Extra To Protagonist-Chapter 58: Demonic continent (2)
The ground crunched beneath his boots.
It wasn't stone, not really. Something between sand and bone dust. Every step left an imprint that faded too fast, like the land refused to remember him.
'Good. That means it'll forget my scent too.'
He kept his steps light. Even. Always watching the skyline.
The east ridge wasn't far—but distance lied on this continent. Nothing stayed still. The horizon tilted. Shapes twisted under shadow. What looked like fifty meters could stretch like chewing gum if the land decided it wanted to see you suffer.
'Anchor your mana Merlin..'
He pressed his palm lightly to the ground. A flicker of wind affinity surged down through the soil—a soft pulse. It came back clean. No distortion underfoot. The space was real.
For now.
He kept moving.
Twenty minutes in, the slope finally tilted steep enough to force him into a crouch. He reached up with his good arm and grabbed the edge of a broken pillar half-buried in the soil.
Not natural.
Stone, carved. Edged in runes.
Ruins.
He exhaled, slow.
'Something lived here. Or at least died here.'
He climbed the last few meters, boots slipping slightly on the cracked slope.
The ridge flattened out into a plateau—small, no more than twenty meters wide—but carved straight into the edge was a structure.
Half-buried. Crumbling. Tower base, maybe.
And surrounding it—twelve spires.
Each no taller than his waist. Spread in a perfect circle. Some intact, others snapped in half like broken fingers.
He stepped carefully between them.
Every fiber in his body screamed not to breathe too loud.
This wasn't just a ruin.
This was ritual space.
Old.
Dead.
But heavy with residue.
He crouched next to one of the standing spires. Ran his fingers over the surface.
The glyphs weren't in any known language. Not elven. Not ancient script. Something older.
But the mana still lived in them.
Corrupted. Dormant.
Like a heartbeat under stone.
He squinted at the base. A long crack split the foundation—and just barely, beneath the rubble—
Steel.
Or something like it.
He shoved aside the loose stone.
A hatch.
He stared.
'Buried. Sealed. But it's still here. This definitely isn't natural.'
He hesitated.
Then set both hands on it and began clearing more rubble.
The stone fought him. The corrupted mana pulsed with each movement, like it didn't want the hatch disturbed. He pushed through it.
Finally, the hatch came loose with a grinding pop, kicking up a plume of black dust.
He coughed once. Waved it aside.
Beneath the hatch—stairs.
Descending into the dark.
He stared into it for a long moment.
'This is a terrible idea. But everything is at this point.'
Then drew Keryx, blade humming faintly with wind-static.
And stepped down.
The darkness swallowed him.
—
His boots touched metal.
Not stone. Not dirt.
Cold, reinforced steel.
The stairwell opened into a corridor barely wider than his shoulders, walls lined with ribbed paneling that clicked faintly under his steps. Long-dead lights ran across the ceiling—glass tubes filled with darkened filaments. Some were cracked. Others sparked faintly.
Something had powered this once.
'But not magic. Technology.'
It was wrong. The kind of wrong that gnawed at the edges of his instincts—not demonic, not arcane.
Modern.
Too modern.
'This doesn't belong here. This doesn't belong anywhere.'
He tightened his grip on Keryx, blade held low, body angled forward.
The corridor opened into a large chamber.
Merlin froze at the threshold.
It was a lab.
Rows of desks. Glass tanks. Console screens fused to the walls.
And everything covered in dust.
The tanks were mostly empty—except for the broken ones. Inside those, the remnants of fluid had congealed into black sludge, staining the steel floors like oil slicks.
A faint mechanical hum buzzed overhead. Some backup power source still lived in the walls. It cast a low blue glow across the entire room.
Merlin stepped in, breath slow.
The air didn't move.
No corrosion on the glass. No growths. No life.
Just the echo of boots on the floor.
'Not recent. But doesn't seem ncient either.'
He moved to one of the intact tanks. Wiped the glass with his sleeve.
Inside—scarring on the walls. Not from damage. From claws.
Something had been in here.
Contained.
And it had not gone quietly.
He moved to the console just beside it.
Flicked a light thread of mana into the screen—testing.
The interface blinked.
Alive.
[Facility: Unknown ID]
[Access Level: ERROR]
[Recovery Protocol: Fragmented]
[Last Entry: 11,493 Days Ago]
He tapped further.
[Log Entry #198]
Subject 07 failed adaptive calibration. Neural corruption at 62%. Hostility levels exceeded parameters.
Containment breach probable.
All staff relocated to Sector Gamma. Doorways sealed. Vaults locked. Do not enter East Wing.
—End Entry
He leaned back, expression unreadable.
'Staff? Relocated?'
Merlin's eyes didn't move.
'Then this wasn't demon-made. This was human. Or something close enough.'
He stepped away from the console. Past the rows of desks. Some had personal items still scattered—cups, half-melted pens, a single pair of cracked glasses.
Someone had left in a hurry.
He approached the back wall—another door. Double-sealed. Mechanical.
No mana lock.
But an emergency override slot.
He crouched.
Fingers brushed against the card-reader port.
It had melted from the inside.
Not from heat.
From whatever was on the other side trying to get out.
'East Wing. They said not to go there.'
He stared at it a long time.
Then turned away.
'No way.'
He moved back toward the center of the lab—stopping at the main desk.
Something had been carved into the metal surface.
Messy. Uneven.
Letters, scratched in by hand.
STILL ALIVE
Just those words.
Nothing else.
No name.
No date.
He stared at them until the hum in the walls seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Then finally, he sat down at the desk and breathed.
Slowly.
Just once. Then again.
The lab didn't speak.
Didn't move. Didn't help.
But it didn't kill him either.
'That's enough. For tonight… I don't have any idea what to do..'
He let his eyes close for a second, Keryx still in his hand, blade resting flat against the desk beside him.
He would sleep here.
And tomorrow—
He'd find out what was locked behind that melted door.
—
The halls were too quiet.
Not empty. Just… held together by something thin. Like a layer of frost stretched over a deep lake. Ready to break.
Elara didn't speak.
Her boots tapped against the tile floors with rhythmic precision, the echo soft under the artificial lights.
The healing stations had been overwhelmed after the breach. First-years, second-years…everyone even staff—all shuffled in with burns, broken limbs, mana trauma.
She hadn't needed healing.
Not technically.
No visible wounds.
No broken bones.
Just… a weight under the skin. Dull. Settled somewhere between her chest and throat.
'He jumped into the portal…He's not coming back…not soon..'
She exhaled through her nose.
The hallway stretched on. She turned left at the familiar corner, passed the mural near the dorm stairwell. Everything was as it had always been.
And none of it felt real.
Up ahead, voices drifted.
Liliana's, soft but tense.
Adrian's, more animated—his volume rising with every word.
Seraphina's, calm and clipped like always. Too calm.
The dorm lounge lights were on. Warm. Inviting.
She paused at the doorframe.
Adrian was pacing. "They said he chose to go in. Like he knew what would happen. That's not a choice—that's a setup."
"He didn't expect to die," Liliana said quietly, hugging her knees on the couch. "He said he had a plan."
"And we're supposed to believe that?"
"I do believe it," Seraphina said. She stood by the window, arms crossed. "He's not dead. If anyone could survive that—"
"—it's Merlin," Liliana whispered.
Elara stepped inside.
The room went still for a moment.
She moved to the empty chair by the corner and sat down without a word.
Adrian sighed. "You think he's alive?"
Elara looked at him.
She didn't answer right away.
"…Yes."
Liliana looked up, hopeful. "You do?"
Elara nodded once. "He's… deliberate. Every action. Everything. He doesn't act unless the outcome is already calculated."
Seraphina added, "He had something planned. He must've."
Adrian ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Then why didn't he tell us?"
Elara's eyes narrowed. "Because we would have tried to stop him."
No one argued.
Adrian dropped into a chair with a grunt. "He's a pain in the ass."
Liliana let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "He is."
"He's also the reason any of us are still breathing," Seraphina said, her voice steady. "Let's not forget that."
Silence again.
Elara stared at the wall, unfocused.
'He always watched everything. Always thinking five steps ahead.'
He wasn't warm. He wasn't kind. He didn't smile unless it meant something.
But he listened.
And he acted.
Elara remembered the way he moved when the monsters attacked—surgical. Like the world around him was already slowing down, waiting for him to choose how it ended.
And then he left.
Without hesitation.
Without a goodbye.
Something in her chest twisted.
She didn't know what to name it.
Nathan hadn't said anything since the breach.
He was still in his room.
No jokes. No stupid questions. No laughter.
That was the part Elara hated most.
The silence.
The kind that Merlin would've cut through with something blunt and cold.
They all felt it.
The absence.
It settled in the corners of the room like dust that wouldn't leave.
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"I'm going to find him," Liliana said suddenly, sitting up straighter.
Everyone looked at her.
Elara tilted her head. "How?"
"I don't know yet," Liliana said. "But I'm not just going to sit here."
Seraphina nodded slightly. "Agreed."
Adrian stood up. "Well, count me in. Someone's gotta bring him back just so we can yell at him."
Liliana smiled weakly.
Elara didn't.
She just stared forward, arms folded.
'If he's alive. He's waiting. And if he's not—'
No. That wasn't possible.
He was alive.
He had to be.
Because she wasn't ready for a world without him in it.
None of them were.
