DMS Chapter 122

After completing his preparations, Flinx chose not to wait for Olivia, her two brothers, and the four children to return. He left without saying goodbye.

It was deliberate. A farewell would only complicate things. He had already ensured they possessed enough coin to live comfortably for a long time, even in his absence. If necessary, Olivia could sell the tower and divide the proceeds among them.

That was enough.

At first, Flinx hesitated to use the seventh-level spell Phase Shift to return to the small cave he had once called home during his time as a dungeon miner slave. However, the spell’s description reassured him—if the destination were obstructed, he would simply be redirected to the nearest viable space.

His plan was simple. He would Phase Shift into the world of the wizard enslavers, immediately cast Invisibility, and conceal himself. After confirming his safety, he would return to his tower in Ilioven using the same spell. If the transition between worlds proved stable, he could proceed without restraint.

Fortunately, he now possessed more than one seventh-level spell slot. There would be no need to wait for cooldowns.

Even so, his heart pounded heavily in his chest, like a drum echoing in a hollow chamber.

Dread. Excitement. Fear. Anticipation.

All of it churned within him.

He could not deny the fear—not after everything he had endured. The wizard enslavers had tortured and broken him for more than two years. He still remembered how he had deliberately disfigured himself, slamming his face against the ground whenever a wizard passed by. It had been an act of desperation—an attempt to make himself undesirable, to avoid becoming a target for their depravity.

It had not always worked.

He remembered James.

James had not survived—not physically, and certainly not mentally. After what had been done to him, he had chosen death.

Flinx had nearly done the same.

There had been a moment when he believed his time had come—that he would be selected as either a plaything or a test subject, regardless of his appearance. He had resolved, in that moment, to die fighting. If he were to be dragged into hell, he would at least take one of them with him.

But fate had intervened.

Religious fanatics had attacked the wizards. In the chaos, Flinx escaped through a gate.

Even now, he was grateful that he had hesitated—that he had not followed James into death.

And now, he had returned.

This time, he was not powerless.

He had the strength to come back.

He also understood that the wizard enslavers would not remain in the same location. After the attack, they would have relocated. Finding them again would take time.

Flinx took a steady breath.

Then, without further hesitation, he cast Phase Shift.

Darkness greeted him.

For a brief moment, instinct urged him to cast Invisibility, but he stopped. The surroundings were familiar.

Too familiar.

It was the cave.

The same cramped, suffocating space where he had spent more than two years as a slave.

Flinx reached into his fourth tab space and retrieved a rechargeable solar camping light—something he had purchased from the System Shopping Site what felt like a lifetime ago. He switched it on without concern. The slave quarters had been designed to isolate each occupant; no one outside would notice the light within.

Dust coated every surface.

The cave had been abandoned for a long time.

A small measure of relief settled within him.

Before proceeding, Flinx immediately cast Phase Shift again, returning to his room in Ilioven.

The moment he reappeared, tension drained from his body.

The connection worked.

He could return safely.

After waiting for the spell’s cooldown to reset, he cast Phase Shift once more and returned to the cave.

This time, he did not hesitate.

He stepped outside.

Flinx knew the way.

All slaves did.

The wizards had never concealed the exit. They had never needed to. The slave collars ensured obedience—any attempt at escape resulted in instant death. More than one desperate soul had tested that truth. Their heads had exploded before they could take more than a few steps toward freedom.

The caverns were silent.

Empty.

The religious fanatics had done their work thoroughly. No life remained.

Flinx might have commended them—if not for one detail.

They had killed indiscriminately.

Slaves. Prisoners. The defenseless.

To them, there had been no difference.

That alone made them no better than the wizards.

After an hour of walking, Flinx reached the exit.

It was buried beneath fallen debris.

He raised a hand and cast Fireball—again and again—until the obstruction was reduced to rubble.

He did not fear retaliation. If something attacked him, he would deal with it. If the cavern collapsed, he could simply retreat to Ilioven and find another path.

Once the way was clear, he layered himself with defensive spells, cast Fly, and ascended.

When he emerged, he found himself at the base of a rocky mountain, surrounded by wilderness.

No movement.

No watchers.

For that, he was grateful.

Flinx retrieved a compass and began traveling west.

His objective was straightforward: find the nearest settlement and begin gathering information. He already possessed valuable knowledge—the symbols of the wizard enslavers, fragments of their structure, and data compiled by fellow Earthlings.

The forums maintained by the dungeon miner slaves held a wealth of information. It would serve as his foundation.

The wilderness stretched endlessly.

As he flew, Flinx maintained his defensive spells, along with Fly and Invisibility, refreshing them as needed. He had no intention of stopping.

Along the way, he encountered numerous monsters—some even capable of flight—but he ignored them. Combat would only waste time and resources.

Three hours passed before the terrain began to change.

At last, he reached the edge of the wilderness.

A road came into view, cutting along the border of a forest.

He followed it west.

Before long, a town appeared in the distance.

Flinx observed from above.

The settlement appeared ordinary—no signs of unusual activity, no overwhelming presence of power.

Satisfied, he descended and dismissed Invisibility.

Then he cast the third-level spell Tongues.

When he had been a slave, communication had never been an issue. The wizards had constructed a massive spell array—something akin to a permanent Tongues effect—that allowed slaves and captors to understand one another regardless of language.

Without such assistance, communication would be difficult.

He recalled his time in Beldor, where he had forced himself to learn the local language without relying on magic. It had been slow, frustrating—but ultimately worthwhile.

This time, he could not afford that luxury.

Not now.

Not when every moment mattered.

Flinx didn’t have to change his clothes since what he was wearing was the generic ensemble of a typical adventurer, and from what it looked like, this world was almost the same as the world where he just came from.

He did retrieve the Actor’s Mask item from his 4^th tab space. He planned to disguise himself while investigating the location of the wizard enslavers.

The main reason why he chose to start his travel by flying to the west was that, according to some of his fellow Earthlings, they were told that the wizards had relocated west of their previous dungeons.

Flinx knew he had to be subtle with his investigation since he didn’t want to send the news to the enslavers that someone was searching for them. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to start his search.