Chapter 0079: Ambushed

Just as everyone was clicking their tongues in amazement at Grimm, a flash of red signaled Mary's return. With a powerful swing, she threw down a shriveled, grimacing human head before the group.

Kevin, though only a senior apprentice, was able to command two quasi-wizards—clearly, he had his own unique methods. Yet even he felt rather awkward amidst the events of the day. As elite apprentices specifically trained by the camp, the six of them, working together, had earned only a single head, while the two newcomers each claimed one on their own. This left even the elite captain inwardly exclaiming at the newcomers’ ferocity!

Of the six fallen apprentices guarding the mine, half had been left behind by them—a feat that was already quite remarkable. However, more than an hour had passed since the fighting began, and there was little time left to scavenge for resources. After all, this was Mine No. 7, deep within the underworld; holding it for long would be difficult. If reinforcements from Extreme City arrived, a new round of deadly pursuit would surely follow.

The ratfolk miners showed no fear at the arrival of Kevin’s group. In fact, the ratfolk queen herself sauntered out, flirting and haggling with them, even offering to waive all fees if any apprentice would spend a night with her, along with a “precious collection” her tribe had amassed over the past year.

But at the sight of her furry little face, rotund figure, and heavy, sagging breasts, all the elite apprentices could not help but feel a wave of revulsion. Each time her beady, glimmering eyes alighted on them, their skin crawled and they fought the urge to retch.

In the end, Kevin paid double—five hundred magic crystals—to acquire twenty-six blood garnets from the ratfolk queen. Each of these stones was the size of a hen’s egg, with an estimated total value of forty-eight hundred crystals. If they managed to bring them back safely, each member of the team would pocket between two to five hundred crystals.

The disparity in profit was tied to each member’s contribution during the mission. Those like Grimm, Mary, and the quasi-wizard who each claimed a head would naturally receive a larger share. After discussing with the two quasi-wizards, Kevin quickly outlined the distribution: three stones to Quasi-Wizard Green, two to Quasi-Wizard Randolph, two to Kevin, two to Grimm, two to Mary, and one to each of the other three senior apprentices. The remaining twelve stones would be turned over to the camp, where Trolk Trading House, backed by Bald Afu, would purchase them in bulk and distribute the proceeds equally among the group.

Each member was free to handle their share as they wished. Surely, the wealthy wizarding families would soon seek them out to negotiate for the blood garnets.

With the mission here concluded, only the matter of returning safely remained.

Experience had shown that the journey back from the mission site to the surface was the most perilous; most casualties occurred during this stage. The cold reality remained: there was no point earning money if you wouldn’t live to spend it.

Traveling together was the worst idea—an ambush would be all but guaranteed. Whether by cunning underworld creatures or fallen apprentices tipped off by rumors, the road back would be fraught with danger.

So, at this point, each went their separate ways, relying on their own skills to return to the surface. If one failed, it was only proof of their own weakness—no one else to blame.

With the spoils divided, they bid each other farewell and scattered. With nearly a hundred passages to the surface, the odds of running into trouble were slim—unless one was truly unlucky.

……

Once the group had dispersed, Mary leapt onto the magic crocodile, her crimson eyes sweeping the surroundings as she called out impatiently, “Let’s get moving! I have a bad feeling about this mission, as if someone is watching us. Be careful on the way back!”

Grimm’s heart skipped a beat, and he frowned deeply.

In this age where will reigned supreme, Grimm never dared ignore any sign of danger. Especially when it came from Mary, whose power stemmed from her mutated ancient bloodline—her understanding of planar laws was far deeper than his own. If even she felt uneasy, then surely something ill was destined to befall them.

Hoisting Mary into the earthen golem, Grimm had the magic crocodile sink silently into the ground.

Using the earth magic of the Crocodile Hunter, Grimm scouted the nearby area, but found no trace of anything suspicious. With the possibility of a trap at Mine No. 7 tentatively ruled out, he could only half-believe Mary’s warning as he set out on the return journey.

Ordinarily, Grimm would have charged through the underground passages, only burrowing through obstacles when necessary to minimize magical expenditure. But with danger looming, he no longer cared for such conservation—he chose instead to travel entirely submerged in the earth, creeping upward without a sound.

With vast stretches of metal ore and hard rock blocking the way, he was forced to constantly change course, making his progress through the soil slow.

Three hours later, with half the journey complete, Grimm finally let himself relax a little.

But just as he was guiding the magic crocodile between two massive rock strata, the creature’s body gliding through the earth like passing through calm water, the magic filling its frame suddenly ran wild.

A trap!

Realizing it instantly, Grimm felt the immense pressure of the earth around the crocodile intensify as its magic spiraled out of control.

Grimm’s face changed drastically. In a panic, he urged the creature toward the nearest underground passage.

It was a deep, pitch-dark corridor, winding and treacherous like the guts of some monstrous beast. Most of the tunnel was hewn between layers of rock, with only a small portion still damp, pitch-black earth. Yet in that moment, the earthen wall began to boil, then burst open with a bang as a hulking form crashed into the tunnel, sending mud and stone flying.

Two human shadows leapt from the massive creature.

“What happened? What’s wrong with your golem?” Mary’s anxious voice rang out in the darkness.

“We’ve been ambushed! There’s a special wizard formation in the area we just passed. It can disrupt the crocodile’s earth magic. We have to get out of here—now!”

Mary blinked in surprise, her crimson eyes gleaming in the dark.

“Which way?”

Grimm’s eyes, hidden behind his goggles, flickered uncertainly as he looked at the equally shadowy passages to both sides, unable to decide.

“Hmph!” Mary snorted. “Let me handle it.”

She straightened, facing one passage, drew a deep breath, and suddenly let out a piercing howl. The sound was so sharp and shrill that Grimm’s mind went blank—he couldn’t hear a thing.

As the strange sound waves rippled rapidly through the tunnel, Mary stood still with eyes closed, as if listening for something.

“The passage is three hundred and twenty-seven meters, winding upward to a small cavern at the end, where—” She paused, her voice suddenly rising in alarm. “Two people! There are two people rushing toward us!”

Grimm’s gaze turned savage.

Two people? And charging so brazenly? No doubt they believed the two of them were as good as dead. Even without seeing them, Grimm was certain—they had to be two quasi-wizard fallen apprentices.

With such thorough preparations, none of the nearby passages were likely to be safe. Grimm dismissed the crocodile hunter, retrieved the two summoning crystals from the collapsing earth, and pulled Mary with him as they dashed down the opposite tunnel.

The floor was as treacherous as ever—damp, slick, and uneven, with jagged stones jutting up at odd angles, making progress difficult for someone like Grimm with agility below five. Even walking cautiously here risked slipping, let alone running flat out.

But the ground was not the only hazard—the ceiling was just as dangerous. Stalactites, thick and thin, hung down in their path, ready to impale anyone who forgot to watch above.

At first, Grimm pulled Mary along, but after less than ten meters, Mary had to sling his arm over her shoulder and carry him forward at speed.

Cold, damp air rushed past, pouring into Grimm’s lungs and chilling him to the very marrow, yet his mind was never clearer. Under the faint glow of his vision, the dark tunnel flew beneath their feet. Stalactites loomed, rapidly swelling before his eyes, only to whistle past at the last instant.

Mary now moved like a ghost in the darkness—her nimble feet barely tapping each stone, carrying them both through the air at blinding speed. Every stalactite and narrow gap was a clear path to her; with the lightest touch she slipped through, silent and swift.

Mary might be used to such speeds, but with his low agility, Grimm found it more exhilarating—and terrifying—than any wild ride. If not for the rush of wind pressing against his throat, he might have vomited already.

As they raced through the inky depths, the tunnel suddenly narrowed, squeezing down until only one person could pass at a time. At the tightest point, a net of lightning appeared, blocking the way.

The crackling web of electricity sealed the tunnel from floor to ceiling, arcs sparking blindingly where it touched the rock.

The sizzle and pop of the current was unmistakable.

There was no way forward!