They faced the metal door which had no handle, dead that served it or any obvious signs of how it could be opened. Yet, it was the only direction they could go in.

Hunter scratched his beard and took a deep puff of his smoke. Jack laughed. “What if we get stuck and have to ask Boggo for directions?” he said to himself.

“I know how to open it and I’m simply thinking of a... better way.”

After a while, Hunter grabbed one of the spikes that stuck out of the door. The bones and skulls that hung off them started clattering. The old man pulled and the spikes stabbed at him all at once.

Jack stumbled out of their way, grazing his tunic. It got stuck on the sharp end of a spike. He pulled, ripping his clothes even more in the process of freeing them. I shouldn’t be drunk for matters like this, he thought. We barely got out that bar and dodged these things. If a deadman comes, we’re done for. No, forget about that. If the slowest anvil in the world falls on us, we’re done for.

“This method doesn’t work… Maybe you try.” Hunter pointed at Jack.

Jack raised an eyebrow and walked up to the door as the spikes retracted. He grabbed one.

The bones and skulls started to shake. A moment later, the spikes shot out at full speed.

Jack jumped away and fell on his back. One spike went an inch above his face.

“Ah, this is just a waste of time.” Hunter helped him get up. “We’ll do it the good old way.” He grabbed the bottle of Holy Water and opened it. But then, the skulls and bones puffed into dust.

Hunter’s brow furrowed. “You managed to open it,” he murmured and grabbed the spikes.

What do you mean I managed to open it? I did exactly what you did, so, literally nothing! Jack backed off.

“Don’t worry,” the old man said. “We’re good: you did it. These things shouldn’t go at us anymore.”

As long as I can get stabbed, I can worry, Jack thought and kept his distance nonetheless.

All the spikes--apart from the middle one--fell out of the door. Holes were left in their places. Hunter pushed the middle spike until it was fully in the door. Clicks and scratches sounded in the metal. Something popped loudly and smoke shot out of the holes.

Jack backed off even farther as phantom pain from Everia’s servants’ auras flashed on his skin.

The smoke filled half the chamber and engulfed Hunter. The old man didn’t scream or writhe in pain. All good, Jack eased and walked into the smoke.

Then, the door in front started to open.

***

Nor the Ocean of Continents nor the Fields of the Night could compare. No, not even Company’s Heart and all its thousand year glory came close to the sight.

They’d passed dungeons, a church and countless odd chambers, but those were only the beginning. The true Hall of Ceremony was in front of them and the word “hall” barely described the place.

Another world laid hidden under the ground and the forests of Rednaro. It went on for miles in every direction and contained massive valleys, canyons, hills, mountains and seas while huge crystals above gave light to everything.

Jack put a hand over his open mouth. I expected something great, he thought. But this is absolutely insane. According to every damn rule of the world, this shouldn’t be possible.

Oh, powers that be, if I ran away, I wouldn’t have seen anything like this.

The sight alone makes it all worth it. It makes me want to see what hides in these depths. The secrets here… I can’t even begin imagining them…

The whole underworld was inside a massive cave. The metal door had led to a rock balcony hanging off a wall and overlooking everything. Hunter began strolling down a rickety stairway and the door behind slammed shut. A spark of fear flashed through Jack and he went after the old man.

“Well, this is one ‘underground castle’,” Jack said, scratching the back of his head.

“You could say it does all a castle has to. We named this place the Great Underworld. It was a pain in the ass calling everything the Hall of Ceremony...”

This makes you kinda a liar, doesn’t it? Jack thought. You call a sword a tomato and expect me not to get annoyed? “Why didn’t you tell me about this when I accepted your deal?”

“You see it with your own eyes and you understand. Words would’ve been a waste -- they couldn’t even begin to describe this place.”

That’s true, but… just because a kid has a hard time fathoming something doesn’t mean we stop teaching them.

“And your people got this here? How do you even--”

“Sorcery.”

“I’ve seen sorcery. Indeed, only once, but enough to know it can’t do this. This place is--”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Incredible, I’m sure, but are you really so naive to think you’ve seen all sorcery has to offer? Can you even imagine the capabilities of sorcery when it uses the strongest source of power there is?”

“I haven’t--”

“And so you haven’t got the right to doubt.”

Jack sighed. “Hard to imagine anyone being in the presence of this place’s creation. This Hall of Ceremony--or Great Underworld--is like a natural wonder. Like something no human could attempt to make. It’s like one of those things that have always been and will never cease to be.”

“Indeed, humans couldn’t build this. The Hall of Ceremony was constructed by a group of very dedicated and even more efficient rats.”

What? Jack looked at Hunter sideways. Did I hear that right?

The old man stared with a straight face. Then, he couldn’t help, but crack a grin.

Jack rolled his eyes.

“These days, it’s hard for even me to remember the creation,” Hunter said. “Nothing as incredible happened since then and my memories should be vivid, but... But all I see is a blur. My memory is damn good, but I struggle to let myself remember. Can’t face the bitter past.”

“This is all so interesting and so surreal that it’s dizzying,” Jack said. I’m like a village kid entering Company’s Heart for the first time. “Actually, it’s really dizzying. It might be these stairs… oh, powers that be, were we so high all this time?!” His legs slightly trembled and a panic that made him want to curl up into a ball appeared within him.

“If heights scare you, the Underworld will creep you to death. Though that dizziness... well, it could be something different,” Hunter spoke slowly. “I told you a lot already, except for one thing. It’s a small matter: there’s another… side effect to this place.”

“Except for creating zombies out of corpses?”

Hunter nodded. “They’re related, I think.”

“Well, what’s this ‘side effect’?”

“It changes you.” Hunter said. “There are things you might see or feel that aren’t real. Remember that, yet when the time comes, I doubt you’ll be able to.”

Curious. If this place makes you hallucinate, has it already had an effect on me? Was the church and the priest even real?

Hunter saw them too, so they must be.

I need to keep track of these things. Other observations as well, before they slip out of my mind.

“Maybe you got a pen and a paper?”

Hunter took out his journal. “Sure, sure.” He tore out a page from the back and handed it--along with a piece of coal--to Jack.

Jack held Hunter’s heavy urn in his underarm and straightened the yellowed paper.

A blob of ink--similar to a symbol of a skull--stained a corner and a few faded lines of text were written in the center.

He wiped all the scribbles he could away and started pouring his thoughts. His curiosity had been fulfilled and now his mind desired to make sense of everything around.

They descended down the final stony step.

Enough for now, Jack put away the paper and raised his eyes. His hand jerked towards his dagger. He almost lunged forward, but Hunter grabbed him and shot him an annoyed look.

Oh, he’s not out to kill us, Jack understood the old man without even a word. I get that, but I can’t stop my instincts. Deadmen are deadmen and they’re terrifying….

A dead stood in front and wore a dark robe which cast a shadow over his face. Hunter walked to it and halted a few feet ahead, like if an invisible barrier stopped them from getting too close to one another.

“What’s his purpose?” Jack asked.

“To help us.”

***

“...now!”

In unison with Hunter, Jack shook the deadman’s hand.

The dead moved for the first time and stopped looking a statue that wouldn’t ever. Its cold hand squeezed.

Jack grunted and lodged his feet in the black dirt. He fought the uncanny feeling that flashed through his arms and heart beating with anxiety. His eyes stayed locked in contact with the dead’s unmoving ones.

This is one damn dangerous process, he thought. You aren’t supposed to kill us, but what if you try to?

If this ritual works, you’ll help, but will your help be worth the risk?

“Coradejas, paman, illi y corasax,” Hunter chanted.

The deadman’s eyes glowed white and he unclenched the hands in his grip.

Jack breathed as the pain let go of his hand, but kept holding the deadman.

The dead’s eyes started pulsating then its body vibrated as Hunter repeated the chant.

“Hunter,” the deadman spoke in a garbled voice. “Ovo cora.”

“U ovo cora bonaci la Ha,” Hunter responded.

Jack raised an eyebrow. He started figuring out a pattern behind all the old man’s rituals.

He came close to the deadmen, begged and bargained, chanted weird commands and made some sort of sacrifice or move. This ritual matched what Jack guessed apart from the last bit -- Hunter didn’t dunk his head in a basin, didn’t give any of his blood or ask Jack to win a fight.

“Coragratus.”

“Sure, sure… It is done.”

Finally, Jack dropped the hand and backed away.

“How will he help us? Will he… carry all our stuff or kill that Everia?”

“He shall lead us to the heart of the Hall of Ceremony and the Underworld for... he is the Pathfinder.”

Oh. That’s good, but also… we’ll fully trust one of these things?

“Didn’t you say you know this whole place?”

“I don’t. Go ahead -- try and memorize the lands of a whole nation. That’s right -- you can’t.”

Alright, I get it...

The Pathfinder started hiking and left them both behind. Hunter turned around and was bedazzled. He ran to catch up with the dead. Jack hurried as well.

Only going into the depths of the Underworld could Jack come to terms with their scale. I’m gonna see some things, he thought. We’ve gotta end that Everia and bring the urn to the Heart of this place, yet I’d rather just explore it all.

They hiked through what seemed to be the easiest to traverse part of the Underworld -- a field of black dirt covered in mist. The fog stopped a lot of the light from the crystals above and Hunter still had to light his lantern.

They reached a miniscule hill and far in front, a mountain came into view. Beyond that mountain, the beginnings of a sea appeared.

“It’s easy sailing from now on,” Hunter said and put a smoke between his lips. “If you consider easy sailing a grueling trip through agony. The Pathfinder should lead us straight to the Heart. We get the urn back to where it’s meant to be and return. Hopefully, we won’t encounter Everia and her servants, but that belief is as naive as it can get.”

“All I know is death, hell, deceit and more death.” Jack laughed. “This is like an everyday nap for me.”