Chapter 84: Underground
Kaz returned to the passageway.
His slightly hunched figure looked even smaller in contrast to the massive Wizard Tower.
Saul looked up.
The dark gray Wizard Tower stood tall before him.
The lower half of the tower’s body had only walls, with no windows, making it impossible for Saul to estimate how many floors the tower had. However, he could tell that it was no shorter than the skyscrapers from his previous life.
Majestic and imposing.
The marks of time and weather only added to its air of mystery and depth.
But for the apprentices who couldn’t leave the tower freely, this place felt more like a prison.
Watching Kaz leave, Saul quickly pushed away any sentimental thoughts.
He rubbed his hands together, drooling as he approached those lovely, credit-worthy companion flowers.
Even if he didn’t pick one that bore white fruit, it didn’t matter. Whether blue or red, they were all useful—he wouldn’t mind any of them.
He walked along the edge of the field, searching for a flower bud that he felt a connection with.
Soon, he found one with excellent form.
Its stem stood firm, and its bud was full—brimming with vitality.
What’s more, when Saul approached, the flower noticeably moved, leaning toward him.
That settled it. This was the one.
He memorized its location and appearance, then turned toward the wooden hut.
As he walked, he felt a strange sensation at his ankle, as if something was rubbing against him.
He looked down. A thin, black, vine-like tendril extended from the ground.
It was smooth and soft, making it hard to tell if it was plant or animal.
The more he looked at it, the more familiar it seemed.
Then, in a flash of realization, he remembered—wasn’t this the same black tendril he had seen in Mentor Rum’s room, emerging from that swamp?
Although this one was much smaller, its appearance was nearly identical!
So, that tendril had been real after all!
Then what about the black swamp—was it real too? Was this peaceful, beautiful garden truly built on solid ground?
Recalling the scene of a corpse being dragged into the depths by those tendrils, Saul’s scalp tingled with fear. The odd sensation on his leg now felt like a wriggling caterpillar trying to burrow into his pant leg.
Panicked, he sprinted toward the hut, hoping the gardener could help.
Through the window, he saw the gardener sitting inside with his back to him.
His arms seemed stiff, held in an awkward posture.
“Gar—” Saul felt something coil around his ankle again and hurriedly called for help.
But before he could finish the word, a massive black tendril as thick as a thigh suddenly appeared, wrapped around his left arm, and yanked him into the ground.
The earth, which had seemed firm just moments ago, softened like mud and swallowed him whole.
---
Loose soil and small rocks rushed toward Saul’s face as he fell.
No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t stop his descent.
In the end, he gave up resisting, closed his eyes, and extended his senses.
At the same time, he began chanting the spell Scorching Breath, ready to strike as soon as the creature revealed itself.
Then, the pressure around him suddenly disappeared.
With a loud plop, Saul landed in a pit of mud.
The black tendril around his arm vanished.
Yet, the attack he had prepared for did not come.
Saul pushed himself up from the muck and wiped his face with his muddy hands.
“Pfft! Ptui!”
Because he had to open his mouth to chant, his mouth was now full of disgusting mud.
He forced his eyes open.
Total darkness.
He couldn’t see his own hands in front of his face.
The hole above him seemed to be sealed; no sunlight filtered through.
Saul fumbled around but couldn’t feel anything around him.
Beneath his feet was nothing but mud, and he could hear things moving beneath the surface.
Something slick and wet slithered past his ankle, making him recoil in alarm, nearly falling back into the sludge.
In the darkness, every sound and sensation felt magnified.
The unknown was terrifying.
Saul forced himself to stay calm and tried using meditation to observe his surroundings.
To his surprise, however, his semi-immersive meditation—which usually allowed him to sense hidden threats—detected nothing.
No spirits, no eerie presences.
It was unnervingly clean.
Then, something moved beneath his foot again.
A chill ran down his spine. He immediately stepped back.
As he swung his arm backward, his hand brushed against something hard.
It was a stone platform, slightly raised above the mud.
Damp, but definitely preferable to standing in the sludge.
With a push of his hands, Saul climbed onto the platform, avoiding whatever lurked below.
"Hiss!"
"Hiss!"
"Hiss!"
"Hiss!"
The moment he stepped onto the platform, torches at its four corners ignited, illuminating the underground space.
The ceiling was at least three meters above him.
Looking up at it now, Saul realized how lucky he had been—without the mud and tendrils cushioning his fall, he could have been seriously injured.
The earth above seemed to be held up by some force. Aside from a few small rocks and bits of dirt, nothing else had fallen in with him.
The newly revealed space was wide and open. Apart from the stone platform, the surrounding area was nothing but dark gray sludge.
Every so often, black, vine-like tendrils wriggled and slithered through the muck.
Besides the lack of corpses, the scene was eerily similar to what Saul had seen in Mentor Rum’s room.
The black tendrils in the sludge didn’t seem hostile. Aside from brushing against his limbs earlier, they hadn’t actually attacked.
Still, why had they dragged him down here in the first place?
"Ugh… this mud got into my collar. So gross. My next spell has to be Cleanse and Refresh."
Saul took off his outer robe and, avoiding the mud on it, used a slightly cleaner part to wipe his face.
"Actually, I should probably learn Light Spell first. If I end up in a dark place again, I’ll be completely blind."
The presence of the torches reassured him—this space belonged to the Wizard Tower.
Judging by the dust and moss on the platform, however, it had been abandoned for a long time.
Finally, Saul examined the platform itself.
It was a square, about five meters on each side, with two workbenches in the center.
Broken tools and shattered glassware littered their surfaces.
Between the workbenches, Saul noticed a recessed area in the stone floor.
He estimated that an average-sized adult could lie down in it.
"Someone must have conducted experiments here. But for some reason, this place was abandoned."
His footprints, outlined in mud, disrupted the platform’s layer of moss.
Saul walked around the edge of the platform.
Beyond the torchlight, there seemed to be solid ground, but no clear exit.
"Moving around down here feels too risky," Saul thought, looking up. "Maybe I should try climbing out instead."
He approached one of the workbenches and gave it a push.
It was heavy, but manageable.
Standing on it, he still couldn’t reach the ceiling.
If he stacked both benches, though, he might be able to grab onto the dirt above.
Hopefully, there was something up there he could use to climb out—or at least a way to call for help.
As he began dragging one of the tables, a sharp screech echoed through the chamber.
The table’s legs scraped against the stone, leaving black marks.
A moment later, the surrounding sludge started bubbling.
Saul froze.
One by one, black tendrils emerged, twisting toward the platform.
They seemed to be held back by some unseen force, unable to extend onto the stone.
Then—
Plop!
Something landed on Saul’s left shoulder.
A second later, something cool and slimy slithered down his cheek.
His hands, gripping the table, went rigid.
Slowly, his eyes drifted left.
A wriggling, seaweed-like mass clung to his shoulder.
No… not seaweed.
It had no teeth, only thin, black tendrils.
A miniature version of the things lurking in the mud.
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