Chapter 116: Deep Underground Transit Guide

"So this is the end?" William slapped the rock swelling to block the passage ahead, filled with disbelief and a sense of collapse.

Running his hand over the rock mass bulging in lumps and folds, which rose from the cavern walls and converged in the middle like the marks left by a valve scraping across a popsicle, the excavator's track ended here, yet it was clearly not a blockage caused by collapse.

"No need to be so surprised." If one was accustomed to the various abnormal experiences in the Deep, a passage abruptly cut off was actually less unexpected; Kraft found he was quite adapted to it, and surprises no longer surprised him as much.

"Whether you believe it or not, you can always find unreasonable things here."

"Is there space above here?"

"No, it's solid." Kraft made a slight attempt; the corresponding position in the Present World remained a sound mountain body.

William sat down in a state of collapse on the nearest rock fold, reaching for his waist; there was only an empty scabbard left there, the sword inside probably never retrieved after it slipped from his hand.

Fighting now to turn back was definitely impossible; he held his head against the cold rock to cool his burning forehead, giving him some thoughts. "You just said this place is like the layer of paper underneath?"

"Yes, that's right."

As someone who often had to handle various emergencies, Captain William was not rigid or stupid; under his rugged exterior actually hid a quite flexible mind that helped him survive to this day.

While the body rested, the mind started working, helping him understand the current situation. Unlike someone capable of fighting that thing, he had a greater tendency to stay away.

【To be honest, I've been reading and chasing updates on Wild Fruit Reading recently; switch sources, multiple narration voices, available on Android and iOS at. yeguoyuedu.】

"Actually, we don't necessarily have to return to that paper above for now. If we don't want to have a direct conflict with those things, we just need to leave here. Since there are two papers, can there be a 'third paper' below us?"

Kraft did not deny it; responding with silence, he withdrew his hand to grasp the object inside his sleeve. William realized this line of thinking was correct.

He shut his mouth and waited quietly for the result.

"You are right; there is a cavity below." A moment later, Kraft gave the answer. People often fall into dead ends regarding things they are accustomed to, obsessing over the relationship between the first layer and the Present World, thereby ignoring the parts they are unwilling to contact.

But what did this mean?

"William, I need you to confirm, because you have felt the arrival of that thing one more time than I have."

"What?"

Kraft accessed his memory, recalling the process of feeling the Tunnel Digger approach at the beginning of that experience filled with horn sounds.

"That vibration didn't appear from nothing... it had considerable intensity from the start, didn't it? Suddenly feeling an oscillating source appear in the distance."

Before William could answer, the answer had actually already been reached. Yes, indeed so; for someone with keen senses, this was like a sudden approaching sound appearing on the third floor of an empty building, without the process of entering from the first floor and climbing layer by layer.

It simply appeared at some point within the mountain body, not gradually approaching from a place in the depths that couldn't be felt.

The Excavator certainly couldn't vanish into thin air leaving this dead-end tunnel before them. In his perception, as long as he dove slightly, he could find the tunnel still continued—in the next layer. The "pen tip" pierced through this layer of paper, continuing the "pen stroke" onto another sheet of paper.

"This thing doesn't live in any fixed layer at all! It can drill into another layer; this chaotic tunnel is a transition section."

Even with William's ability to accept things, it took a while to sort out this fact. "So it's a large-scale 'Wizard' like you?"

"I solemnly remind you, calling me a Wizard is fine, but don't compare me with things from the Deep." Kraft walked toward him; one could notice his face was not looking good, though it didn't seem to be due to improper wording.

The orange-red firelight could not conceal the pallor; his temple twitched, as if enduring some special discomfort.

"Need to rest? You don't look right." This state was in no way normal, not due to physical exhaustion. "Spell" usage seemed to have a considerable cost, but out of a reluctance to pry into others' privacy, it was hard to ask further. Who knew what would happen if control was lost midway.

"No, while I can still hold on."

There was no chance to refuse; all of William's words were swallowed by the surging sensory chaos, overflowing strange smells filling his mouth and ears, and the whole person was dragged into an unsettling, long reverse falling sensation.

The scenery this time was no longer static; those rocks that already resembled intestinal folds truly underwent indescribable changes.

It was like cutting open a fish belly and walking away for other matters; returning a while later, those unconstrained oily viscera began to slide around, slightly wriggling and drifting apart, becoming amorphous disgusting matter.

When this change occurred on hard substances that shouldn't exhibit such traits, the dislocation between cognition and fact constantly hammered at solidified common sense, and the existing impression of the rock drifted slightly along with the semi-melted scene.

As the melting reached its peak, this cognitive shift regarding a certain object also strengthened, thereby reflecting on the whole and questioning the correctness of the entire worldview. Like softening a single brick on a city wall, it produced a small but real impact on stability.

Eyelids pressed down, shutting out the counter-intuitive vision. William put away his curiosity; perhaps he would regret abandoning this rare opportunity in the future, but as everyone knows, only the living can tell stories in the tavern; looking further brought no benefit.

Kraft controlled the oscillation direction of the prism, diving deeper; his last visit was due to being accidentally dragged into this layer, and he had not tried probing the second layer since.

The scenery that "faded" in the first layer became even more bland in the mental senses, like squeezing all the water out of a sponge and then finding it could be dried by light and heat, always shedding more "color" to present an even more withered state.

He thought about this problem freely; after the alienated spirit replaced normal senses, chaos could no longer disturb the operation of thought, to the extent that Kraft only realized upon arrival that he had formed a habit.

Whether it was the extra senses, the endless fading, or the layer transition manifested as falling, it required no thought, just like which foot to step forward with when walking, almost becoming part of internalized common sense, with boundaries increasingly merging.

Consciousness traced the origin of this inertia but found no solution, at one moment thinking it started from the first plunge into the tide, and at another believing it came from the decision to dive actively.

Memory had not troubled this habit of treating himself as an archive for too long, so long that he could barely remember what forgetting felt like.

Habit, yet again habit; Kraft couldn't figure out exactly when he had acquired so many habits. He patted and touched his surroundings, trying to find non-existent embedded foreign objects, as if those habitual behaviors had physical substance.

Comparing the transmitted tactile sensation with precise memory, this body had changed nothing; Kraft was still that Kraft, it just seemed the habits had adapted to the Deep.

"Kraft?"

William, discovering the falling sensation had stopped, opened his eyes; the torch had extinguished during the transfer, and they were now immersed in darkness. And during this dangerous time just after landing, Kraft was actually zoning out.

"I thought of some things about myself." His hand released William's thick shoulder; he took out a fire starter to relight the torch. Within the circle of light, the rock folds could be seen twisting in reverse; the way they came from became a gradually narrowing square, while the original dead end opened up and extended.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"Just some things unrelated to the current situation; let's keep moving."

The cave continued to maintain an upward slant; when Kraft's aftereffects subsided slightly, a small colored spot on the rock wall caught his attention.

It was a small patch of dusty yellow that couldn't be rubbed off; this spirit-lifting discovery made people briefly forget the fact of being in the Deep World, and improved their mood as similar yellow patches increased.

They were indeed approaching the surface, moving toward the yellow strata. William excitedly went to touch that dusty yellow, so much so that he didn't show any frustration even when hitting a dead end again.

"I have good news and bad news." Kraft lit a new torch. "The bad news is we don't have many torches left."

"And the good news?"

"This section continues in the layer above; we are going up, in every sense of the word." He gave a tired smile; the situation had turned slightly; perhaps if they kept walking like this, they could float back to the Present World while moving upward.