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Chapter 806: An “Egg”

“It appears the worm found its lair.”

The moment the basket reached the bottom, Agatha raised her Stone of Lighting and swept it around the cave. The crease between her brows deepened. “Fran isn’t here?”

“I’ve checked every corner.” Lightning had already circled the space. “The Blackstone Pagoda seems to be wedged across the hole — its two ends are rooted in opposite walls, like a bridge. There are empty spaces on either side. Could Fran have fallen from the top and rolled off to one side?”

The diamond-shaped stone tower did span the deep shaft, lodged in the rock with both ends buried. No sign of the tentacle demon or the Multi-eyed Demon anywhere.

Nightingale stepped from the Mist. “The tower doesn’t affect my ability.”

“But you can’t walk through it the way you walk through stone.” Agatha crouched and formed an ice piton, then flung it at the Blackstone Pagoda. The piton shattered. The tower held. “There is a rumor that the tower is constructed from God’s Stones of Retaliation. It doesn’t suppress magic on the scale of the prism stones, but it blocks it.”

Elena corrected her in a quieter voice. “It doesn’t so much contain God’s Stones as produce them. Corrosive magic power can alter the mineral veins of the magic stones and shape them into rectangular tablets. Only veins born beneath the Bloody Moon can generate Red Mist. The others simply slow the mist’s dissipation. This was classified knowledge during the Union era. We learned it from Lady Eleanor after Taquila fell.”

Nightingale’s displeasure was visible. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“You didn’t tell me there would be a demon spire,” Elena said sharply. “There are countless things that could potentially affect magic. I could not have known which one it would be.”

Lightning slipped between them before the exchange could go further. “We still have to keep going down. We haven’t reached the actual bottom yet. I dove below the pagoda a little while ago and heard running water — there may be an underground river. If Fran fell off the side of the tower, she might still be alive somewhere down there.”

Elena’s voice lifted at once. “Is it possible Sylvie couldn’t locate Fran because of that river? The stone tower blocking most of the Eye of Magic’s vision—”

“Very likely.” Agatha straightened. “If the current took Fran downstream, her magic signature would move outside Sylvie’s field of view.” She turned to Lightning. “Go up and inform Wendy. Have her tell Margie to send additional God’s Punishment Witches down here — and more First Army soldiers. They should post sentries at this level as well. We’ll continue the search.”

Lightning nodded. “Leave it to me.”


With the gondola and the Magic Ark working together, they had enough people below within the hour.

Lightning used the interval to descend further past the Blackstone Pagoda. The cave walls began to slope outward, and the air grew damp against her face. Thirty or forty meters below the pagoda’s level, the stone opened into a wide underground river.

Snowmelt trickled down the cave walls and pooled before cascading into a thundering waterfall that poured down in torrents from the cave mouth. When Lightning drew close enough, a crisp chill played across her cheeks.

The moist air had given the cave floor its own private ecosystem: mosses and mushrooms clustered across the rock, one species of which glowed a ghostly blue that pooled across the surrounding stone. Without any Stone of Lighting at all, Lightning could make out the outline of the cave in that quiet light. Fireflies drifted near the water’s edge. The underground space felt like another world entirely — quiet and strange and lit from within.

When the ark brought the witches and the Taquila survivors down to this level, they all stopped and looked.

“If only we could grow those glowing plants in Neverwinter,” Nightingale said. “Everyone would be able to see in the dark.”

“Let’s bring some back and try!” Lightning rubbed her hands. Discovering and cultivating new species was one of the most reliable pleasures of exploration. Sugar cane and corn had both been carried to the Fjords from distant islands by explorers long before her time. She had no idea whether these luminous mushrooms and cattail fruits were edible — but she intended to find out.

Agatha counted heads. “Let’s finish our business first. Margie, stay at this level and help the First Army establish a sentry post. Everyone else, we continue along the underground river. If Fran has moved more than two miles downstream, we will pitch temporary camp.” She paused to let anyone object. Nobody did.

The company pressed on.

Once inside the limestone passages, the roar of the rushing water bounced off every surface — a deep, continuous thunder that made conversation difficult. Lightning stayed close to the group.

“Can the devouring worm swim?” Agatha asked.

Elena shook her head. “No one has seen it do so. But the creature is enormous. Even if the current carried it some distance, it shouldn’t be far from the drop point.”

A God’s Punishment Witch — Lightning recalled her name as Zooey — spoke up: “Do you know where this river comes from? Where it leads?”

Nightingale answered from beside Lightning’s shoulder. “If I’m remembering correctly — it flows toward us from the south and heads into the snow mountain from the north. Which means it originates somewhere in the Western Region and flows into the southern hills.”

It was common knowledge that the underground water table beneath His Majesty’s domain was extensive, but Lightning had always wondered where all those buried rivers ultimately went. The south had no surface rivers to show for it.

She was still turning the question over when something moved on the rock ahead.

“Wait — there’s something there.” She stopped and pointed.

Everyone halted. Weapons came up.

Nightingale gave a slow, careful answer. “No magic reaction — but there is something. Hold on.” She moved closer, then paused. “It looks like a dome shape. A semi-sphere of some kind. Like an… egg?”

“An egg?” Agatha was skeptical.

“No magic power, so no immediate threat.” Elena gestured to the God’s Punishment Witches with her. “Fan out.”

They surrounded the object quickly. When Lightning moved close with her Stone of Lighting and studied it, her brow furrowed.

A layer of gray skin clung to the rock, almost perfectly camouflaged against the cave wall. She leaned in and the Stone threw its light across the surface, revealing dozens of tiny stomas opening and shutting in slow, rhythmic cycles.

It was breathing.

Elena recoiled with a barely muffled sound of disgust. “What in the — what is this?”

“If it really is an egg,” Lightning said, measuring the span with her fingers, “then what laid it must be considerable. This skin is roughly three meters across. The swollen center alone could house a full-grown dairy cow.”

“The shape—” Zooey’s voice changed. She drew her longsword and drove it through the skin in one fierce thrust, then dragged it upward.

A gush of slick liquid poured out. The cave wall shook with a piercing shriek, and then a dark shape tumbled free of the split membrane and collapsed to the ground.

Lightning stared.

It was a Mad Demon.

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