Chapter 51: The Voice Beneath the Earth.
Hello everyone.
This weekend, I was unable to upload my story as planned.
I sincerely apologize.
The reason was a technical issue on Narou's side,
which prevented the posting process from working properly.
To everyone who was looking forward to it,
I am truly sorry for the inconvenience.
It has now been resolved.
Thank you as always for reading.
We arrived at the suspicious site.
The entrance was a dark opening in the side of a hill, half-hidden by overgrown vines and fallen stones. At first glance, it looked unremarkable. Just a hole in the earth, the sort of place that might lead to an old cellar or a forgotten mine.
But the ground outside told a different story.
Drag marks cut through the dirt. Deep grooves, as though something had been pulled against its will. Abandoned tools lay scattered nearby: picks, shovels, and a broken lantern.
Something was wrong with them.
The wooden handles remained, but their metal components were missing. The blades, the heads, even the small fittings that held the tools together, everything metal had disappeared.
Only the wood was left behind.
And then there were the bloodstains.
Dark patches marked the stones, with smears leading toward the entrance. The blood was dry, but it did not look particularly old.
"A day or two, perhaps," Adelgund murmured after examining one of the stains.
Lira stood a little behind us. She had recovered enough to walk, although she still looked tired. Her eyes remained fixed on the entrance.
"This is where they went?" she asked.
"Possibly," Kaede replied. "We don't know whether it's the same place where your companions disappeared, but the signs suggest something happened here."
Lira lowered her gaze.
"I should have gone with them."
"You were injured," Averhilda reminded her. "And according to what you told us, they left you behind because they thought you would be safer away from this place."
"They also took my equipment."
Her voice was quiet, but there was bitterness beneath it.
No one answered immediately.
We still did not know the whole story. Lira had awakened injured and alone, without her money or belongings. From her perspective, it was hardly surprising that she believed her companions had abandoned her.
But the dying adventurer we had found had given us another account. He had said they left her somewhere they believed safe and intended to return.
Perhaps both accounts contained part of the truth.
For now, the missing adventurers were our priority.
I knelt beside one of the bloodstains and pressed my palm against the earth.
Echoes Vibration.
The ground carried impressions of movement, weight, and rhythm. I felt footsteps passing over this very spot. I felt bodies being dragged across the dirt.
Then I felt something else.
Movement beneath the ground.
Something alive.
Something moving deeper inside the hill.
I opened my eyes.
"There's something underground," I said. "Something alive."
Adelgund tightened her grip on her sword.
"Hostile?"
"I don't know yet."
I stood and closed my eyes again.
Echoes Sight.
The emotional residue left behind by past events washed over me.
Fear.
Panic.
Desperation.
Those feelings were strong enough to make my chest tighten. Whoever had been here had experienced something terrifying.
But beneath those emotions lay another presence.
Something colder. Older.
It did not carry the same frantic desperation as the people who had passed through here. Its emotional trace was slower, quieter, almost impossible to interpret.
I opened my eyes.
"This way."
We entered the hill.
The passage narrowed almost immediately. Damp stone pressed close on either side, and the air smelled of earth, rust, and something mineral. Our footsteps echoed through the twisting tunnels.
Adelgund walked near the front with her sword drawn. Averhilda followed with her spear ready, while Kaede moved quietly, watching every shadow. Albruna held her staff in both hands.
Kónos walked beside me, its button eyes fixed on the darkness ahead.
Lira remained close to Kaede. She was trying to appear calm, but every sudden sound made her shoulders tense.
I couldn't blame her.
She had already been through enough.
We followed the trail until the tunnel ended at a wall of solid stone.
There was no doorway. No visible passage. No gap between the rocks.
Just a dead end.
Adelgund frowned.
"Did we follow the wrong trail?"
"I don't think so," I replied.
Averhilda examined the wall while Kaede searched the surrounding area. They checked the stonework for a concealed switch, a lever, or any other mechanism that might open a secret passage.
They found nothing.
Albruna stepped forward.
"Let me try."
She raised her staff. A pattern of lines and sigils formed in the air, rotating slowly as she murmured an incantation. The spell pulsed once, then again.
The lines shifted, reaching toward the wall as though searching for something to unlock.
Then they faded.
Albruna frowned and tried again.
The same thing happened.
"It's not working," she said. "The wall won't respond. It's almost as though there's nothing here for my magic to open."
I studied the stone.
Echoes Sight stirred at the edge of my awareness. The impression was faint, but it was there.
The wall wasn't hiding a physical mechanism.
It was hiding an entrance.
And the entrance had been sealed by magic.
I remembered the Library of Atalinthus.
Its door had not opened when I tried to force it. It had responded only when I offered the first spark, the harmony of light and shadow.
The memory remained vivid. I could still remember the feeling of standing before that ancient door, my G-Pen in hand, trying to understand something that was older than anything I had known.
Perhaps this wall required the same understanding.
"Let me try," I said.
Albruna stepped aside, curiosity replacing some of her frustration.
I placed my palm against the stone.
The G-Pen materialized in my hand. Its familiar weight settled against my fingers, and its quiet hum steadied my thoughts.
Light and shadow.
Two opposing forces, yet neither could exist without the other.
I began to draw.
A circle formed in the air before me. Its lines were woven from light and shadow, each strand flowing into the next. Neither overwhelmed the other. They moved together, creating a pattern that seemed to belong to the space between them.
The ink glowed.
I pushed the circle toward the wall.
For a moment, nothing happened.
The stone remained solid.
Then a faint line appeared.
It stretched upward, forming the outline of a tall, narrow doorway. The stone inside the outline grew translucent, then transparent, as though the wall itself were remembering that it had once been open.
Finally, the entrance revealed itself.
Everyone stared.
Albruna lowered her staff.
"I've never seen magic like that before."
"Neither have I," Averhilda admitted.
Adelgund glanced from the doorway to me.
"Can you explain how you did that?"
I considered the question.
I could explain what I had remembered. I could describe the circle and the harmony of light and shadow.
But I couldn't honestly say that I understood the magic itself.
"It's my magic," I answered at last. "I'm still learning what it can do."
Kaede gave me a small nod, as if that answer was enough for now.
Lira, however, was staring at the open doorway.
"Do you think they're inside?"
"I hope so," I said.
I took a breath and stepped through.
The others followed.
***
Beyond the doorway lay a vast underground chamber.
The ceiling disappeared into darkness, while mineral deposits glittered along the walls. The air was warmer here, carrying the faint smell of stone and metal.
And the chamber was full of creatures.
They were small, about the size of my hand, with shells covered in fragments of stone and metal. At first, I thought they were ordinary turtles, but their shells were too rough and irregular. Pieces of iron, copper, and other minerals had become embedded in their surfaces.
Some crawled between the rocks. Others gathered near piles of metal and mineral deposits, their shells blending into the surrounding stone.
They watched us with small, dark eyes.
But they did not attack.
I clench my G-Pen.
The bloodstains outside. The missing metal tools. These strange creatures collecting metal for their shells.
It was easy to connect the clues.
Too easy, perhaps.
"Are those the things that took the metal?" Adelgund whispered.
"They might be," I said. "But we don't know whether they attacked the adventurers."
"Should we drive them away?" Averhilda asked.
"No."
She looked at me.
"They haven't attacked us," I continued. "Let's not give them a reason to."
The small creatures remained where they were, watching us pass. One moved closer to Kónos, stretching its little neck toward the doll's feet.
Kónos stopped.
The creature stopped, too.
For a moment, the two of them simply stared at each other.
Then Kónos tilted its head.
The little creature withdrew behind a rock.
I almost smiled.
Even underground, Kónos managed to make friends, or at least confuse people.
I activated Echoes Vibration again.
The ground carried the movements of dozens of tiny bodies. Their footsteps were light and irregular, but none of them seemed to be approaching us with hostile intent.
They were waiting.
Not for an opportunity to attack.
For something else.
I sensed a deeper rhythm farther inside the chamber.
Slow.
Steady.
Enormous.
The vibrations were so deep that I almost mistook them for the natural movement of the earth. Yet they repeated with a deliberate rhythm, like the breathing of something that had slept beneath the ground for a very long time.
I turned toward the far end of the chamber.
"There's something else here."
Adelgund raised her sword again.
"Something bigger?"
"Much bigger."
We continued forward, leaving the smaller creatures behind.
The passage narrowed. The ceiling lowered, and the air grew warmer. With every step, the deep rhythm became clearer.
Lira moved closer to Kaede.
"Whatever is down here," she whispered, "I hope it isn't what attacked my companions."
"I hope so, too," I replied.
But I wasn't certain.
The vibrations grew stronger.
Then we reached the far end of the chamber.
And found it.
The being was enormous, larger than any creature I had encountered beneath the earth. Its shell was layered with stone and metal, each layer thick and ancient. Strange patterns covered its surface, shifting subtly as the light moved across them.
Its legs resembled pillars of rock. Its head turned toward us with slow, deliberate movement.
It looked like a turtle.
But calling it a turtle felt as inadequate as calling the Fairy King an ordinary person.
This creature belonged to something older.
Something that had existed long before we arrived.
Adelgund drew her sword fully. Averhilda raised her spear, and Albruna's staff began to glow. Kaede's hand settled on the hilt of her blade.
Lira stepped back.
Kónos moved in front of her.
I raised my hand.
"Wait."
"Elsbeth," Adelgund said quietly, "we don't know what that thing is."
"I know."
"Then why are you telling us to lower our weapons?"
"Because I don't think it wants to attack us."
I wasn't certain how I knew. The creature's size alone should have made me cautious.
But its movements carried no immediate aggression. Its attention rested on us, curious and patient.
I reached out with my senses.
Echoes Sight.
Echoes Vibration.
Both abilities activated at once.
At first, I felt the familiar sensations separately. The ground carried the creature's weight and movement, while Echoes Sight revealed the emotional traces surrounding it.
Then something changed.
The two sensations began to overlap.
The vibration was no longer simply movement. It carried a feeling.
Curiosity.
Caution.
A quiet awareness of our presence.
The creature's emotional state seemed to ripple through the ground, and the ground's rhythm gave shape to its thoughts. For an instant, I felt as though I were standing inside an enormous heartbeat.
The chamber faded from my awareness.
Not completely. I could still hear my companions shifting behind me. I could still feel the G-Pen in my hand.
But the creature's presence became clearer than anything else.
Its thoughts moved slowly, like continents drifting across the earth.
And somehow, I understood them.
You are not like the others.
The impression was unmistakable.
You hear.
My breath caught.
I opened my eyes.
"I can hear you," I whispered.
Behind me, someone inhaled sharply.
The creature tilted its head.
You hear.
"Yes."
"Elsbeth?" Kaede asked carefully. "What are you doing?"
I didn't answer immediately. I was afraid that if I turned away, even for a moment, I might lose the strange connection forming between us.
The creature communicated through impressions rather than words. I sensed its curiosity, its caution, and the slow patience of something that had watched the world change around it.
It was not hostile.
It was trying to understand us.
"Hello," I said.
The word sounded absurdly small in that enormous chamber.
But the creature did not seem to mind.
Adelgund's sword wavered.
"Are you talking to it?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"I'm not entirely sure."
"That is not a reassuring answer," Averhilda muttered.
I would have agreed with her under different circumstances.
The creature shifted one of its massive legs. The ground trembled beneath us, and Lira stumbled.
Kónos caught her before she fell.
"I'm all right," she whispered, steadying herself against the doll.
I glanced back to make sure she was safe, then returned my attention to the creature.
It had not moved toward us. Its thoughts remained calm.
I tried to focus on the question that mattered most.
"The people who came here before us," I said. "What happened to them?"
The creature's response arrived as a sequence of impressions.
Anger.
Fear.
Violence.
Then images began to form in my mind.
I saw a group of adventurers entering the chamber. They carried weapons and lanterns. Their movements were hurried, their attention fixed on the smaller creatures.
One of the adventurers struck at a creature near a pile of metal.
Another followed.
The little beings scattered.
Then they fought back.
The images shifted. I saw the adventurers surrounded by dozens of small bodies, their weapons striking stone-covered shells. I felt their panic as the creatures swarmed around them.
The humans had entered this place armed and ready for battle.
They had attacked first.
I drew a slow breath.
"You didn't attack them," I said.
The creature's answer was deliberate.
They attacked first.
I turned toward my companions.
"It says the humans attacked its minions. The smaller creatures were threatened, so they fought back to protect themselves."
Adelgund lowered her sword slightly.
"You're certain?"
"I saw what happened through its memories. Or impressions, at least. I can't promise I understand everything, but it believes the adventurers attacked first."
Albruna studied the smaller creatures.
"They never attacked us."
"Exactly," I said.
Lira looked troubled.
"Then the adventurers caused the fight?"
"That's what the creature showed me."
She lowered her eyes.
"Perhaps they thought the creatures were dangerous."
"Perhaps," Kaede said. "But thinking something is dangerous doesn't automatically make attacking it the right choice."
No one argued.
I looked around the chamber again. The small creatures were still watching us. Some had returned to their piles of metal. Others had gathered close together, their shells catching the faint light.
They had been living here long before we arrived.
We had entered their home armed and prepared to fight, just as the other adventurers had.
The difference was that we had stopped to listen.
I turned back to the ancient creature.
"The missing adventurers," I said. "Where are they now?"
The creature's thoughts shifted.
I felt movement, a path descending through the earth. The impression was faint at first, but it gradually became clearer: a tunnel leading deeper underground, beyond the chamber where we stood.
Then came another image.
The adventurers being taken along that path.
Not necessarily by the smaller creatures. The memory was unclear, and I couldn't tell who—or what—had carried them away.
"Taken where?" I asked.
The creature answered with a direction.
Deeper into the earth.
I opened my eyes and looked at my companions.
"They were taken farther underground. There's another passage."
"Are they alive?" Lira asked.
I hesitated.
The creature's impressions did not give me a clear answer.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I couldn't see what happened after they were taken."
Lira's expression tightened, but she nodded.
"Then we should keep looking."
"We will," Adelgund assured her.
I turned back toward the creature, hoping to ask for more information.
But the ancient being's attention had shifted.
It was no longer studying the party as a whole.
It was focused on me.
A strange uneasiness stirred beneath my ribs.
"What is it?" I asked.
The creature's thoughts came slowly, carrying a sensation I had not felt from it before.
Recognition.
Not of my face.
Not of my name.
You carry something that hides you.
The thought came with a strange sensation, as though the creature were not examining the pendant itself but sensing the magic woven into it.
A borrowed silence. A fading boundary.
I touched the pendant around my neck.
How could it know what the Fairy King had given me?
It had been given to me to conceal my presence from the elementals. Unlike the ring I had once worn, its protection was not as strong, but it had been enough to keep them from sensing me.
At least, that was what I had believed.
I looked down at the dark surface resting against my clothes.
"What about it?"
The creature's thoughts rippled through the ground.
It is cracked.
I turned the pendant over in my hand.
At first, I saw nothing unusual. Its surface was smooth and dark, just as I remembered.
Then I noticed a thin line.
A hairline fracture crossed one side of the pendant, so faint that I might have mistaken it for a mark in the material.
My fingers went still.
It weakens.
The ancient creature's warning carried no panic, only certainty.
Soon, they will sense you again.
My blood ran cold.
The elementals.
The pendant was supposed to conceal me from them. If its protection was failing, then whatever had been unable to find me might soon discover where I was.
How long had the pendant been weakening?
Had the crack appeared recently, or had it been growing for weeks without my noticing?
And why could this creature sense the damage when I had not?
"Elsbeth?" Kaede asked.
I looked up.
She had noticed the change in my expression. So had Adelgund and Albruna. Even Lira was watching me with concern.
"What's wrong?" Kaede asked.
I closed my fingers around the pendant.
"I'm not sure yet."
It wasn't entirely a lie.
I knew what the creature had warned me about. I knew what the pendant was meant to protect me from.
But I didn't know how much time I had left.
The ancient being watched me in silence.
I looked down at the hairline fracture once more.
A crack I had never noticed.
A crack that had been growing, slowly and silently, while I had been looking elsewhere.
For the first time since leaving the Fairy Realm, I wondered whether the protection the Fairy King had given me was only temporary.
And whether the elementals were already beginning to sense me.
What happened to the adventurers...
It will be revealed next week.
Stay tuned.
