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Chapter 21 - The Crazy Mage III

"I… I don't know," I answer, my voice barely more than breath, laced with uncertainty.

Yusuf stares at me, eyes still trembling from his earlier episode, yet burning with conviction now. "No, you must be," he insists, each word weighted with something like desperation. "This world has gone too long without the Administrator."

His gaze flicks to the alley around us. The grime-slick walls. The shadows that stretch too far. He pales.

"We shouldn't be speaking here," he murmurs, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Not in front of prying eyes. Not where the walls remember."

Then he lifts his hand, slow and deliberate.

The mana in the air shivers.

It's subtle at first, like the way still water ripples before a storm. Then a pressure blooms, almost suffocating, as the air folds around us. Threads of pale light writhe invisibly across the alley, forming something unseen but felt, a ward, a veil, a shroud pulled from the weave of the world itself.

And then 

A shriek.

Not close, but not distant either. Not human.

It sounds like something dying. Something being undone.

"What did you do?" I demand, the dread crawling into my voice before I can stop it.

Yusuf doesn't look at me. He's already turning, already moving.

"Just follow me," he mutters. "We mustn't speak here anymore. The wolves… the wolves will come now."

Then he bolts, limping, half-shuffling, half-gliding toward the edge of the alley and out into the filth-streaked arteries of the slums.

I hesitate for a breath.

But I need answers. I need truth.

So I follow.

He moves like something born of the slums, erratic, twitching, veering into narrow side paths and collapsing corridors like a cockroach avoiding light. And yet… always toward the wall. Always somewhere.

We pass butcher shops that reek of old blood and gods-forgotten taverns where even the rats drink to forget. Yusuf never slows.

And every so often, he raises his hand again.

The mana stirs.

It dances, recoils, folds inward as if obeying some ancient instinct.

And each time, each single time, there comes a sound.

A shriek. A wail. A death-rattle carried on the wind.

Closer now.

Always closer.

When we reach the base of the city walls, Yusuf begins to move with surprising speed. His fingers dance across the stone, pressing indentations and seams in a pattern I can't decipher. Then, with a low groan, a section of the wall shudders and parts, not like a door, but like flesh yielding to an old scar being reopened.

Behind it: a stairway spiraling downward into nothing.

Without hesitation, he steps inside. I follow.

The moment we cross the threshold, the wall seals behind us, swallowing the entrance whole. Darkness envelops everything, thick, oppressive, like ink in water. It isn't just the absence of light; it's a living thing, reaching, clinging, hungry to smother even the glow of the soul.

I can't breathe.

Then Yusuf waves his hand once more, and the air shivers. Mana responds, reluctantly , stirring into faint threads of luminescence that hover above us. Wisps, not flames. They give off just enough light to suggest shapes, outlines, the breadth of the path, but not safety.

This time, there is no shriek.

Just the silence of a grave that remembers being dug too deep.

The stairway itself is ancient, carved from stone that weeps with time. Mold clings to the walls like bruises. The air is heavy, unmoving, stale as forgotten tombs. Every step echoes as though it's the first sound the corridor has heard in centuries.

Yusuf sighs.

It's a sound full of exhaustion and something else, maybe relief, maybe resignation.

Without a word, he begins to descend.

I hesitate.

The darkness presses at the edge of my thoughts, whispering things in a voice I don't quite hear but still understand. This place doesn't want us. Or maybe it wants us too much.

Still… I follow.

Each step downward tightens something inside me. Fear, yes, but not of pain, not even of death.

It's the fear of the unknown.

The fear of knowing.

The fear that whatever truth waits below, it won't set me free.

Every step we took echoed with a low, metallic reverberation, like the stone itself was remembering old footsteps. The deeper we went, the heavier the silence became, not just absence of sound, but a hush filled with waiting. The kind of quiet that makes your skin crawl and your thoughts speak too loudly.

The descent lasted ten minutes, maybe more.

Finally, the stairs ended, not at a chamber, but at a door.

It stood embedded in the stone, not fitted, grown. As though the floor had birthed it. Ancient and untouched by light, its surface was marked by a deep, intricate sigil: a coiling beast with wings stretched wide. A dragon… or something trying very hard to look like one. The lines twisted too sharply, the proportions just off enough to unsettle.

Yusuf stepped forward.

He knocked in a strange rhythm, tap, pause, double tap, tap-tap… silence. Then, without hesitation, he bit into his finger and let a droplet of blood fall onto the sigil.

The moment the blood touched the carving, the lines shimmered faintly, not with light, but with movement, like the door had exhaled.

A long, creaking groan echoed through the corridor as the door opened inward.

Beyond it: a cavernous space.

Not carved. Not built. Born.

The walls pulsed with mana, veins of soft blue light tracing across the stone like frozen lightning. The air was thick with age, knowledge, and something else, something that watched.

A flicker of unease crept up my spine.

I turned to Yusuf and whispered the question I wasn't sure I wanted answered.

"…Is this a dungeon?"

He didn't reply.

He just stepped inside.

And I followed.

As I step into the chamber, something in the air shifts , thickens. Like the space itself has become aware of me.

Then, without warning, glowing text appears in my vision, etched in perfect silver glyph.

[System Notification]

Entering: Cavern of Light

Verifying soul signature…

Checking qualification...

WARNING: Level insufficient.WARNING: Tier insufficient.

Attempting to reject entry…

Override Detected.

Access status: FORCIBLY GRANTED

Marker: [Unknown Signature Identified]

[Dungeon Registered]Cavern of Light

-Level Recommendation: 100–150

-Tier Recommendation: Tier 6 or higher

Current user is below threshold.

Proceeding may result in irreversible death.

Entry acknowledged.

"Good luck"

The text vanishes. But it leaves behind a weight, like invisible chains settling on my shoulders.

The light in the cave doesn't flicker, it breathes, alive and unnatural. I glance toward Yusuf. He's already ahead, waiting at the mouth of a corridor formed by nature, not intention.

He doesn't comment on what just happened. But when our eyes meet, I know. He saw the same notifications, as me,

And yet, he says only this:

"Now you begin to see… why we need to be here."

My heart beats louder in my chest.

My level is not even double digits.

My Tier? Laughable.

And yet this place, this dungeon, opened for me. Because of something inside me.

Something marked.

Something unknown.

I step forward, the air like frost in my lungs.

And I ask myself again, now truly afraid:

What have I gotten myself into?

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