Chapter 88: Difficult Choice
CLANG—HISS.
The heavy metal blast door slammed shut behind them, sealing off the roar of the magma vents and the distant sounds of Brokk’s team heading left.
Silence descended instantly.
Unlike the main shaft, which was alive with the sound of steam and monsters, the Old Sector was dead quiet. The air here was stale, smelling of rust, ozone, and ancient dust that hadn’t been disturbed in centuries.
"Lumos," Hephaestus whispered, tapping a crystal on his shoulder.
A beam of pale yellow light cut through the absolute darkness, illuminating a long, cylindrical tunnel lined with rusted pipes and massive, dormant cables that hung like dead snakes from the ceiling.
"This way," the Prince whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he checked the map. "The Royal Vault is three kilometers deep. We have to follow the main conduit."
Damien walked beside him, his Shadow Sense fully expanded. The darkness here felt different, heavier, older.
"Relax, Prince," Damien said, his voice calm but low. "Your heart is beating so loud it’s echoing off the walls. You’re an Artificer, not a rogue. Panic is useless here."
"I can’t help it," Hephaestus admitted, gripping his wrench until his knuckles turned white. "This place... it’s a graveyard. My ancestors dug these tunnels during the Era of the Old Kings to mine Star-Metal. But they dug too deep. They found things... voids in the earth that drove miners mad."
Hephaestus shined his light on the wall. Deep claw marks, centuries old and etched into reinforced steel plating, were visible under the dust.
"That’s why King Durin sealed this sector," Hephaestus swallowed hard. "And why he hid the Pantheon Sword here. He figured that if anyone was crazy enough to come down here to steal it, the tunnel ghosts would get them first."