"Let’s come back to this later, okay?" Bruto said somewhat impatiently, waving his hand, "We already know that the monster’s weakness is its joints, that’s enough..."
"Bruto is right," Lancelot pulled the Great Sword from the ground and slung it over his shoulder, "Let’s go, Uncle Barrend is still waiting for us."
After speaking, he turned and headed down the steps, and his companions immediately followed. Nonetheless, Lancelot continued to ponder in his heart what exactly the contents of the note he had obtained meant. The note mentioned that the ’Madam’ had proposed an improved plan targeting the weakness to fire, but this required removal before the ’part’ was ’completely transformed.’ If the petrified state of the golem limbs was the result of the improvement, then the unpetrified joints would correspond to the need to remove them before complete transformation. But if ’part’ meant the dismembered corpse, the implications suggested in the note were rather horrifying—the people here could no longer use corpses for ’experiments,’ a carpenter had his arm sawed off while he could still scream, and a certain ’sample’ had reacted to his daughter’s name...
Just then, a vampire turned into a little bat and suddenly tugged sharply at his cloak, causing Lancelot to immediately stop in his tracks.
"What’s wrong?" Before he could speak, Bruto at his back asked anxiously, "Is there an enemy? Where?"
"No, there’s a trap ahead." Little Isha reverted to human form amid a puff of smoke, "Watch the wall over there, see those few black holes? Those should be arrow slits, and there are definitely triggers in some of the floor tiles ahead..."
Lancelot realized he had been somewhat distracted just before, and with Isha’s reminder, he also noticed more mechanisms: a tripwire painted black that was nearly invisible in the shadow; several suspicious-looking floor tiles, each potentially hiding a pressure sensor; some runes emitting faint magical fluctuations, seemingly capable of automatically detecting passing creatures.
On the stairs’ floor, walls, and ceiling, there were suspicious grooves, holes, and seemingly randomly placed debris everywhere. Unless one was very familiar with these arrangements, walking into them was not much different from committing suicide.
"It seems like there are many other traps..." the keenly perceptive Elf Priest also realized something was amiss, "Isha, will it take a long time to dismantle all these traps?"
"At least fifteen minutes," the little girl answered somewhat despondently, "and I might still miss one or two more hidden ones..."
"That’s too long!" Bruto exclaimed anxiously, about to rush forward, "Let me go ahead. Forget the traps, Elf, just keep casting the Healing Spell on me..."
"Don’t be hasty," Lancelot quickly pulled the Dwarf back, "We still can use the old method..."
"Kalalin’s old method," Lancelot turned to look at the Scholar, "How about it? No problem, right?"
"Of course not. Step back."
The Scholar’s face was very excited. He pulled out a small clump of dark brown substance from his belt, clenched it in his hand, then began to draw circles in the air with his fist while chanting some arcane Spell.
"Hm? What’s that smell?" the Dwarf suddenly sniffed, "What did he just pull out?"
Little Isha’s face suddenly turned very strange.
"Bat droppings," Alamir explained earnestly, "a casting material for Fireball Technique. It can also be substituted with sulfur."
"I see," Bruto stroked his beard, then turned to look at the little vampire, "Was that you...?"
"It’s not my fault!" Little Ysa stomped her foot in frustration, "I’m already an Undead!!!!"
"...Oh." The Dwarf nodded, "I was wondering, Kalalin is pretty twisted but not that twisted."
The Scholar had already completed his spell by then, and a bright orange-red fireball appeared in his hand, about the size of a wine barrel, whereas the ones he had cast through scrolls before were only about the size of a helmet, and they seemed not so slow, either.
The giant fireball wavered as it floated into the passage with downward steps, causing everyone to involuntarily step back again. After a long few seconds, a deafening roar echoed from within the passage, a visible shock wave passed before everyone’s eyes followed by an impressive surge of flames, as if some trap’s released gas had been ignited, resembling a Red Dragon belching.
In addition to the loud explosion, the very focused Lancelot also heard some other noises—mechanisms being triggered, hinges moving, bowstrings vibrating, blades slicing through the air, metal clashing with stone... He caught a lot of details, something he hadn’t been able to do before.
"Oh oh oh!" Kalalin waved his arms excitedly, "Friends, did you see that? How wonderful..."
"So the old method was this," Bruto nodded slowly, in acknowledgment, "but have you thought about what if the passage collapses?"
"Of course, fire another Fireball Technique," the Scholar fluttered his eyebrows, "I’ve said it before, the Fireball Technique is... "
"...the answer to all problems in the Multiverse," his companions chorused, followed by a string of gleeful chuckles. Lancelot shook his head, slung the Great Sword back over his shoulder, and stepped into the still-burning tunnel.
Dart traps and arrows packed the stone bricks on the steps, glittering under the firelight; beside the walls lay some huge metal plates, and the Human Knight was pleased to find them dormant; some metal spheres hung by chains from the ceiling, harmlessly dangling, making them easy for everyone to bypass...
Kalalin was right, the Fireball Technique indeed was an answer to all problems in the Multiverse... at least one of the answers.
The stairway wasn’t too long, and they quickly emerged from the passage, reaching the second underground level of the building. The first thing they saw was two bodies of Cultists, presumably killed by the explosion triggered by the Scholar. There were a lot of cells sealed by iron bars, exactly as they had seen in the Prophecy Magic before.
"Dad! Where are you!" Bruto couldn’t help but shout loudly, "Barrend! Barrend Frostforge! Answer me!"
"Son?" A surprised shout came from a corner, "Is that you? Bruto?"
The Dwarf did not hesitate, dashed off with a swoosh, and the others quickly followed, coming upon a familiar old Dwarf figure within moments.
"My son, and Sir Lancelot..." Barrend, dragging the iron sphere tied around his neck, struggled to move closer to the metal bars, "What brought you here?"
"We’re here to rescue you, old man," Bruto wiped his eyes, his voice choked, "Just a moment, I’ll get you out..."
"To rescue me?" The old Dwarf was still full of surprise, but suddenly he remembered something, his face abruptly changed, and he spoke hastily, "Wait a minute! There is a lady here, she is..."
"Welcome, strange visitors," a cold, ghostly female voice rose behind them, "What brings you to my research institute?"