Chapter 61: Chapter 61: Under the Last Light

Two hours after the gargantuan steam bells of Karak-Zorn had tolled their heavy, resonant warning, the industrial heart of the mountain had been transformed into a surging sea of gold and cold steel. Thousands of Earth-Shielders marched in perfect, rhythmic synchrony, their heavy boots vibrating the very foundations of the cavern. However, while the main army surged through the protocol tunnels toward the primary barricades, a smaller, silent group of four—escorted by a singular, massive guardian—chose a different path.

The path toward the Deep Steam Vents.

The soles of Dayat’s tactical boots clicked against the stone floor, which was growing increasingly damp and slick with a strange, oily condensation. Ahead of him, Baruk-Ahn walked with his massive greataxe resting on his broad shoulder, his footsteps heavy enough to crack the smaller stones. His presence offered a flicker of false security in the face of a corridor that was rapidly narrowing, the walls pressing in as if the mountain itself were trying to crush the interlopers. The bioluminescent mana-crystals embedded in the walls had begun to dim, their blue light being devoured by a creeping, unnatural darkness that seemed to rise from the abyss below like a physical tide.

“We have officially crossed the threshold of the Workshop District,” Baruk-Ahn’s voice was deep, echoing amidst the hissing, rhythmic sighs of the steam pipes. “Ahead lies the deepest ventilation sector. There should be sentinels stationed at every turn here, but I hear no heartbeats. Not a single one.”

Lunethra halted, her beautiful face tight with a tension that mirrored the atmosphere. She raised her right hand, and a sphere of golden-white light began to coalesce in her palm, pulsing with a gentle, holy warmth. “This darkness… it is not merely the absence of light. It is a miasma, a foul breath that rejects our very existence. I will illuminate our path with a Light Veil so this corruption does not enter your lungs.”

Before Lunethra could release her spell, Dola stepped forward, her electric-blue eyes glowing with an intensity that outshone the Elf’s magic for a brief, sharp second.

“Master, I strongly advise against the use of conspicuous magical light sources,” Dola interjected flatly. She turned toward Lunethra with a gaze that was hard to decipher—professional, yet undeniably cold. “The light from this Elven unit will serve as a beacon for the predators lurking in this gloom. Based on my atmospheric analysis, the darkness ahead possesses a particle density capable of refracting magical light, rendering it inefficient for tactical navigation and making us easy targets.”

Lunethra narrowed her emerald eyes, her fingers twitching. “And what is your suggestion, lady of iron? We cannot navigate in absolute blindness.”

Dola turned her gaze back to Dayat. “Dayat, I have processed the optical data from Earth’s specialized military archives. I am prepared to transfer the technical specifications for the GPNVG-18 Ground Panoramic Night Vision Goggles. This device is significantly more efficient, passive in its detection, and will not broadcast our coordinates to the enemy.”

Dayat let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew this wasn’t just a technical debate. This was Dola asserting her dominance as his primary assistant, reclaiming the territory Lunethra had occupied while she was offline. “Dola, you know that if I pull a raw data dump of that complexity right now, my head is going to—”

“Only 0.02 seconds, Dayat. I have fragmented the data packet into smaller, digestible bursts to prevent a total neural overheat,” Dola interrupted, her voice gaining a hint of “wife-like” insistence.

“Fine. Gaspol. Do it,” Dayat answered, bracing himself.

[Data Transfer: INITIATED.]

Dayat gasped, his body jerking as a sharp, white-hot pain lanced through the base of his skull. It felt like a thousand needles made of frozen lightning were piercing his brain. He stumbled forward, catching himself on a rusted iron workbench. Blueprints of image intensifier tubes, objective lenses, and polymer housings swirled in his vision, settling into his long-term memory with a jarring finality.

“Dayat!” Lunethra moved instantly, her palm pressing against his forehead before Dola could react. “Be still… Lumina Sedativa.”

A soft, cool white light emanated from Lunethra’s palm, seeping into Dayat’s scalp. The stinging pain was gradually replaced by a refreshing, icy sensation, as if his head had been submerged in a mountain spring. The frantic drumming in his temples subsided.

Dola watched Lunethra’s hand linger on Dayat’s brow, her ocular sensors flickering with a rapid, staccato pulse. “An adequate magical healing, though medically it merely suppresses the pain receptors without repairing the localized synaptic friction.”

“Thanks, Lun. I’m better,” Dayat said, straightening his posture. He closed his eyes, focusing his imagination on the legendary quad-tube night vision assembly.

[MANIFEST.]

A dim blue aura flared in his hands. Out of the void of logic, four sets of the tactical GPNVG-18 goggles appeared, complete with their battery packs and Wilcox mounts. Dayat handed them out to Lunethra and Kancil, keeping one for himself. He offered the last set to Baruk-Ahn, but the Dwarf sentinel shook his head, pointing to his eyes—Dwarves possessed natural dark-vision. Dola, of course, had her own integrated sensors.

“Put these on,” Dayat commanded. “Kancil, come here, let me secure yours.”

Kancil, who had been silent and watchful, obeyed without a word. He didn’t look afraid, but his large eyes were darting around the shadows. Once the NVGs were lowered and switched on, the world of absolute darkness was transformed into a high-definition, neon-green landscape. Every pipe, every crack in the stone, and every drifting particle of soot was suddenly visible in a 97-degree panoramic view.

“Whoa! It’s like the sun is hiding in these glasses, Big Bro!” Kancil whispered in awe.

“Stay alert. Lun, I need your barrier, but keep it passive. Don’t let it glow,” Dayat said.

Lunethra nodded, impressed despite herself. She began to chant in a low, melodic voice. “In the name of Nura, let the light shroud us without being seen. Aegis Photonis.”

A thin, shimmering layer of energy appeared around Dayat and Kancil. It didn’t emit a visible glow, but it acted as a filter, preventing the black miasma from touching their skin. The “Light” attribute of Lunethra’s magic was poison to the dark energy of the Abyss.

They continued their descent. Baruk-Ahn eventually stopped in front of a gargantuan iron door that had been ripped clean off its hinges. The heavy metal was twisted outward, as if a weight of several tons had slammed into it from the inside.

“This is where my journey ends,” Baruk-Ahn said, his voice heavy with regret. “King Ironbeard needs me at the vanguard to lead the Earth-Shielders. The sector beyond this gate is no longer under Terragard’s law. Be careful, Lord Dayat. If you find my warriors… if any still breathe… bring them home.”

Dayat nodded firmly. “I will. Take care of the King, Baruk.”

The Dwarven warden turned and sprinted back toward the city with surprising speed. Now, Dayat, Dola, Lunethra, and Kancil were truly alone on the threshold of the Abyss.

The biting scent of sulfur was replaced by a metallic, coppery aroma of blood and the sickening rot of meat left in the sun. Dola took the point, holding Dayat’s modified HK416—now fitted with a thermal optic—ready to hand it over at a moment’s notice.

“Master, I am detecting biometric anomalies ahead. Range: 50 meters,” Dola whispered, her voice a ghost in the static. “Black blood traces found on the floor. Composition: 60% unidentified biological matter, 40% Void energy residue.”

Dayat took the HK416 from Dola, checking the magazine. Ammunition was a major hurdle for others, but for Dayat, as long as he understood that a 5.56mm round consisted of a brass casing, gunpowder, and a lead projectile, he could manifest them continuously within the magazine. As far as he was concerned, the HK416 had infinite ammo as long as his imagination didn’t tire.

“Dola, behind me. Lun on the flank. Kancil in the middle,” Dayat instructed.

They stepped past heaps of discarded Enchanted-Gold Dwarven armor. The suits were empty. No bones, no flesh. Only expensive metal riddled with large, jagged holes, the edges melted as if by a powerful acid.

“They were consumed… soul and body alike,” Lunethra whispered in horror.

Suddenly, Dola’s internal radar shrieked in Dayat’s head. “WARNING! CONTACT FROM ABOVE!”

Dayat snapped his gaze upward through the green glow of the NVGs. On the ceiling, amidst the tangled network of steam pipes, something was crawling. The creature had a repulsive biological form—damp, wrinkled black skin, limbs that were far too long with dagger-like claws, and a face with no eyes, consisting only of a maw filled with jagged, needle-thin fangs. Oily black smoke billowed from its pores.

A Dretch.

“Shit, they’re already here!” Dayat raised his weapon.

Suddenly, Dola grabbed Dayat’s sleeve, her grip strong enough to make him stumble. Her eyes met his through the goggles with an intensity she had never shown before. “Dayat… do not die. Based on my calculations, if your heartbeat ceases, my existence will no longer have a primary objective. I… I forbid you from leaving me alone in this place.”

Dayat was stunned for a second. That wasn’t an assistant’s protocol. That was raw, unfiltered fear. The 30% of human emotion forming in Dola’s core was screaming.

“I’m not going anywhere, Dola. Trust me,” Dayat answered firmly.

STREEEEKKKK!

A shrill, ear-splitting shriek shattered the silence. One Dretch leaped from the ceiling, followed by dozens more crawling out from the gaps in the steam pipes. Black bile dripped from their mouths, burning the stone floor upon contact.

“Kancil, get down!” Dayat roared.

TATATATATATA!

The HK416 barked in the darkness of the Abyss. The muzzle flashes briefly illuminated the nightmare faces of the monsters. Dayat’s rounds hammered into the chest of the lead Dretch, exploding its black flesh and spraying a foul-smelling dark ichor. But they were being swarmed. They weren’t attacking from one direction; they were encircling from every shadow in the corridor.

“Lun, max your barrier! Dola, paint the targets for me!”

The Dretches continued to crawl closer, closing the exits and the path ahead. They were now trapped in the middle of a narrow corridor filled with black smoke and the stench of death.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep