Ci-cin.

I open my eyes.

Silence and darkness.

Nothing new. Nothing different than most of my life.

There is a burning smell in the air and I struggle to breathe. It's a heavy atmosphere, unusually warm for the dungeon.

Turning my head, I see a blue luminescence in the darkness. As I strain my ears I hear faint noises, very distant.

My head hurts a little, I feel groggy.

I sit down. I am uncomfortable due to the size of the steps, the bone in the tails is crushed between me and the upper step. I have to lean forward, resting my chest on my knees to be comfortable.

I was defeated again. Even if this time I just blacked out. How far has the [Devil] gone?

I massage my head. I feel like my skull is exploding.

Of course, it is the effect of the substances emitted by the [Devil]. I could analyze it with [Scan] but I just want to leave.

I stretch my arms and then my legs. I stand up and look into the darkness, interrupted only by the blue luminescence here and there.

“Open”

The darkness moves, intertwines and the grimoire appears in my hand. A now familiar alarm catches my attention.

WARNING!

A deceased being of [lv] equal to or greater than [90] entered the Underwasteland dungeon without the supervision of the [Empress].

Identified as [???] [lv: 92].

Intentions: hostile.

Elapsed time: 3.45 hours.

Having been unconscious for less than four hours is good news.

Better this way, I breathe a sigh of relief. It means the [Devil] couldn't have gone too far. The noises are probably echoes of its mad descent.

By following the trail of luminescence I can reach it.

But first I have to do something else.

I turn and take a couple of steps. A doubt creeps in and I think again about the possibility of immediately setting off in pursuit.

…is it right to involve her?

♦

“I'll help you.”

Sylviette is in the kitchen, sitting on a chair. I explained the situation to her and she decided to intervene.

She did not enter the trapdoor for fear of causing further damage. The God of Wisdom deceived her but I don't blame her. She couldn't have known.

The house has already been rebuilt and only a few boards have not yet returned to their original places.

“Look, it's dangerous.”

“I'm already dead anyway.”

“True, but we don't know whether or not the Devil has the ability to obliterate…”

“And what would they be?”

Ci-cin.

I look away.

How do you explain this to someone who knows almost nothing about the System? I'm sure that [Evil shield] works and therefore the [Devil] can [obliterate]. What I don't know, and what I don't want to draw hasty conclusions about, is understanding whether even a non-magical deceased like Sylviette, unlike the zombies generated by [Necromancy], can be affected.

Ah, I slap my hand on the table. I can try to say it like this:

“Obliteration is when the deceased, instead of sleeping forever, is completely erased.”

“As if it didn't exist?”

“Exactly, it's a usually controlled procedure—like dying in the Ocean.”

Sylviette cannot understand the Ocean reference and, even citing it, she would not understand the case of the Arena either.

The point is that outside of these cases [obliteration] is an error. Only now do I understand the [Devil]'s purpose… now that it is dead, obliterating is an operation that could collapse the System.

Sylviette puts a finger to her mouth. She has a worried expression and bites her lower lip. She cracks her neck, closes and opens her eyes, and looks back at me.

“Okay, let's consider that it doesn't have such abilities. I don't want to think now about things I don't know.”

“But you could disappear!”

“I understand!” Sylviette also slaps her palm on the table. “But you need help. I didn't even bring you the sacred object.”

“It's no use, rather, if you want I can take you to sleep before starting the hunt—we need to get moving, I'd like to leave hunting before four and a half hours.”

It's not that I'm in a hurry. Following the traces, I can allow myself a certain margin, but ultimately, I would like to have some help.

I just don't know which way to go…

“N, let's do this. I come with you. If we find out that the Devil can obliterate me, judge me, and go on alone.”

“Hmm…”

“Come on, given what I've done, at least the System will give me Nightmare if I don't fix it.”

Oh, fair point. I didn't even think about this eventuality.

Between [Nightmare] and being [obliterated]… hmm, maybe I'd rather be [obliterated].

Seriously.

When I died, I don't remember dreaming. If being [obliterated] meant anything like that, it's certainly better than an eternity of nightmares.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Ci-cin.

“Agree.”

“Well.” Sylviette stands up and goes into the next room.

I crane my neck and lean out of my chair to see. I see her staggering back with some sheets wrapped around something rigid.

She leaves the bundle on the table with a dull thud. She pulls back the cloth and reveals my swords.

“But those…!?”

“They are your swords. They flew around and I retrieved them while you were down. I imagined they could be useful.”

I was planning to get them back, better that way.

“Are we ready, N?”

I nod.

“Yes, we are.”

♦

I open the trapdoor and go down first. I carry the swords bundled on my back, wrapped in the dark sheet of my bed and supported by my tails.

Sylviette follows me and closes the trapdoor behind me. The orange rays of the horizon become thinner until darkness embraces us.

The blue luminescence of the [Devil]'s drool is still present and poorly delimits the steps and walls.

“Don't we use Dungeon path?”

“No, we don't know where the tracks lead.”

I feel Sylviette's hand on my shoulder. I turn around but in the dark, I can't see her.

“We can't even use it to get down to the bottom of the stairs?”

Ci-cin.

“I'm afraid not… I've never descended these stairs in their own right, but I know there are side corridors from time to time.”

Her hand lifts from my shoulder and gives me a gentle push. “Okay, I'll follow you then.”

“Can you see in the dark, Sylviette?”

“A little, don't worry. The luminescence is more than enough.”

Let's go down.

The temperature rises rapidly. Sylviette being undead doesn't seem to notice, but I sweat. I sweat profusely.

The [Devil]'s slime radiates a hot miasma, probably freezing to most living beings. But not for me, used to living in temperatures close to absolute zero.

My clothes get soaked and the sheet held up by my tails on my shoulders gets soaked with my sweat.

I gasp.

I suffocate. Though not like when I blacked out.

“N, are you okay?”

“Anf—yes, I'm just dying of heat…”

I hear Sylviette whisper something but I don't catch the meaning.

The street is narrow and the ceiling is high. I understand it from the luminescence that reaches up-up and then gets lost in the darkness. The [Devil] has squeezed itself well to get into this space.

The journey continues monotonously for several hours.

The further down we go, the more I sweat.

My hair sticks to my face, I stick my tongue out, swallow, and wipe my sweaty arm across my sweaty forehead.

Here the slime is newer and warmer.

It's a different heat than that given by Gron's fur. It's an unpleasant, viscous heat that stays with me and weighs me down. The clothing stuck to my back and the sock to my leg.

If I hadn't burned being crushed by the [Devil], I'm sure I would have suffocated in my sweat.

Furthermore, in the dark, I see little or nothing.

The luminescence is just useful for distinguishing the steps and showing us the way. But we don't hear any suspicious sounds. Only our footsteps echo in the area. Our steps and the insects that burrow.

Now and then I check the [WARNING] message to understand how much time is passing.

The [Devil] has a lead of several hours on us, but in this case, it means nothing. I'm sure I can reach it over the long distance and, if it gets close to the [core] at suspicious times, I can resort to [Dungeon path].

Who knows how Kirlh'iau ultimately managed to reach the [core] in so few years? I can bet it's thanks to the God of Wisdom, by now I could bring it up to justify everything.

When I reach the first crossroads I stop. It is a circular clearing in which the walls are interrupted and the spaces widen. To my right, coming down from the house, there is a straight corridor. Continuing between straight and left, I would go up some stairs.

The luminescence speaks clearly: I need to go up the stairs.

What a suffering. I sit on the step of the new slope, place the bundle with the swords on the side, and snort.

“There is something wrong?”

“My feet hurt. I'm suffocating from the heat!” I fan myself with one hand, but the air I move doesn't give me relief.

“Oh really? I feel good, not even the effort of walking, to be honest.”

“You are dead. Your body degrades but you don't suffer from it.”

“Oh, and what happens if it degrades?”

“Nothing, when your hp is at zero you will fall out of the membrane again. Except in the case of obliteration.”

I hear footsteps in the dark. “I understand. Are you thirsty?”

I look at the clearing in front of me. I can see Sylviette's silhouette thanks to the blue reflections, but nothing else.

“Yes, quite… with hindsight…”

“Sorry but, if you're thirsty, use the Dungeon path. Then you'll reappear here and we'll continue.”

Right! But what an idiot I am sometimes!

In this case, I know the clearing by now. I can go and come back.

“Thanks for the idea Sylviette. I will be right back!”

“Of course, I'll wait for you here.”

[Dungeon path]

I emerge into the kitchen.

My soaked feet cling to the charred boards and I feel cold shivers run through me. The sweat dries quickly and this makes me tremble.

I take a deep breath. I feel my lungs free themselves of a weight.

Ci-cin, Ci-cin, Ci-cin.

I shake my body and rub my shoulders to warm up. Then I go to the tap and open it. I drink and drink. I would like to have one of those things, like a flask, with which other species usually carry water for long journeys.

HA! What a pleasure to drink!

Now I can resume.

[Dungeon path] makes me reappear in the clearing.

I feel my breath catch. I can't breathe. Evidently, during the first descent, I gradually got used to the oppressive atmosphere.

That hassle…

“Blaahh” I vomit and lean on the wall with one hand.

“Done? You feel better?”

Sylviette do you want to be ironic?

It doesn't seem like it from her tone of voice, so I decide not to explain my thoughts.

“More or less… aah… let's continue.”

Collecting the swords, we continue the climb.

After a few hours, suspicious noises become audible, but Sylviette doesn't seem to notice because she still doesn't say anything.

I keep my ears open to catch any clue that might help me. I am not used to this way of operating, nor such rarefied light for such a long time.

I take a second break with [Dungeon path].

When I return, Sylviette puts her hand on my shoulder.

“Everything is fine?”

I nod. Luckily, she sees better than me in the dark. The noises are closer and so I put my finger to my lips, as a sign of silence.

The climb ends after more than an hour of further walking.

An open space like the previous one allows us to rest. At least to me. Sylviette is not tired at all.

Three possibilities in front of us: on the left a descent of stairs; on the right a corridor; behind us – reachable by stretching out our hands, the first step of a climb.

To get in here it is clear that the [Devil] compressed itself into a tube (given the low roof between the arrival staircase and the upper one).

The hypothesis is strengthened by the strong brightness of the area as if it had been a container for a greater quantity of sewage. When Sylviette approaches the walls, I can even see her.

Due to this narrowing and widening phenomenon, all three streets appear dirty.

“Which way are we going?” Sylviette scratches behind her ear, looking doubtful.

“Can't you hear the noise?”

She shakes her head. Elves see well in the dark but [Bakenekro] hear sounds better.

In light of this, perhaps I should put her in front… hmm… no, that would be too dangerous given the possibility of [obliteration].

“We have to go up further.” I point to the raised staircase and Sylviette tilts her head.

“There?”

“Yes, I hear an ominous echo coming from that direction.”

Ci-cin.

Once the obstacle has been climbed, the chase resumes.

I have never visited these stairs and corridors. Too close, too banal. I know the dock at the end of the dungeon much better than the corridors at the beginning.

I sense a certain irony.

The staircase, having reached the highest step, begins to descend and curve. A left turn made up of different steps. These are low and wide, slightly sloping.

I don't understand the point of all this.

What purpose is there in an architecture with stairs that go straight up and then down and curve? Why?

At this moment I wish I had investigated better. I certainly didn't lack time. I gave priority to distant and marginal research such as area [A-9]…

The truth is that I know little even about this first layer.

The staircase enlarges and widens and the luminescence reveals unlit candelabras on the walls. Many are corroded or shattered on the ground. Others have already regenerated in their place.

Probably the passage of the compressed [Devil] tore them apart.

The descent continues again and again. Now the steps, although they still turn to the left, are as large as terraces and the luminescence is more diluted and…

Sylviette holds me by the shoulder.

Ci-cin.

I'm immediately on guard.

In the darkness, I see nothing and the noises betray nothing suspicious.

I feel something cold in my ear. It's Sylviette's lips that starts to whisper.

“There are monsters up ahead.”

I turn my head. I can't see her but I know she's almost stuck to my face.

“How many? How they are made?” I whisper back.

Encountering monsters in the dungeons crossed by the heroes is normal. But in the Underwasteland?

Let's not joke, they must be creatures summoned by the [Devil]. I have to be careful. It can't be otherwise.

“They are two winged gargoyles.”

“Gargoyles?”

“Like those in the orchestra room.”

“Is there a door?” If the [Devil] fought with the gargoyles and passed through a door there is no problem.

“Yes, it's a huge door but it has a central hole from which liquid leaks. It seems melted at that point.”

I rest my hand on Sylviette's shoulder.

“Agree. Then we too will go through that hole.”

“N…”

“Yes?”

“I don't think it's that simple…” Sylviette frees herself from my hand and I lose perception of her position.

“No? Why?”

“Because gargoyles are weird.”

“Weird?”

“Weird.”