Chapter 85: Live Up to Your Name
The little seaweed-like creature landed on Saul’s left shoulder, its tiny tendrils stretching upward, twisting and trembling as if having a seizure.
“What is this thing?”
As Saul muttered to himself, the diary, which had been quietly floating on his left shoulder, smoothly flew in front of him.
[New Moon Calendar, Year 314, August 26, Clear Skies]
It seems you’ve discovered a secret space beneath the wizard tower.
Who knows how many hidden secrets lie buried here?
Beneath your feet is a Soul-Devouring Magic Swamp that has existed for an unknown length of time.
And now, the swamp’s core consciousness is dancing on your shoulder.
Clearly, it really likes you.
It likes you so much… that it wants to keep you here forever.
Soul-Devouring Magic Swamp? Core consciousness?
Diary, diary, you're going beyond my understanding again. Do you realize that?
“This little seaweed bundle likes me?” Saul murmured.
Just then, the small seaweed-like creature suddenly leaped off Saul’s left shoulder, aiming straight at the diary floating in front of him!
Whoosh!
The little seaweed bundle missed its target and tumbled over the edge of the platform, falling into the swamp below.
Saul: “……”
“Diary, are you sure this core consciousness likes me and not you?”
The diary ignored Saul and floated back onto his left shoulder.
But its previous actions made Saul wary.
Did that seaweed creature actually sense the diary’s presence?
Otherwise, why would it keep lunging toward wherever the diary was?
“This place is called the Soul-Devouring Magic Swamp, so its essence shouldn’t be that little seaweed bundle, but rather this entire swamp. Why can the swamp sense the diary?”
“The Tower Master has never noticed my left shoulder before.”
This realization made Saul tense up.
If anyone, like Sid before, discovered the existence of the diary inside him, Saul would never have a moment’s peace again.
A death prophecy—in this world, that’s an unimaginably powerful ability.
Something worth people risking everything to obtain.
“Did it drag me down here just for the diary?” Saul’s expression darkened.
Suddenly, he wasn’t in a hurry to leave anymore.
He carefully observed the entire swamp, considering ways to destroy it.
Or at least, how to eliminate its core consciousness.
Would Scorching Breath work? If this place is full of corpses, there should be some flammable, explosive gases down there. I need to be careful not to blow myself up.
As Saul was lost in thought, the little seaweed creature climbed back up the platform.
It crawled to Saul’s feet, shook off the mud, and once again coiled its tendrils, preparing to leap onto him.
Saul extended his left hand and threw a punch, aiming to swat it away.
But the moment his fist made contact, the creature spread countless black tendrils, wrapping around his wrist and clinging tightly.
His punch landed on empty air. Adjusting his stance, he attempted another strike, this time aiming to smash the creature against the stone platform.
Yet just as his fist was about to hit, Saul’s movements suddenly froze.
The creature never tried to evade him. Instead, it rubbed itself affectionately against his left hand, as if it liked his left hand just as much as it liked him.
Saul frowned and lifted his hand, staring at his own fist, now resembling a glove of black tendrils.
Is this thing really sensing the diary?
The Death Wizard’s Diary—its origin unknown, but its power undoubtedly immense. Saul estimated it was at least at the level of a Level 3 Wizard.
Golza, the Tower Master, was a seasoned Level 2 wizard. A creature beyond Level 3 shouldn’t exist beneath his wizard tower.
Besides, this Soul-Devouring Magic Swamp seemed like a garbage dump, a place for disposing of corpses and lingering souls…
Lingering souls?
Saul glanced at his left hand. The diary had once indicated that this hand could temporarily store fragments of souls.
Could it be that the seaweed creature was actually attracted to the lingering souls in his hand?
So when it lunged at the diary, was it sensing the soul fragments within it?
After all, when Sid was electrocuted to death in the interrogation chair, a shadowy remnant of his soul had been absorbed into the diary.
That black soul fragment must have been a particularly special piece—otherwise, the diary wouldn’t have taken it in.
But that fragment had already vanished.
What exactly had the seaweed creature detected?
While Saul pondered, the little seaweed bundle continued rubbing against his hand.
“…Are you done yet?”
Annoyed, Saul tried peeling it off.
But the creature clung stubbornly, wrapping itself around his wrist no matter how he pulled.
Exasperated, Saul finally gave up.
“Fine. Do you actually want to leave here with me?”
The moment he spoke, the seaweed creature suddenly froze.
It didn’t let go, but it also stopped moving.
“…So do you want to come with me or not?”
Now genuinely curious, Saul started teasing it instead.
Suddenly—
Gurgle… Gurgle… Pop! Gurgle… Pop!
The swamp around the platform erupted into chaos. Massive bubbles burst open, and thick, black tendrils as thick as thighs shot out from the sludge.
They lashed toward the platform but hesitated at its edges, unable to cross over.
Whoosh!
Smack!
The tendrils struck the swamp violently, as if trying to rip Saul to shreds.
Saul immediately realized his mistake.
He pried the seaweed creature off his arm and held it up.
“I never actually said I’d take you with me. If this is making everyone so upset, why don’t you just stay here?”
The creature hesitated for a moment, then slowly slithered to the platform’s edge before leaping back into the swamp.
It moved like a reluctant child being dragged home by its parents.
But even after the creature left, the swamp remained restless.
Its massive tendrils pounded the surface furiously.
Then, something even more terrifying emerged—
Dozens of pale, human faces surfaced in the sludge.
Their twisted expressions glared at Saul, mouths opening and closing silently, as if pleading, as if cursing.
Though no sound reached his ears, a high-pitched ringing invaded his skull.
Even covering his ears didn’t help.
Saul ignored everything else and hurried to stack the two laboratory tables together.
He climbed on top, but despite his efforts, he still couldn’t reach the ceiling.
Jumping, he barely managed to grasp the soil overhead—only to slip and fall back onto the table.
The piercing sound in his ears grew unbearable. His legs wobbled as he tried again, but his body refused to move.
Just as he was about to fall off the table—
A dry, withered, yellowish hand suddenly burst through the soil above.
It grabbed Saul’s arm and yanked him out of the underground chamber.
Blinding sunlight struck his face.
“Pfft! Pfft!” Saul spat out dirt and dust, barely opening his eyes as he gasped, “Thank you, thank you—I really thought I was done for.”
The one who had saved him was the garden’s caretaker.
His skin was the same yellowed hue as his face, and his movements were unnervingly stiff.
“Don’t be afraid,” the caretaker said cheerfully, his grin unchanging. “This was an old laboratory beneath the wizard tower, but it was abandoned long ago. The wizards reinforced it, but sometimes, wandering apprentices still fall through.”
Interesting
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