinosaurs, barely two meters tall when upright. Though not large, their bones were thick, their bodies clad in armored scales. Their gaping maws were lined with two rows of thick, gleaming fangs, and sticky drool dripped ceaselessly as they eyed their next meal.

Unlike the smaller creatures who relied on stealth, the raptor fiends waited until Grimm and Mary were surrounded before advancing, their heavy steps emerging from the darkness. Before their bodies appeared, Grimm first saw pairs of dim, yellow-brown eyes glinting in the gloom.

Such armored beasts were troublesome—Mary’s claws could hardly penetrate their dense scales unless she struck at weak points like armpits, eye sockets, or the juncture of head and neck. Meanwhile, the fiends’ slender, razor-sharp forelimbs threatened her with grave injury.

Coupled with their massive bulk and the earth creatures’ paralyzing effect, most apprentice sorcerers would find it hard to escape unscathed from such a confined space.

Grimm shook his head with a wry smile, pulled out two summoning crystals, and tossed them onto the dirt.

Though most tunnels were carved through solid stone to prevent collapse, soil and gravel were still common enough for Grimm’s earth golems to shape themselves.

A soundless roar reverberated as the Crocodile Hunter slowly emerged at Grimm’s side.

“Well, well, you’ve been hiding something!” Mary’s voice sounded from the darkness.

With her seventeen points of agility, Mary could have easily escaped the raptor fiends’ encirclement in five seconds flat—if not for Grimm’s “dragging her down.” After a few fruitless swipes at the fiends, she gave up and slipped back to Grimm’s side, eyeing the puppet with curiosity.

This… seemed different from the last one she’d seen! Was this mud crocodile a new puppet, crafted after he slew the Swamp Crocodile King? Perhaps this boy wasn’t as weak as she’d thought after all.

Lost in thought, Mary watched as Grimm climbed onto the puppet’s back and seated himself. With a low rumble, the mud crocodile twisted its massive body and rolled forward, crushing its way toward the encircling raptor fiends.