Vol 3. Chapter 37: The Entrance

“My dear great-granny—aaah!!” As the weightlessness hit right after he lost his balance, Vinny went chalk-white and screamed.

He looked down. The quicksand hell was right beneath his feet, and he was closing fast—less than a second to kiss that monstrous sand-beast.

What the—?! The palace floor quality is this bad?? Your young master hasn’t even decided whether to go down yet!!

Same story again: before he could finish agonizing over his next move, that old hag, the Goddess of Dawn, made the decision for him.

Total grief-play!!

The quicksand below clawed up at him like a beast’s paw. Vinny, flailing in midair, was on the verge of stress-panting. If not for Vanessa’s anemia still being in recovery—and popping out would be useless—he would’ve reflexively switched to Vanessa and tried to fly with [Immaculate Saintfeather].

Goddess above—if this goes wrong, he really will see Great-Granny waving!

“Aaaahhh!” He didn’t know how long it had been—he felt suspended the whole time. When he fell, it had felt fast—just an instant. Now it felt like he was hanging there, neither up nor down.

What is going on?? This is torture! If he’s going to fall, let him fall already—don’t do him like this!

Ahhh—karma, huh. You play games long enough, they play you back. Camella’s Idea King, Camella’s Torture King—one day he gets tortured too.

Quit it, quit it—he’s got acrophobia! Don’t just leave him dangling like this!

One glance down was an endless abyss of quicksand, reminding him every second that he was out of time, that he was already falling. No human could stand this.

I’m done. Just shark me already!

Wait—why is he still falling? How deep and high is this quicksand vortex?!

Ugh, fine, fine—slow is fine. Take your time, elder. Your young master’s closing his eyes for a catnap first.

But Vinny’s resilience and adaptability were what they were. After a short while he got used to it, accepted reality, and let it all go.

Yeah yeah—if he’s going to fall, he’ll fall. He can’t stop it anyway. Whatever.

With that 佛系 mindset, Vinny soon slid to the valley bottom. The sand kicked up by the flow choked him into coughing fits.

Hey—this is seriously unsanitary, okay? Trying to suffocate him??

Vinny summoned [Armor Fortress] and cast [Ice Skin] to block the grit. Armor Fortress plus the ice-slick on the outside could serve as a breathing filter.

“Hff—hff—hff!” After falling this long and still not getting swallowed by the quicksand, Vinny grasped how enormous this abyss was. It looked close by eye, but he’d freefallen forever without touching it—proof of its sheer scale.

If all this used to be underground palace, then the Marsmo royal palace was terrifyingly vast—shockingly so. How much slave blood and sweat did it take to stack this into being?

While he was spacing out, he finally hit bottom—or at least touched the yellow-sand hell beneath.

Took long enough. The instant he brushed that colossal quicksand cauldron, he was a speck in a storm—no suspense at all—dragged straight in.

Like approaching a black hole: through a scope at extreme range it looks small; only up close do you grasp how huge and how terrifying it really is.

So it was with this heaving quicksand abyss. From above, big, yes—but how big you couldn’t tell. Only when you neared it did you understand how tiny you were.

Vinny swallowed.

Okay, he was still terrified—especially now, sucked into this black-hole-like vortex, sand on all sides, a tsunami of grit drowning him.

He couldn’t breathe.

Vinny might barely count as a regional strongman now, newly advanced to Magus—but in the face of a sandstorm vortex like this, he was helpless.

The Token would protect him—he knew he wouldn’t die—but he still flinched.

No—no way. He was a junior Magus, at least! How could a quicksand vortex beat him this easily??

Vinny got mad. He flared.

Just a sandstorm of unknown cause thinks it can hold a Magus-class fighter??

Take my [Annihilating Heavy Stomp]!

He was about to fire the [Armor Fortress] Magus-tier magic when he realized a serious problem: that move needed both feet planted. No ground, no leverage, no cast.

Damn it. Then taste his [Frost and Snow Engulfing Flame]!

Per the [Frost and Snow Engulfing Flame] instructions, Vinny drew a deep breath and blasted downward. In a heartbeat his face was overlaid by a frost-ghost mask—azure-eyed, cold fire burning—fangs bared. Snow-white ghostflame roared from his mouth, a dawn-lance through the sand below, freezing it into a heap of ice shards.

Not only that, the surrounding sand, struck by brutal cold, froze solid— even the raging wind paused for a heartbeat.

Scary power! So this is what a Magus with [Exceptional] affinity can unleash?

It worked—he did it!

A former cannon-fodder villain, walking the straight road to reach this? That was a win!

Yet before he could spit a few more mouthfuls of cold flame, the frost-ghost mask vanished—replaced under [Armor Fortress] by a mask of pain.

What—why did two blasts tap out? Out of mana? Impossible. He was a junior Magus now—a noble Magus—no way he bottomed out that fast.

In fact, it wasn’t mana. [Frost and Snow Engulfing Flame] was a high-tier spell with steep requirements and heavy cost, sure—but not enough to drain a Magus in two puffs.

The reason it cut off—went on cooldown—was a second condition.

Yes, the cast requirement was [Exceptional] ice affinity. But the spell’s power—and duration—were tied to fire affinity.

Well, yeah—it’s called [Frost and Snow Engulfing Flame]. Tied to two elements makes sense. Its essence is ice—hence the ice requirement—but it manifests as flame, so the other factors scale on fire affinity.

Makes sense... but also—

Whoever developed this spell had issues, right??

Ice and fire are opposing elements. People with both high ice and high fire affinity? How many unicorns like that exist in the world??

No wonder he’d never heard of it despite it being a high-tier spell. Who can meet those demands?

Well—okay, there is one person right next to him.

But that’s an exception among exceptions. Cheat-character doesn’t count.

Either way, [Frost and Snow Engulfing Flame] hit cooldown, and he was wholly pulled into the quicksand, spinning round and round.

Spin, leap, eyes closed.

Still dizzy as hell!

He felt like he’d been thrown into a giant blender, twirling with the muck and sand. Even with his eyes shut, the world reeled.

Nope—he was going to puke.

Where was he now? Whatever—no need to open his eyes. If he did, it’d just be a full screen of yellow sand and nothing else.

Not just nausea—he was about to suffocate.

This was torture. He was going to die!

Token? Rescue? Didn’t they say if he was in danger it’d boot him back to the Anchor??

He didn’t know how long he was churned. His vision dimmed; the world darkened; even the space around him felt like it was quietly changing.

He had no idea how long that unbearable state lasted when—suddenly—his feet seemed to touch something solid.

Huh? Solid underfoot? What—did he hit bottom?

That shouldn’t be. This quicksand hell didn’t look shallow at all. Drowning here would be normal.

But that feel of ground underfoot—security surged, and Vinny’s focus snapped back. He concentrated—and fired [Annihilating Heavy Stomp].

“BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!” A wind-splitting crack, and Vinny burst through the sandstorm. His legs slammed down, stomping into solid ground, carving a web of savage fissures. Sand exploded everywhere.

Ah. So that’s it.

Watching the storm and dust swirl around him—thinking back to sinking deeper and deeper, groping for balance amidst the flow—Vinny had a realization.

Maybe he could borrow from the earlier sandstorm and refine [Annihilating Heavy Stomp], make it deadlier—more persistent?

What doesn’t kill him makes him stronger. Drawing inspiration from nature and enemies—so that’s what epiphany feels like?

For once, inspiration struck. He stared at his hands, replaying the moment of insight, thoughtful.

Yes. That feeling—just catch it! The sandstorm couldn’t do anything to him, right?

If he did that, then he could...

“Vinny, didn’t I tell you to wait on the ledge for me?” A familiar voice came from behind him.

Vinny jumped, then, recognizing who it was, swung toward the white-haired girl.

Compared to his plume-askew state—sand pouring from every seam in his armor, an utter mess—the sandstorm hadn’t touched Aesphyra. Her clothes were immaculate; every strand of hair as it had been before; not a grain of sand on her.

“Whoa! You white-haired nut ball—why are you here too?? Trying to scare me?!” Vinny backpedaled a few steps.

“No one’s trying to scare you, Vinny. So why did you insist on coming down?” Aesphyra tilted her head.

“Tch. Pocket-Sized Bun, why do you care what your young master does? You came down too, didn’t you? You both flew off and left me there—so I came down. What about it? Only you’re allowed?”

“Vinny, are you top five in the year?” Aesphyra arched a brow.

“I’m not—so what? Rank discrimination now? Strict hierarchies, huh?” Vinny snorted. Getting needled annoyed him; getting needled by Aesphyra annoyed him more.

“If you two can come down, why can’t your young master?”

“But Vinny, if you came down, could you guarantee your own safety?” Aesphyra asked plainly.

“Why couldn’t I? If you’re going there, then I’ve got to bring up last time, huh? And for your information, not only am I fine—I had an epiphany. An epiphany, you hear? Do you even get it?”

“Anyway—where is this?” Vinny finally remembered to ask where they were.

“Here? The explanation’s a bit complex, and you might not follow, Vinny.” Aesphyra turned away; the black bow at the back of her head swayed with the motion. She clearly didn’t want to argue this topic anymore.

“Tch—are you slandering your young master’s IQ?”

“Vinny, keep your voice down now—unless you want to wake certain things that sleep here.”

“Ah?” Vinny blinked, instantly dropping his volume. He started taking in their surroundings. Visibility was poor—only a few torches for light—and on all sides, dark stone bricks rose in stacks.

Those bricks were covered in dense writing—several lines per brick. Some had four or five lines; some only three; some a single line.

Vinny first assumed there was a pattern. On closer look—none. What’s more, every inscription was different—almost nothing repeated.

“What... is this place?” Vinny’s face twisted. A chill crept up his spine.

Straight ahead, a familiar black-haired girl stood before a massive gate-threshold, deep in thought. Two familiar statues flanked it: the many-limbed, one-eyed, four-faced deity symbolizing Continuance, and the tail-biting brass serpent symbolizing Eternity.

That strange, colossal threshold was carved all over with bizarre script—like a contract book thrown open.

Vinny thought for a moment—then his eyes widened slightly. “Could this be... the entrance buried deep within the secret realm?”

“Not fully confirmed.” Aesphyra shook her head, then added, “But the odds are very high.”