«To reach the Necropolis where the wise rest, you need to across the Whirlpool.»

Y's words come back to my thoughts.

The mass of air moved by the Whirlpool makes my hair fly. The bells jingle and Gron's fur swells in a funny dance.

I hate water.

I would avoid it with all my heart.

Instead, I find myself having to deal with it.

Leaning with my hands on the parapet, I lean out over the swirling luminescent sea.

The corals do not appear to have taken root in the [Warrior], [Champion], and [Hero] halls. I imagine it is thanks to the strong current. It would not surprise me to see a coral rise only to be immediately uprooted and swallowed by the swirling pit.

Mircalla rests here. Kirlh'iau was also supposed to rest here.

It would have.

Instead, it was [obliterated], remaining only a sad parenthesis of my past.

“N, shall we go?”

Gron is sitting. I lower my gaze because of the wind. I struggle to hear it.

“Now let's go… if there is no other way.”

The area, known as Necropolis in the Floodplain, can be reached via [Dungeon path]. It has been used in the past and is saved in the library.

I sigh, watching a wave foaming against other waves.

However, to reach it with [Dungeon path], I need to have [mastery: 7]. Mine is still at [6].

It is an area the roots of the cosmic tree pass through, and this disrupts the functioning of low-level magic. Y has a [Dungeon path] of [mastery: 4], which is also useless in these circumstances.

I sigh again.

I watch my snake-headed tail wrap around handrails.

So, you have to dive in.

I will have to resist the current.

I will have to swim to the underground network. From there, go up to the river and, from the river, follow the road towards the Valley.

Sure, there is also the organ.

But I do not know the melodies, and Y does not know what it is.

«Another wonder that arose during my sleep—Wow!»

I massage my ears. I twitch my toes on the edge. I stare at the water. I have goosebumps.

I have a plan. But I do not feel like jumping into it. Water evokes bad memories for me, including canals to chase the [Devil].

“Anf… it's okay. Complaining is useless. Right, Gron?”

“Prr. Sure. Do you want me to tell you about that time when to save one of my companions, I had to throw myself from a ship into a full sea—”

“Gron.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” I smile at the cat.

I am happy. It manages to lighten things up even in this moment.

I am worried. The Whirlpool is like that tornado, like volcanoes. A cosmic force on a different scale.

Let's hope so.

Ci-cin!

I wrap Gron in my tail.

“N, are you sure that—!”

I take a breath…

…I close my eyes…

…I dive!

SPLASH!

I end up underwater.

It is freezing, and the current makes me splash away. I open my eyes, but the luminescence of the foam cannot be seen underneath. A black sea surrounds me, and a force drags me.

There are no surfaces to stick to with [Shadow wall], nor points to go to with [Dungeon path].

So.

[Necromancy]!

The icy entrails of a monstrous creature envelop me, and suddenly, the sound of the current stops.

It becomes distant, muffled.

I feel crushed and cramped, but at least I am safe.

“Gron, are you there? I do not see you…”

“I see you. If I light a flame, will your evocation resist?”

“A Whalelich with swimming skills, I doubt it will suffer for a little light.”

After a few moments, a small flame appears in the darkness.

It lights up some rotten guts, and I notice Gron's mustache. They are surrounded by red flames, which make the atmosphere very hot.

The cat's wet fur is stuck and pressed to its skin. Like my clothes and my hair, for that matter.

“So, we dry ourselves during the journey. Prrr.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Hehe, yeah, yeah.”

Gron's good mood rubs off on me. After all, things seem to have gone well.

The [Whalelich] knows where to go. Thanks to the grimoire, I know the location of the destination.

♦

A lot of time passes, and Gron has to reload the [ap] several times. In those moments of absolute darkness, while my mustache does not burn, I listen to the sounds of water. In the current, I have never noticed that I seem to hear countless whispers. I cannot make sense of the words. But I am disturbed by them.

When it arrives at its destination, the sperm whale opens its jaws wide and vomits into it onto a muddy beach.

I dispel the spell, and the being dissolves into a pool of water.

Gron shakes itself, splashing mud everywhere, and I protect my face with my hand.

«Fsss!»

“Careful! Aren't you supposed to be, like, my devotee? Hehe.”

“Sorry, prr. Devotion is also sharing, right?”

I get up and straighten my clothes. A tickle on the soles of my feet makes me check the ground. Under my footprints, I see specks of gold emerging like threads from the sand.

Or like needles…

I look up. In the dimly illuminated area, there are veins of gold that run along the schist sands.

The same soft, ticklish needles look like a sort of golden fuzz sprouting on these veins.

I notice that Gron is also curious and tries to tear off a filament with one paw.

Looking up again, I notice that this beach with hairy veins extends beyond my visual horizon. The dome of the room cannot be seen, nor can any rock walls be seen.

It must be one of those rooms spanning thousands of thousands of miles.

The black sea behind me cackles and gurgles at my feet. But it is calm, if compared to Whirlpool. It does not even have its typical luminescent surface.

Here, the waters are cloudy, as if they were stagnant.

“N, how did we find our way to this place?”

“Well, it seems to be the Valley towards the Necropolis.”

“Prrr.” Gron shines its fur from the tar sand. Some specks of gold remained intertwined in the fur.

“For the Necropolis of the Mausoleums, I think we will just have to proceed straight,” I speak trying to sound confident, but my voice hesitates to come out.

The golden grass and veins make the ground visible, but the rest is immersed in darkness.

On the other hand, wandering around would be useless, and we might as well try straight ahead.

Ci-cin, Ci-cin.

My tails wag. The one with the snake's head approaches the grass, sticks out its tongue, and hisses. I do not understand whether to lick the plant or just for fun.

“Come Gron, in the meantime, we're leaving. If needed we can start from here with Dungeon path.”

♦

We walk for a while, and nothing significant happens. There is darkness all around, and a constant buzz reminds me of the scratching of insects. But I know it is not them. They disappeared from the upper levels for a long time.

Going deeper, the insects are still audible. But they are the rear of a now dissolved army. Within thousands of thousands of years, they will disappear completely.

No, they are not the cause of the buzz.

It is the vein. The veins.

The golden fuzz coming out of them is the cause of this sound. The veins sigh. It is as if they reacted by letting out, sighs as we passed by.

Whispers.

They must be at an incredibly low volume. Gron does not seem to notice and walks beside me.

With the intense yellow light coming from below, the orange part of its coat lights up and shines with the reflected glow.

But there is nothing here.

Nothing is visible. If we are in a valley, it means there are walls similar to peaks. Or real mountains.

I would not be surprised. The Underwasteland is immense and contains structures far more impressive than a mountain range.

Yet I do not catch anything except this increasingly thicker hair.

The grain becomes a more intricate, soft, and noisy web under my feet. The ground becomes more compact, and my footprints no longer remain.

No trace of the Necropolis. There are no Mausoleums in sight. What if we took a wrong turn? Gron's fears are mine. In this sense, the grimoire is useless. This area is being mapped by the undersigned.

Y said she has a full dungeon map, but the [Empress] and [Yellow Queen] data are exchangeable for internal System security reasons.

Sigh.

Ci-cin.

“Gron?”

The animal stopped a few steps ahead of me. Thanks to its feline vision, it acts as the vanguard of the expedition.

“N. There's something I want to ask you.”

“Does it have to do with your creator? Aren't you excited to see him again?”

From the words Gron said to me from our meeting—re-meeting, if I consider the surgical erasure of some of my memories—I can be of its desire to meet Dal-Dazzer.

He is the creator of Gron, the alchemist with divine powers.

“You don't remember. Normally, it doesn't seem strange to you. Prrr.”

“What do you mean?”

“That is the story provided by Y. The math doesn't add up. I'm a cat of the world. I know that unexpected events happen, and people lie.”

I shrug, tilt my head, and frown. “Do you doubt Y?”

“No. That's not what I mean. I want to make it clear. My primary source was as reliable as Y. Don't you remember us talking about this? Dal-Dazzer should be above level ninety. Leviathan had confirmed that they would rest in the same place.”

I try to understand and order my thoughts, but nothing of what Gron is telling me comes to mind.

“Indeed—to create a cat-golem like you would require divine powers.”

“Exactly, prrr.”

“But, looking at things openly, divine powers are obtainable temporarily with objects, or blessings, or miracles, or—”

“I see where you're going with this. But trust me, the Great and Faithful Gron. Here, the math doesn't add up. Why would Leviathan or this Yellow Queen lie? Why?”

Hmm. The thing is, I cannot think of anything.

I blink in confusion and bite my bottom lip.

“Maybe they were just wrong. Or, you received an anomalous accommodation. I remember that I also put people to rest in particular places.”

…Sylviette in the orchestra hall…

…and Kirlh'iau [obliterated] in the Arena. They are the two that I remember best. The same reincarnated [Fiend], by Kirlh'iau, was judged in the desert instead of inside the dungeon.

Yes, Dal-Dazzer may have suffered the same fate.

“Prr. Can be. I don't deny that it may be as you say. However, I am not convinced. Y pointed out that her level was less than ninety. The statements of Y and Leviathan conflict. I don't know if you know what I mean. Dal is above level ninety and can access the Golden Doors, and Leviathan's words make sense—or he is not above level ninety, and we will find him here to help us with Irferno.”

I shake my head. With my big toe, I crush a vein protruding from the ground.

“I don't know what to tell you Gron. These are difficult topics, and I would have the mental clarity to talk about them. But, without all the memories, it's hard to put things right.”

“I know, I understand. Excuse me. This discussion is just to say we should keep our senses on high alert.”

Ci-cin.

I smile. “Of course, that always!” I put my arms behind my shoulders and look around. “If we reached these mausoleums, it wouldn't be bad either.”

“Prr. So don't worry. I just wanted to be sure of the situation.”

“Hm?”

“We arrived N. The mausoleum is a few miles downhill from here.”

Ci-cin.

I prick up my ears. I can only see the field of fluff all around, and it does not seem to go down like it is going downhill.

“Really?”

“Yes. The ground begins to slope further ahead. The veins come out and remain suspended like a spiderweb in the air. Below them, however, I see structures.”

Oh!

In the distance, the luminescence of the veins seems all-round, not just from bottom to top.

So, do they come out of the ridge?

Some canopy and dome of the Valley? Or a deep niche within it?

Gron walks away, and I follow. As we continue, the veins become knottier and protruding. The ground gives way beneath them, and the descent begins.

The fluff makes louder sounds when we pass through it, and Gron seems alarmed. Their sinister rustling continues until we are under the golden dome.

The light is like that of a yellow chandelier that is lost in the darkness below. Perhaps from the mausoleums at the bottom of the Valley, I might remember the starry sky that the deceased have told me about over time.

Or maybe not, but I am curious.

From where we are, I cannot see the structures yet. I am sure that Gron has specific visual [skills] as a [Cat] and as an [Explorer].

In any case, I suppose the distance is not that great. Gron sees better than me in the dark, undoubtedly. But not even it can see past obstacles that block its view or targets that are too far away.

Anyway, it does not matter. It is been a long time since the last adventure, and the emotion makes me heartbeat.

The spirit of discovery, being at a party with someone who is an expert in adventures and explorations… how nice!

Sylviette would not approve. I remember her disappointment when I gloated during our adventure. It is a cherished memory, which, fortunately, I have not lost.

What if I had lost similar memories with Gron?

Sigh.

Ci-cin!

Oh, stop thinking sad things.

I am not saying I am happy with the situation, but—

I am sure we will figure everything out!

After all, this darkness and these desolate places are my home. They're on my side, as Gron appears to be.

I am not alone, and I do not fear obstacles.

Irferno, errors…

…you are no different from Kavfyra and Amerio.