Chapter 24 – The City Beneath the World
The darkness swallowed him.
There was no wind.
No sound.
Only the sensation of falling.
For a brief moment, Sarthak thought he would die.
Then—
Splash.
He crashed into freezing water.
The impact stole the air from his lungs.
His body sank beneath the surface before instinct forced him upward.
He broke through the water, gasping.
“Cough…!”
“Cough…!”
His voice echoed through an endless cavern.
⸻
He swam toward the nearest shore.
Every muscle burned.
The Black Devil remained strapped to his back, impossibly untouched by the water.
As though the river itself refused to touch it.
When Sarthak finally reached solid ground, he collapsed onto cold stone.
His entire body trembled.
Not from fear.
From exhaustion.
⸻
Minutes passed before he managed to stand.
Only then did he truly look around.
His breath caught.
An entire city stretched before him.
Not ruins.
A city.
Massive towers reached toward a ceiling so high it disappeared into darkness.
Stone bridges connected buildings suspended over bottomless chasms.
Gigantic statues lined broad avenues.
Ancient banners, faded by countless centuries, still fluttered despite the absence of wind.
It was impossible.
This place had existed beneath Ashfall City all along.
Hidden beneath the feet of millions.
Yet no one above had ever known.
⸻
“What…”
Sarthak whispered.
“…kind of civilization was this?”
No answer came.
Only silence.
A silence so complete that his own heartbeat sounded foreign.
⸻
He stepped onto the ancient road.
Every building had been carved from black stone.
There were no signs of battle.
No collapsed walls.
No burn marks.
The city hadn’t been destroyed.
It had been…
Abandoned.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
⸻
As he walked deeper inside, he noticed something unsettling.
Doors remained open.
Tables were still set for meals.
Books lay open on desks.
A child’s wooden toy rested beside a fountain.
It looked as though every citizen had simply…
Vanished.
At the same moment.
⸻
The sound of flowing water echoed nearby.
Sarthak followed it until he reached an enormous square.
At its center stood a fountain.
Crystal-clear water continued flowing despite thousands of years having passed.
He knelt.
The water reflected the cavern ceiling…
But not his face.
Instead…
It reflected a young man dressed in ancient black robes.
The stranger slowly smiled.
Sarthak jumped backward.
The reflection vanished.
His own face returned.
“…Hallucination.”
He muttered.
“It has to be.”
Yet…
His heart refused to believe it.
⸻
A deep metallic sound echoed through the city.
Dong…
A bell.
Then another.
Dong…
Twelve times.
Each strike shook the ground.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before.
⸻
Something moved.
Not nearby.
Far away.
Sarthak couldn’t see it.
But he heard it.
Footsteps.
Dozens.
Perhaps hundreds.
Slow.
Perfectly synchronized.
⸻
He immediately hid behind a broken pillar.
The footsteps grew louder.
Then…
They appeared.
Rows upon rows of armored soldiers marched down the ancient avenue.
Every one of them carried a spear.
Every one wore identical black armor.
Every visor remained lowered.
Not a single face was visible.
They marched with flawless discipline.
Yet…
Not one of them breathed.
⸻
Sarthak held his breath.
They were dead.
He was certain.
No living person moved with such unnatural precision.
The legion passed only twenty meters away.
Not one soldier looked toward him.
They simply continued their endless patrol.
As if they were still guarding a city whose people had disappeared millennia ago.
⸻
Only after the last soldier vanished into the darkness did Sarthak exhale.
“What are they?”
A calm voice answered from behind him.
“Sentinels.”
Sarthak spun around.
Standing only a few steps away was an old man.
His beard reached his waist.
He wore simple gray robes.
In one hand he carried a wooden lantern.
In the other…
A broom.
He looked more like a temple caretaker than someone living inside an ancient hidden city.
The old man smiled warmly.
“You hid well.”
“But not well enough.”
⸻
Sarthak instinctively reached for the Black Devil.
The old man shook his head.
“Please don’t.”
“I’ve already cleaned enough blood from these streets.”
“…Who are you?”
The old man looked around the empty city.
After a long silence…
He answered.
“I have forgotten.”
Sarthak frowned.
“You forgot your own name?”
“When one lives long enough…”
The old man chuckled.
“Names become the first thing to disappear.”
⸻
He slowly turned and began walking.
“If you wish to survive…”
“Follow me.”
“If not…”
He glanced toward the distant marching Sentinels.
“…they’ll eventually find you.”
Sarthak hesitated.
He had trusted strangers before.
Master Borin.
Merchant Hallen.
Even Kai.
Each choice had changed his life.
Could he trust another?
⸻
The old man continued walking without looking back.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
Sarthak froze.
“You wonder whether I’m friend or foe.”
The old man smiled.
“Neither.”
“I’m merely…”
“…the last librarian.”
⸻
Those words stirred something within Sarthak.
“A library?”
The old man nodded.
“This city once possessed the greatest library in the world.”
“It contained the history of every kingdom.”
“Every emperor.”
“Every god.”
His eyes grew distant.
“Now…”
“It contains only memories.”
⸻
Sarthak followed.
Not because he trusted the old man.
But because every answer he sought seemed buried within this forgotten city.
Far above…
The silver-haired Seeker stood before the sealed sanctuary.
He placed one hand upon the stone.
A black mist spread across the surface.
Ancient runes awakened.
The seal trembled.
One of the cloaked followers spoke nervously.
“My lord…”
“No one has ever broken a Sanctuary Seal.”
The silver-haired man smiled.
“I know.”
“But every lock…”
“…has a key.”
Deep beneath the earth…
Sarthak walked toward the last library.
Unaware that the prison protecting him…
Was beginning to crack.
End of Chapter 24