Chapter 474 - Relentless passage of time

There are a few payments to be made, some final checks, and confirmations—just the kind of annoying tasks the twins insisted on handling themselves.

After that, trailing behind the main group, we pass through a door carved into the rock and enter a wide tunnel with a low ceiling. Soon, the space opens up, revealing a massive hollow within the mountain.

That hole is as wide as a city block, with stairs carved into its side that spiral down. These stairs are wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and there is obviously no railing. A single bad step is enough to send you falling.

I’m sure there are plenty of members who could survive the fall with flight, teleportation, or maybe using some fancy skill. Hell, some races here can fly as is. But I’m also sure some would die from falling down, and that’s because of the glow that can be seen deep below. A river of molten lava swirling and passing through.

“We’re not sure what it is, but for those who haven't heard of it, there’s a river of molten material that flows nearby,” one of the leaders informs the group. “Some of you might think you could survive falling into it, but let me warn you: that river moves fast. It will drag you under and carry you deep beneath the rock, far from here, to wherever it leads.”

He grabs a small stone and throws it down, the stone falling for around twenty seconds before it hits the surface. I estimate the river is a mile deep bellow us.

“This expedition will head to the lower floors of the mines into the tunnel that is not far away from the lava river. If you want to complain, complain to the leaders of your parties. Everyone was informed. Let's move !”

There’s no organization, no elaborate planning—just too little trust for any of that. The group will rely on sheer numbers when danger arises, and everyone knows it. It feels less like a unified expedition and more like several large groups moving in the same direction after a few basic background checks.

The first group begins descending the stairs, slowly making their way down. No one flies, teleports, or moves quickly. Instead, they opt for walking, and as our turn rolls around, I think I partially understand it. The molten materials creating the river below generate some sort of field that seems to have a disruptive effect. While the stairs seem to be somewhat shielded, the inner side of the hole is filled with a constantly fluctuating disruptive field.

It’s very fascinating to me, and I wonder if this is a mix of mana-conductive metals that are heated up, melted, quickly moving, crashing against each other, and causing all of this. The effect isn’t strong enough to cause me trouble, and I bet there are plenty of similar people.

As for the stairs, even though they are undamaged, it’s weirdly fun to walk on them, seeing the glow of the river deep below as the stairs are just stone plates sticking out of the wall, with holes in between each step.

(It feels like we are descending to hell,) a first complaint comes from Dennis.

(Food?)

(Nat?)

(He’s asking if there is food in Hell.)

(I don’t know, Biscuit,) Dennis answers.

Biscuit seems to be disappointed but continues to look at the people walking behind us. He is currently held in my arms, my hand supporting his backside, and his chin and neck resting on my shoulder, looking behind me.

While we are descending, I observe the effect of the river on the mana I radiate into the air and listen to some guys behind us.

“First number two dies a few months ago, and damn, I swear I thought that guy was too angry to die. Then a month ago number eight, and just a few days ago number ten. Is someone hunting these guys?”

I notice the twins stiffen when number eight is mentioned.

(No worries, I cleared the tracks you made.) I send through the link.

(Yea, I know. It just made me remember that guy. I swear, Nat, he popped up out of nowhere like some fucking scout selling cookies,) Dennis shivers.

(He also cut you in half as he was dying,) his brother reminds him.

I redirect my attention back to the guys talking behind us.

“… and what if they aim for The Witch or Spinecrusher? Together with Babyface, there are three of them.”

“I don’t know about Spinecrusher or Babyface, but wouldn’t The Witch just fuck up whoever tries to go against her? It’s ten years since she went anywhere. At this point, she might as well be sweating mana, I swear.”

“What do you think would happen to all that mana if someone killed her?”

“Mana would be fine, but we would be beyond royally screwed.”

“So damn funny. Ha ha. And fucking hell, don’t push me! I almost fell.”

“Just look where you’re stepping.”

As the conversation changes from an interesting topic, I stop listening and notice that Biscuit is curiously sniffing at the shortsword in the sheath on my waist. It doesn’t seem that he can sense anything from the weapon itself, as I’m sure I sealed it properly.

Plus, we would know if it wasn’t. All of us would know.

(Nat, I’ve wanted to ask this for a while, but why did you shape that thing like a sword?) I get a message from Dennis.

Hearing something interesting, Aaron and Lily listen in too.

I step to the side for a better view below. The darkness around us is cut by the magma river deep below and the few lights others are using. With how enormous the hole is, it makes my adventurous spirit rise. Now we only need to find some old note from dwarves saying they shouldn’t dig so deep.

(I was thinking about plenty of shapes,) I send an answer. (Staff, javelin, spear, axe, sphere, cube, and more, but so far the sword felt the most familiar to me and easy to move around. Simple as that.)

Dennis, who likes to use a shortsword and dagger combination, adds happily, (Swords are cool! Elegant, slim, and don’t draw too much attention to you, unlike an ax like Lily’s that’s close to being bigger than you.)

His brother adds, (I don’t know, man. I don’t think they stare at Lily only because of the axe. She is quite a looker.)

([Surgery],) Dennis says smartly.

(Wasn’t it [Plastic Surgery]?) Aaron asks.

(It evolved.)

(Oh!)

(You two know I’m also here right ? Should I let you stay cut in half next time, Dennis? Oh, and do you remember that toxin, Aaron?)

Aaron energetically shakes his head. (Lily, I know Dennis. If you leave him cut in half, each half will regrow, and there will be two annoying jerks instead of one. You really shouldn’t let that happen, for all our sakes.)

(That’s true,) Dennis agrees in a serious tone. (And I saw Aaron eat terrible things back on Earth. He’s the kind of guy who can drink orange juice after brushing his teeth. Some random toxin means nothing to such an abomination.)

The conversation continues the entire time we walk downward the narrow stairs carved into walls of the hole. It’s friendly, and it might feel careless, but I know very well all three of them are on their guard even while acting like this.

It’s something I’ve instilled in them over the past months.

***

When we are just over the molten river below and the expedition heads into the tunnel, I pause, making the rest of the small group stop with me.

(I bet he wants to jump down there just to see how that disruption works and if closer proximity to it would be able to affect him.)

I decide to ignore that heinous message and stare at it. Curious, I activate [Ley Line] and toss the thread down, tied to a piece of metal I pull from my bag—metal I know won’t melt anytime soon. Before it’s completely dragged under and carried away, I anchor it to the wall.

The river does nothing to it. Ley Line holds like a champ, not even a bit disrupted. I keep it there and head into the tunnel, with two more threads following me, both connected to the surface.

***

Not too far into the tunnel, we come across some abandoned machinery—rusted, crumbling, and long forgotten. Each piece is intricate, covered in strange, unfamiliar inscriptions that give hints at their original purpose. There are empty slots where mana stones should have been, likely used as power sources, but now nothing remains. The machines themselves are varied in design, each one seemingly created for a different task, and all of them equally fascinating as they decay, resting against the walls or buried under rock.

One machine is large, with gears that no longer turn, its metal joints destroyed with age. Another is smaller, more delicate, almost like it was meant for some kind of precise work. The inscriptions, though alien, look familiar to me in a way I can’t quite place. I stop for a moment to study them, my fingers touching the patterns etched into the surface. I spot a piece of strange alloy, something that catches my eye, and pocket it.

The group ahead continues moving and there is no more time to linger. With a final glance at the abandoned machines, I quickly catch up, knowing they won’t wait for us.

***

At the front of the expedition, fights break out as monsters begin attacking the lead members. The creatures are dealt with quickly, their ambushes barely slowing the group down, but from the reactions of people it´s clear the danger is only just beginning.

I can sense monsters burrowing through the tunnel walls, slithering beneath our feet, and moving just above our heads, hidden in the shadows. Their movements are subtle but unmistakable, like the tremors, heat generated by their bodies, a hint of mana left behind them.

For now, there are only a few dozen, but even at this distance, I can feel the presence of hundreds more lurking far beyond.

Waiting. Preparing.

***

Further into the tunnel, we come across several old campsites with broken tents, cooking equipment left behind, and some empty crates scattered around. These are all very old, likely not from any of the expeditions.

If someone said they were from before this moon was turned into a prison, I would believe them. Each of these remains crumbles to dust from the weakest vibrations or the simplest touch.

It’s thrilling to imagine that hundreds of years ago, people walked these same tunnels—living, eating, and interacting with others—never thinking that centuries later, people like us would be staring at the remnants they left behind.

That feeling akin of nostalgia captivates me.

If I die far in the future, will someone one day look at what I’ve left behind, unaware of my thoughts, hopes, and struggles? Will the name Nathaniel Gwyn be forgotten, along with everyone who ever knew me, and all these beautiful adventures we went through erased by the relentless passage of time?

It’s both fascinating and a little sad.

Before we move on, I offer Lily a bottle of water, and she takes a sip with a smile. I toss a lame joke into the twins’ conversation, give Biscuit a quick pat, and then we leave that place behind.

***

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