362. At The Bottom of The Sea

A tense silence settled over the study before Ravenna quietly asked, “And what’s the final theory?”

Richard gulped, his face darkening. “They might have been swallowed whole by a massive, passing high tier Magical Beast... consumed entirely, leaving not a single scrap of wreckage behind.”

“Though that’s just a theory, the most plausible scenario is that they are stuck inside an underwater dungeon,” Dame Aisha instantly remarked, adjusting her position at the table.

“Hmm...” Ravenna tapped her fingers rhythmically against the desk for a few seconds in deep thought. “If I sail around that specific sector and utilize the System’s geographical scan function underwater, we will be able to confirm it far faster than standard methods…”

With a decisive motion, she stood up from her chair. “I have a plan.”

Deep Underwater. Route to Kim Dukedom, The Luminous Sea. Eastern Continent.

“I am certain at least three full days must have gone by.. by now, Vice-Captain John,” said a blonde-haired knight, peering through a scope as he surveyed the strange surroundings. He lowered his rifle, the name Kalahad clearly embroidered on his uniform badge.

“We still don't even know how deep under the sea this dungeon actually is...” John muttered, leaning against the ship's railing and looking out over the massive, dry cavern space where their steamship was currently grounded. All around them, nothing but ancient, towering sandstone walls could be seen stretching into the dim upper shadows.

“Grah... why do I always end up getting dragged into these absurd, out-of-the-way dungeons?!” John sighed heavily, taking a long drag from a cigarette he had borrowed from one of the Otto immigrants.

“We should honestly be grateful that no aggressive magical beasts have attacked us yet, Vice-Captain...” Knight Kalahad replied, casually reaching over and snatching the burning cigarette right out of John's hand.

“Besides, you have a child on the way. How on earth can you justify picking up a smoking habit now of all times, Vice-Captain?” he retorted, extinguishing the ember.

“You tell me. I’m just stressed out,” John replied softly, turning to look over the deck at the exhausted immigrants and weary knights resting together around the ship’s main board.

“We are going to run out of rations soon...” John continued in a hushed tone, making sure his voice didn't carry to the passengers. “An escort ship simply wasn’t equipped to feed this many people for days on end to begin with.”

He watched the hollow, tired faces of young children sleeping fitfully in their mothers' arms, while a few older men tried to assist the ship's engineers with basic repairs on damaged hull plates in whatever way they could. The escort knights were visibly drained, having stayed continuously vigilant for three straight days with their rifles clutched tight in their hands.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“If we don’t take action soon... the anxiety is going to act like a ticking bomb. The crowd will panic and explode,” Kalahad replied with a heavy sigh. “We can’t just sit here passively and wait for the Kim Dukedom to somehow find a way down to rescue us.”

John walked over to the edge of the ship’s gangway, staring down at the strange, glowing green ice-like floor covering the cavern bed below. “You might be right... At the very least, we need to map out this area and determine how many floors this dungeon has so we can gauge our actual danger level.”

“I will lead the scouting party. Please, just stay behind on the ship,” Kalahad volunteered instantly. Before John could object, Kalahad quickly added, “Think of Miss Katrina and your unborn child, Vice-Captain. We can’t afford to have you taking unnecessary risks.”

John smiled faintly, reaching out to pat Kalahad firmly on the back. “As if I’m the only one here with a family waiting... You have people waiting for your safe return too, Kalahad.”

He looked out over the dry sandstone cavern. “Besides, you’ve only ever been trapped in a single dungeon before, the one Her Highness personally resolved back then. I have far more field experience with irregular anomalies like this. Me leading the scout team is by far the most optimal solution.”

“But Vice-Captain-” Kalahad tried to protest.

John’s warm smile hardened into an unyielding, authoritative glare. “That is an order, Knight Kalahad! You will remain in charge of defending the ship and protecting the civilians on board, while I take Unit 3 with me to scout the surrounding terrain!”

The moment John raised his voice to issue the command, every single Kim knight on deck snapped their heads toward him, immediately standing at sharp attention.

A few minutes later, the tension on the deck was palpable as the six chosen knights of Unit 3 quickly checked their equipment, racking their rifle bolts with crisp, metallic snaps.

“Check your ammunition, stay in double file formation, and keep your safety catches off,” John ordered, his voice echoing sharply off the damp sandstone walls. “We advance slowly, clear every corner, and establish a secure perimeter. If anything moves that isn’t human, shoot to kill.”

“Sir, yes sir!” The knights chorused, their disciplined voices briefly cutting through the heavy, stagnant air of the cavern.

John led the way down the lowered gangplank, his boots making a soft, crunching sound as he stepped off the last plank and made contact with the strange terrain. The floor beneath them looked like solid, emerald tinted ice, yet it didn't melt under their weight nor feel slick underfoot. Instead, it radiated a faint, sickening heat and hummed with a low, unnatural vibration that resonated straight up through their soles.

“Watch your footing,” John warned, lowering his posture and sweeping his rifle barrel across the open expanse. “This isn't normal ice. The heat density down here is unnaturally thick, clearly made of mana”

Unit 3 fanned out into a tight tactical wedge behind him, their bayonets gleaming in the eerie, bioluminescent green light emanating from the ground. Step by cautious step, they moved away from the towering shadow of the grounded steamship, leaving behind the anxious, watching eyes of the immigrants gathered at the railings.

The silence of the vast subterranean chamber was suffocating, broken only by the synchronized crunch of their tactical boots and the steady, rhythmically echoed breathing inside their helmets. As they approached a massive archway carved into the far sandstone wall, a yawning threshold leading deeper into the uncharted lower levels of the dungeon, John held up a gloved hand to signal a halt. He knelt down, pressing two fingers against the glowing green floor, his expression darkening as he felt a deep, monstrous pulse thumping beneath the frozen surface.

His eyes widened as he roared “Unit 3! Retreat! I say Retreat!”