The sewers of the Inner City District were incredibly complex, like a labyrinth. Some areas obviously hadn’t seen a living soul in many years, but Professor Bins needed only to glance at the sand and dust, look at the construction of the walls, to know where they were, which way to go, where dangers might lurk, and where it was safe.
He even knew their history and who built them.
"These sewers were built by the Tulu Dynasty during the Third Epoch, a regime that revered beauty. They believed that the more beautiful something was, the stronger its combat prowess; art was the bane of monsters. Every creation of theirs bore a strong artistic sense, even warriors were required to fight in grand attire, and even the sewer’s green bricks were no exception."
"This is a secondary tunnel built by the Momon Empire, a power that adored nature. These branch-like pathways are their handiwork."
"This is a Giant’s work; only they would build such enormous sewers."
"We’ve reached the Tilles Region now; next, we’ll make our way around the eastern quarter to the middle layers of Aifeid."
"Here, here, and here—these three points are the areas we need to explore during this operation. If they weren’t constructed by the Habakkuk people, it means there’s a gap in our history."
Rod asked, "Is it dangerous?"
Professor Bins folded the map, resembling a tangled mess; his calm expression remained unchanged:
"Yes, but not significantly. The primary danger is that our maps of that area aren’t complete; we can’t afford to get lost, so mapping and recon are also part of our mission."
"Could there be Doomsday believers?"
Professor Bins glanced at him, his tone still as placid as an ancient well: "Impossible. This is a key exploration area; explorers like us come here frequently. Doomsday believers only choose areas with no exploratory value, abandoned, uninhabited, and generally less hazardous as their nests."
Rod nodded; that was for the best.
If there were any, he wouldn’t mind collecting a few Souls and listening to the voices within them; he might even stumble upon some clues.
"Nightwing, the next stretch of this route likely hasn’t seen anyone in about two years; we might encounter some threats. You take the lead."
Nightwing spoke loudly, "Yes, Teacher!"
After a brief rest, the squad continued on their way. Molly left a Spirit Lamp behind as a marker.
Nightwing became more talkative along this stretch, constantly boasting about his own strength, flaunting his Soul Trait "Spell Talent" as one of the seven most powerful characteristics. He claimed it was the same as that of the Dean, Theodore. He received considerable attention at the academy; people had asked him to become a Special Level Combatant, but he declined, and his Spiritual Vision was also exceptionally high.
Essentially, the success of the mission relied entirely on him—the others, including Rod, could just watch from behind.
When Rod realized that he could gain Humanity just by casually engaging with him, the sewers echoed with Nightwing’s self-praise.
"Don’t be fooled by my being only an Eighth Level Combatant; I tell you, in the sewers, even Special Level Combatants can’t beat me."
"You might not believe it, but it’s not just about who has the strongest Absolute Spiritual Power down here. You need experience, intelligence, and unparalleled observational skills, as well as caution, vigilance, and stability. Otherwise, no matter how strong you are, it’s useless. If you make too much noise and awaken some indescribable existence from the depths, the entire Royal City could suffer."
"Ah, you see, there is a monster up ahead. You might not have noticed it, that’s okay, I’ll tell you—it’s a Maggot Man, created when a living corpse is infected by Black Fog in a gloomy, putrid environment, classified as a monster. Based on the Soul Waveform I’m seeing, the fluctuations in Spiritual Power, and its inherent characteristics, I preliminarily judge its level to be Ungraded Primary Rank, with a Spiritual Power Level between 2 and 3."
"Normally, someone might rush up to hack it to pieces, but this is the sewer; we need to be more cautious. We absolutely cannot just shoot it..."
A flash of white light, a True Silver Bullet tracing a pure white arc, hitting the monster right in the head. It exploded, turning its maggot-filled head into dust.
The creature’s soul, as black as tar, burst apart with its body, ’dissipating into countless specks of black dust.
Joy welled up in Rod’s heart.
This Heavy Strike, he had charged it in just two seconds.
Before, it would have taken him five to six seconds.
I have indeed become stronger.
But to Nightwing, it was as if the True Silver Bullet had struck deep inside him, causing him to leap three meters high in rage, shouting, "What are you doing?"
Rod nonchalantly replied, "Cleansing filth, hunting monsters."
Nightwing angrily retorted, "How could you kill like that? How do you know there aren’t other monsters around? What if you’ve alerted a horde, or drawn the attention of an entity too powerful to handle?"
Rod answered, "I know, I saw it—there are no other monsters around."
"Heh, what’s your Spiritual Vision? Don’t lie; whoever lies will have their ding-dong rot off."
"Hahaha, only ninety—huh, ninety-nine?"
Nightwing made a sound like a strangled duck, "Gurk," but quickly regained composure, looking disdainful,
"Ninety-nine isn’t anything special. It’s just a bit higher than mine. Lots of people are complete Spiritual Visionaries; I come across them all the time."
Rod asked curiously, "What’s your Spiritual Vision?"
"Nine... thirty-three, but that’s not important. What matters is are you certain you could kill it with one shot? What if you didn’t and it made noise? It could also alarm monsters beyond our line of sight, or it might attack the walls, which haven’t been reinforced with Spiritual Energy, causing a cave-in. Do you understand?"