Fantasy Clinic: Chronicles of a 3rd-Rate Doctor-Chapter 37: Below the Crown

The stairs spiraled downward in silence.

Stone beneath Elric's feet felt unnaturally smooth, carved by hands that had worked with care—and urgency. Faint glyphs lined the walls, pulsing once as he passed. Not glowing. Breathing.

Lira moved behind him, her blade returned to its sheath, but her hand never far.

"How far does this go?" she whispered.

Elric didn't answer right away. His focus was on the energy in the air—warm and cold all at once, like memory and blood in a slow pulse.

After what felt like a hundred steps, the path opened.

A circular chamber. Wide. Vaulted. The roots of the throne above curled through the ceiling like veins puncturing bone. In the center stood a stone table—flat, gray, and carved with the same serpent sigil now etched on Elric's wrist.

He stepped closer.

Etched words circled the table's edge, in the same ancient language from the Tree of Echoes.

Lira stayed near the door, eyes scanning the walls. "No guards. No traps. Why would they leave this unprotected?"

"They didn't," Elric said, voice low.

He touched the edge of the table.

A pulse rippled through the air.

On the far wall, stone cracked—then receded like melting wax. Behind it stood a narrow shelf. And on it: a spine.

Not bone. Not metal.

Stone.

Its surface was carved in perfect detail, vertebrae bound in gold thread like a book.

Elric reached for it. The moment his fingers brushed the edge, pain flared through his arm—not injury, but recognition.

He didn't cry out. He took it, held it tight, and let the pain settle.

"It's a record," he said through clenched teeth. "The original Root. Not the infection. The knowledge."

Lira stepped closer. "Is that... a book?"

"No. It's the memory of one."

He placed it on the table.

The sigil on his wrist responded, glowing brighter until it bled light into the stone. The vertebrae clicked—once. Then split open like a chest, revealing layered text on each bone: names, symbols, formulas, and... anatomy.

Human anatomy.

But older. Altered.

Elric stared.

"They were trying to change how the body remembers," he whispered. "To lock loyalty into the blood. To bind obedience into bone."

Lira touched his shoulder. "Then what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to unbind it."

He reached for his journal, already sketching the symbols. "If this Root is the system... then this spine is the code."

Lira frowned. "You're going to rewrite it?"

"No," he said. "I'm going to heal it. From the inside out."

---

Meanwhile: On the Surface

In the palace courtyard, Chancellor Morian stood before a pool of red-glass water. His reflection blurred, split into pieces. Behind him, Lady Virella's voice broke the silence.

"He's gone below."

"I know."

"He'll reach the Heartwood soon."

Morian didn't respond. freewebnoveℓ.com

Virella stepped beside him. "It's not too late to send the Circle again."

"No," he said. The moment he touched the memory spine... we lost control."

She paused. "Then what now?"

Morian turned. "Now we remember why we buried the truth."

---

Back Underground

Elric's hand hovered above the open spine.

Then he saw it.

A name etched between vertebrae:

Elric Taran.

His name.

Lira leaned over. "That's..."

He nodded slowly. "They planned this."

"I don't understand," she said. "If this was sealed long ago, how could they carve your name into it?"

Elric's voice turned quiet.

"Because this wasn't sealed a thousand years ago. It's been rewritten—again and again. Every time someone like me appears, they try to erase the memory. But the Root remembers. The world remembers."

He turned the page of bone.

A final line glowed faintly beneath the text.

> He who holds the marrow may rewrite the law of life.

Elric exhaled.

Then placed his palm on the final vertebra.

And the chamber shook.

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