Chapter 49: The Mines of Despair

With a clang, the prison door swung open.

Aric, who had been feigning sleep against the wall, stirred at the sound, lifting his bruised face to gaze at the entrance.

Standing there was the very Scarred Man who had beaten him.

“Crunch—”

The Scarred Man took a bite of a red fruit, a spray of juice escaping.

“Elf, get up now! You’ve got work to do,” he snarled, a wide grin revealing slightly yellowed teeth as he stepped into the cell and approached Aric.

“Work? What kind of work?”

Easily hoisted to his feet by the Scarred Man, Aric demanded in a low voice.

“Heh, you’ll know when we get there.”

Finishing the apple, the Scarred Man casually tossed the core to the ground and gave Aric a forceful shove, nearly sending him sprawling.

Though he longed to resist, Aric, with his magic suppressed, swallowed his burning rage and lowered his gaze slightly, fixing it on the ground.

****

After what felt like an eternity,

dazzling light assaulted Aric’s eyes, causing him to squint before slowly opening them once they had adjusted.

Scanning his surroundings, Aric realized the blinding light came from oil lamps hanging in rows along the walls.

As he observed the labyrinthine network of passages, Aric felt a sense of disorientation; he was, without a doubt, in a hollowed-out subterranean cavern.

“Hurry up, Elf.”

The Scarred Man impatiently shoved Aric again.

Aric clenched his jaw, ignoring the man, and maintained his deliberate pace, walking in silence.

Eventually, after traversing countless passages, Aric was led by the Scarred Man into a mine shaft.

At the entrance, he watched countless figures, each radiating an aura of desolate numbness, swing their mining tools. Aric’s heart slowly sank into despair.

Orcs, elves, trolls, and even dwarves? Why were so many races gathered here?

“Hey, Elf, what are you thinking about?”

Aric snapped back to reality as the Scarred Man clapped him on the shoulder.

“N-nothing…” Aric mumbled, his voice hoarse.

“Tsk, good then.” The Scarred Man clicked his tongue and led the Elf towards a high platform.

Upon reaching the platform, Aric saw a figure wearing a goat-face mask, looking down at the people below, who were tirelessly swinging their mining tools.

“Deacon, I’ve brought the man!”

The Scarred Man bowed slightly, a fawning smile on his face.

The Goat-Masked Figure turned, not looking at him, but at Aric instead.

“What have you seen?”

Aric’s expression was puzzled at the Goat-Masked Figure’s abrupt and baffling question.

A silence descended upon the platform.

The Goat-Masked Figure, having waited patiently for Aric’s answer, seemed to grow impatient and waved a hand as if shooing a fly.

“Enough. Send this fellow to mine for us.”

“Yes, Deacon!” The Scarred Man’s smile turned even more obsequious as he quickly led Aric down from the platform.

After the Scarred Man and Aric had departed, the Goat-Masked Figure cast their gaze upwards at the rock ceiling.

For some reason, they were plagued by a terrible premonition.

****

“Here, kid, take this.” Below the platform, the Scarred Man retrieved an iron shovel from his magic-infused space and casually handed it to Aric. “Remember, if you dig up one of these, bring it to me or the Deacon above. And don’t even think about escaping, or you’ll face severe consequences. Also, if you truly want to leave, you’ll need to mine a thousand jin of this crystal.”

His ropes had been removed, but Aric now wore shackles. He silently took the shovel, watching as the Scarred Man produced three crystals of varying colors from his magic-infused space.

The Scarred Man withdrew the crystals, and once he felt he had given sufficient instructions, he turned and left without a backward glance.

“Magic ore? Is it that easy to find? A thousand jin? Just say you don’t want me to leave,” Aric murmured under his breath once the Scarred Man was out of earshot.

“Hey, new guy, what are you staring at? Get over here and start working!”

From a short distance away, a man holding a long whip, ready to lash anyone caught slacking, bellowed loudly upon seeing Aric standing motionless.

At the sound, Aric, holding his shovel, reluctantly joined the throng and began digging into the rock face.

****

“And then what? How did you escape?” Qi Lin asked, watching Aric take a cup and drink water.

Aric took a sip of water, clearing his throat, and replied with a bitter smile.

“My escape was purely accidental, but I must be incredibly grateful for that accident. Without it, I might still be toiling away in that mine!”

“An accident? What kind of accident?” Nia, unable to contain her curiosity, pressed him.

“Those guys… they had an internal conflict. Though, I’m not entirely sure if it was truly an internal conflict.”

Recalling that bitter memory, Aric sighed with a touch of melancholy.

****

Clang, clang, clang—the incessant sound of mining tools striking rock echoed through the cavern.

Only a week had passed, yet Aric felt utterly numb. Despite having gleaned information about the place from others, he remained trapped.

When would these lightless days finally end?!

Aric, his heart filled with despair, mechanically swung his shovel, striking the rock layer.

Just as Aric was lost in thought, a sudden, explosive sound erupted from the high platform.

The various races, who had been diligently digging for crystals, immediately ceased their work and collectively looked towards the platform.

“Bastard! What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to defy your superiors, huh?”

The Goat-Masked Figure, clutching a chest gushing with blood, glared furiously at the man standing a few meters away.

“Mmm-hmm-hmm~” The man, whose face was half-obscured, wagged a single finger, negating the Goat-Masked Figure’s words. “I assure you, I am not defying my superiors!”

“Not defying? Ha, Leimor, you tell me you’re not? Then what exactly are you doing right now?”

The Goat-Masked Figure gritted his teeth and roared, suppressing the agonizing pain in his chest.

“It’s quite simple, really: cleaning house. Why?” Leimor spread his hands, his eyes narrowed slightly, as he looked down at the trembling Goat-Masked Figure.

“‘Cleaning house,’ you say? I am a Deacon, and you? A mere missionary!”

“Is that so? Perhaps you should take a look at your own church insignia?”

Seeing Leimor’s confident demeanor, the Goat-Masked Figure’s pupils contracted slightly, then he anxiously pulled out the symbol of his church position from his pocket.

Staring at the insignia, now shattered into two halves in his hand, the Goat-Masked Figure nearly collapsed to the ground.

His church insignia, representing his position as Deacon, was broken?

This meant… he had been abandoned by the church!

‘No, impossible. Even if I haven’t achieved great merit, I’ve toiled hard. The church wouldn’t abandon me.’

Clenching the hand that held the insignia, the Goat-Masked Figure’s exposed eyes, above the mask, glowed with red and blue light.

“Fake! It’s all fake! This must be your doing, it must be!”

Roaring, the Goat-Masked Figure lunged at Leimor.

“Old man, you’re old. It’s time to step aside,” Leimor said calmly, easily dodging the Goat-Masked Figure’s attack by merely shifting his body.

“Wouldn’t it be better to return to the embrace of our God? Leave this position to us young ones!”

Leimor’s right hand formed a blade-like shape, and before the Goat-Masked Figure could react, he plunged it directly into the old man’s stomach.

With a sickening squelch, vibrant, still-warm blood splattered onto the ground.

A trickle of blood escaped the corner of his mouth as the Goat-Masked Figure knelt on the ground.

“Old man, slowly enjoy your final moments!”

Leimor whispered into the Goat-Masked Figure’s ear, then decisively ripped off the mask. With the swagger of a victorious rooster, he strode away.

“Leimor… I swear we are irreconcilable…” The Goat-Masked Figure, his aged face now exposed, glared at Leimor’s slowly retreating back.

“You should worry about how much longer you have to live, old man! Oh, I forgot to mention, once you’re truly gone, I’ll come back to take over your work. For now, I’ll let you perish on this platform, giving you a proper end.”

Leimor waved his hand, a malicious smile on his face, before vanishing from the old man’s sight.

Leimor’s infuriating words caused the old man to violently吐 out another mouthful of hot blood.

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