Chapter 77: Ghostly Shadow in the Sewer

Since the academy banquet, life had settled into a week of quiet monotony. Wang Yu had learned that young Daniel and his father were both somewhat unhinged and pathologically stubborn; otherwise, no matter how foolish one might be, they would not have attempted to forcibly abduct Avia within the academy grounds.

His father had met a similar end. After a failed auction, he had tried to hire an assassin to eliminate the buyer, only to run into a wall of iron.

The buyer was a ruthless character of unknown origin who, braving the encirclement of dozens of knights, had charged straight into the Daniel estate and slaughtered the elder Daniel.

Though the man did not survive the aftermath, trading his life for a count’s was, by any measure, a bargain.

Wang Yu remained wary of young Daniel and resolved to keep a close watch on him. He did not know if Edward’s status would be enough to deter Daniel’s covetousness, but should the man dare to strike again, Wang Yu would ensure he learned that he was not the only ruthless player in the game.

"Not planning to compete for that special spot in the Great Library?" Wang Yu, who was in the courtyard practicing his aura manipulation techniques, turned to ask Avia, who was engrossed in a grimoire at the table beneath the tree.

Earlier that morning, Avia’s mentor, Weber Lanchi, had sent his granddaughter, Wendy, to deliver the news of Avia’s eligibility for the Great Library. The girl had treated Wendy to a sumptuous lunch, leaving the visitor both deeply touched and somewhat emboldened.

Wendy had demanded a spar in the courtyard, and the result was the human-shaped crater now marring the ground.

It was Wang Yu’s masterpiece. Once he grasped Wendy’s combat style, he discarded his weapons and, without even invoking his blood-burning drive, ended the fight.

It was simple: he closed the distance before she could react. Once inside her guard, her massive greatsword became a liability; if the weight could not be brought to bear against an enemy, it served only to hinder her.

A few simple joint locks easily disarmed her, and a final shoulder throw concluded the match, leaving behind only a pit in the earth and a girl questioning her own existence.

Flexible in combat and adaptive to any scenario, Wang Yu might have lacked talent in other areas, but in battle, his instincts and capability were in a league of their own.

The rest of the day followed their routine. Aside from attending lectures and refining alchemy in the lab, Avia was free, and her favorite pastime was sitting under the tree, leisurely studying her alchemical texts and magic books, growing and improving alongside Wang Yu.

"No, I don't intend to compete. My goal is simply to enter the library once; the knowledge within is what I consider truly precious."

"Those who qualify are no simpletons. Competing against them would not only consume a great deal of time but could invite unnecessary hostility and trouble. With that time, isn't it better to focus on steady self-improvement?"

"Nice!" Wang Yu fully agreed with her. There was no point in fighting for a spot that only took one in ten.

Rather than scrambling against equally talented rivals for a special qualification, it was better to hold onto his own path and use the saved time to improve himself. True strength came only from within.

Clenching his fist, Wang Yu channeled his aura, spinning it like a vortex and compressing it into his right hand. With a surge of muscle, he slammed a punch into the chest of the iron-clad wooden dummy in the yard.

"Boom!" The dummy collapsed, and a cloud of sawdust erupted from the impact.

He walked over, hoisted the dummy up, and inspected the iron plate. The metal, though not thin, had been completely pierced.

There was no indentation from the blow; instead, a round hole with ragged edges appeared where he had struck. This was the result of his aura piercing the iron—destructive, yet incredibly taxing.

"Phew, not bad. I’ve mastered this technique, and my destructive power has reached a new level." Wang Yu looked at his work with satisfaction and tossed the broken dummy aside.

"I’ve finished coordinating with Elliot. He’s happy to take our order, so your alchemy shop should start construction soon." Wang Yu remembered.

"Really? Yay!" Avia pumped her fists in a small, joyful cheer.

"The Church of the Lady of Night seems to be gaining some traction, too, though the direction is a bit skewed. Overall, it’s for the best."

Mentioning the Church of Night, he couldn't help but smile at the images the Lady had shown him that day. Everything was moving in a positive direction, and Wang Yu was in high spirits.

Yet, it was clear that such peaceful times could not last long in an era of such chaotic upheaval.

"Wang Yu, are you there? Something’s happened." Edward’s voice came from outside the door.

Wang Yu opened it to find Edward accompanied by a squad of Night’s Edge soldiers, his expression grave. "There’s trouble in the suburban sewers. Shale has already rushed over; we need to leave immediately."

"The Source of Life, Erfin?"

"Yes."

Wang Yu exchanged a glance with Avia, who had followed him. They understood each other perfectly.

"Let's go!"

They followed Edward toward the site of the disturbance.

...

On the outskirts of the city, at the main drainage outlet of the Royal City, the massive sewer system discharged its contents. Vast amounts of alchemical waste and household refuse flowed through these suburban exits into the wilderness rivers.

The world’s self-purification capacity was far superior to Earth’s, so there was neither need nor ability to worry about environmental pollution.

Yet, even with such natural resilience, the environment at this outlet was horrifying. Piles of discarded alchemical solutions settled in small pools near the mouth of the giant pipe, emitting a dizzying, nauseating stench.

Sometimes, the odor was not merely from the filth mixed with the reagents, but from the volatile nature of the discarded solvents themselves, which were potent enough to render a person unconscious.

At this moment, amidst the wood chips, broken glass, rotting food, and human waste, several human corpses lay sprawled in the muck.

The bodies were hideously distorted, appearing like mummified husks, withered and dehydrated to an unnatural degree.

Yet, because they were soaked in water, they were simultaneously bloated and shriveled. The skin had ruptured and sloughed off from the tension between the swelling and the decay, exposing the sickening internal structures beneath.

Between the dissolving muscle and fat, one could see shards of shattered bone. The necks and limbs of these corpses had been crushed by immense force, their postures as twisted as their forms.

"Damn it, what kind of thing did this to these people?" A middle-aged soldier in city guard armor used his sheathed sword to poke the back of a face-down corpse.

With the touch, the skin and muscle on the back dissolved like mud, turning into a foul, paste-like substance that clung to the soldier's scabbard.

"Ugh, disgusting." Seeing the red-and-white sludge stuck to his scabbard, the soldier instinctively shook it off and rinsed the scabbard in the water.

But how clean was the water near a sewer outlet? As a wave of stench hit his nostrils, the man couldn't take it and threw the scabbard away.

"Ugh...!" There were about a dozen soldiers who had arrived with him, and many began to retch at the sight of the corpses, their faces half-bloated and half-withered.

It wasn't just psychological discomfort; the smell of decay mixed with the inherent stench of the sewer was physiologically unbearable, and the uncontrollable vomiting was the body’s protest against such a wretched environment.

"Bad luck, how did we get stuck with this chore? It’s disgusting. You’re the one in charge of the drainage, right? You’re the one who reported this."

A young soldier, steadying his helmet which had tilted during his retching, turned toward a figure nearby and asked with a sharp, impatient tone.

Standing there was a timid-looking old man. Though short, his gaunt frame revealed surprising muscle definition. Several bottles and jars of unknown purpose hung from his body, and the staff in his hand looked slick and polished from years of use.

"Yes, yes, it was me..." The old man’s voice was hoarse and grating, carrying a hint of suppressed fear.

"What’s going on here? Why are there so many dead people all of a sudden?"

"I don't know... usually, dead bodies float down here often, but they’re always fully bloated. We have to handle them to prevent them from being possessed by ghosts and reused."

"But when I arrived early this morning, I saw all these bodies. I knew something was wrong right away. These corpses aren't pale—dead bodies soaked in water always turn white. These are mummified. I reported it immediately. They only look a bit bloated now because they’ve been in the water for so long."

"So you don't have any other information?" The soldier frowned at the man whose duty was to manage the sewer outlet.

"I... I really only know that much. I haven't seen mummified corpses like this in decades. What comes out of the sewers is either completely rotted or bloated. These mummies... I think something is very wrong."

The old man’s voice trembled, seemingly terrified both by what had happened in the sewer and by the soldier’s irritation.

"So you reported it to the city guard just because you had a suspicion? Do you have any idea how busy we are?" As the old man feared, the soldier grew indignant, annoyed that they had been summoned over mere speculation.

The environment here was so vile they wanted to leave immediately, yet their duty prevented them from simply walking away.

Glancing at the old man, the young soldier had no intention of investigating further. Bodies appearing in the sewers happened several times a day in the Royal City.

Someone killed in a vendetta, a conflict in the black market—it was all too normal. Some bodies got stuck in the sewers and rotted away, while others were flushed out intact.

To this soldier, the old man’s talk of mummies was hardly worth the effort.

"Forget it. Sam, go in and take a look. Use a magic crystal to record it, and then we’re leaving. Damn it, calling the city guard just because a few bodies came out of the sewer."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam, the unlucky soldier who had tossed his scabbard, covered his nose and mouth with his hand and agreed in a muffled voice.

"No, wait! This is really wrong. The state of those bodies wouldn't allow them to float for that long. When he touched it, it turned to mud. There’s no way they could have hit the walls in the sewer like that. If these mummies came out, it means they died right near this straight section of the pipe!"

The old man’s voice interrupted Sam’s progress. Sam looked back at the young soldier, seemingly swayed by the old man’s logic and fearful of the potential threat.

"What are you looking at? I’ll pay you extra, alright? A quarter of the reward, no more." The young man waved his hand impatiently. He knew exactly what the old man was like—using his words to squeeze a bit more coin out of him.

Sure enough, Sam flashed a triumphant grin and stepped into the sewer, where the environment was likely even worse than the outlet. A torch flared to life, and old Sam disappeared into the darkness of the sewer entrance.

Glancing at the old man by the drainage outlet, whose expression seemed strangely off, the youth spat on the ground in annoyance; had the old fool not run his mouth, he would never have had to cough up a quarter of his share to send old Sam into that wretched hole.

Ignoring the old man who so irritated him, the youth joined the other city guards, waiting for old Sam to finish recording the interior with a crystal so they could report back.

After five or six minutes, old Sam reappeared in their sight, torch in hand; he waved his arms and shouted,

"The old man was right, the killer is nearby, though he’s dead now—looks like a gang war in the sewers. Don't know which side used dark magic, but it turned them both into mummies. Bad luck, one of them floated out with me just now."

As Sam spoke, a face-down corpse drifted from the sewer mouth, its flesh withered and gaunt, beginning to bloat as it soaked up the foul water.

"Fine, we get it. If you're done, let's go—why are you just standing there?" The youth glanced at the corpse, then turned away in disgust, haunted by the memory of the hideous faces he had seen before.

"Hm?" Sam offered a strange, twisted smile, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in the air.

The youth raised an eyebrow; he knew that gesture well—it meant a windfall. A gang war, likely over loot rather than turf. Seeing Sam’s behavior, it was clearly the former.

He scanned his surroundings; the other guards wore knowing smiles as they moved toward Sam.

The old man, seeing the guards distracted, gritted his teeth and slipped away while no one was watching.

The squad of guards and old Sam descended into the sewers, torches held high.

What they failed to notice was that the face of the desiccated corpse floating in the water wore a look of sheer, petrified terror—the face of Sam himself.

An hour later, the entire city guard squad went silent, and the mission status was transferred to the nearest organization capable of handling the threat.