Chapter 159 - 54: [Insect Path Ecology and Underground Secrets]

Chapter 159: Chapter 54: [Insect Path Ecology and Underground Secrets]

The labyrinth formed by the underground Insect Paths twisted and coiled, creating a crisscrossing, three-dimensional network of tunnels much like an ant nest.

This was no barren wasteland of darkness, however. Thriving flora and fauna flourished within it, transforming the space into a bizarre underground jungle. Luminescent fungi and hanging, lantern-like Fluorescent Grass Balls emitted a faint glow. The soft light illuminated the dark tunnels, casting shadows on the roots dangling from the ceiling, the lush ferns, the strange biological crusts of half-fungi and half-algae, the low shrubs, and the massive, fluffy fungal structures.

Where the sprouting Insect Path Trees brushed against the cavern ceiling, their tender top twigs and young leaves twisted and mutated. The moment they made contact with the soil of the cave walls, they transformed into root-like appendages, firmly burying themselves into the earth. The Insect Path Trees possessed a unique trait: they could sprout root structures from any part of their bodies. Within their leafy canopies and branches, roots intermingled, forming an anchor point wherever they touched the cavern walls. By driving deeply into the soil to secure themselves, they inadvertently created a perfect, natural support system for the tunnels.

Spiral grooves—scraped out by scaled excavators—still marked the solid walls. Embedded within were support frames made of Molten Stone. The surrounding soil had been heavily compacted, and sparse roots poked out from the crevices of the mud-brick-like earth, binding the tunnel’s shape together.

The tunnel floor was dry, stable, and almost entirely free of filth or fallen foliage. Three or four Rot Root Balls—looking much like single-horned taros—marched in a patrol line, wielding small twigs over their shoulders. They scoured the mottled shadows cast by the Insect Path plants for any dead branches or withered leaves.

This flourishing ecology had already begun attracting Magical Beasts from the surrounding area. Most of these newcomers possessed burrowing abilities and shared a mild symbiotic relationship with the Rot Root Balls. Following the trail of roots left by the Rot Root Balls, they had excavated their way into this new habitat to settle down.

Bizarre little eyes peeked out from within swollen, pipe-organ-shaped fungal structures. They belonged to a type of slug with tentacle-like limbs. Extending their eyestalks, they monitored their surroundings before occasionally spreading the soft membranes between their limbs to glide swiftly between the colossal fungal pipes.

Weasel-like shadows darted through the shrubs and under mushroom caps, gazing greedily at the soft-winged slugs gliding overhead. Suddenly, a furry, pointed snout snapped out from the gloom, snatching a plump slug out of the air before instantly retreating back into the darkness beneath a cap.

Palm-sized grasshoppers bounded through the undergrowth. One landed right in the middle of a cluster of pink tentacles. Instantly, the tentacles ensnared the insect, dragging it forcefully beneath the soil. A few seconds later, the tentacles breached the surface once more; the grasshopper was completely gone. Nestled between the flower-like array of tentacles were two small, twitching holes—the pink nose of a mole-like Magical Beast.

High above, several half-human-sized Insectoid Magical Beasts hung quietly upside down, curled in the shadows of the ceiling and the branches of the Insect Path Trees. Striking opportunistically, they thrust out their slender, segmented limbs to snatch up mice scurrying below. As they gorged themselves, tiny scraps of meat rained down onto the floor.

"Oya! Ooya!" The Rot Root Balls shook their little twigs in protest at the Insectoid Magical Beasts above. Using the sticks, they raked the fallen meat scraps into a pile. Scooping up the balls of minced meat with their tiny root-claws, they trotted off into a hidden tunnel entrance, hauling the refuse down into the lower root layers to be decomposed into humus.

Piercing through three intricate layers of this Insect Path ecology and plunging ever deeper underground, one would eventually arrive at a cavernous space the size of a grand hall.

The sparse, warm, dim-yellow glow of the Fluorescent Grass Balls faintly illuminated a magnificent Molten Stone gate up ahead. The heavy stone doors had been cast as a single monolithic piece using a massive amount of Molten Stone. Its surface was etched with intricate, breathtaking reliefs: the snowy mountains of the North, brutal wars across snowfields, exiled travelers, hunters from the desert, Warriors in Black Armor wielding Hammer Spears, empty Knight Armor brandishing swords and shields, battles of annihilation against mighty foes, a burning sky, fire and steel, four Demon Insects, and a path guarded by skeletons and rotting corpses.

At the very center of the mural lay two crossed hands. One, clad in Knight’s Hand Armor and wreathed in bone and tendrils of rotting flesh, wielded a sword. The other, clad in Claw-shaped Hand Armor and entwined with raw ore and Green Leaf Vines, hefted a Hammer Spear. The crossing of the sword and the Hammer Spear formed the massive crest of the Underground City.

The silhouettes of two thrones rested at the bottom of the grand relief, surrounded by Demon Race architects and Garden Masters. Curiously, the thrones were roughly the same size as the craftsmen surrounding them. This had been Samael’s explicit request. Originally, the towering thrones and the figures seated upon them were designed to occupy two-thirds of the mural. However, Samael had insisted on shrinking the thrones, shifting the centerpiece to the crest symbolizing the union between the Undead and the Demon Race. He also demanded that the silhouettes of all the Exiles—every single person who had participated in building this sanctuary—be included in the carving.

"Building this Underground City is an achievement shared by all. There is no need to magnify any single person’s contribution. We did not build all this for my sake, but for your own," he had told them. "The dead and I merely pave the road, so that the living might have a place to call home."

In the face of his repeated insistence, the craftsmen ultimately yielded to his wishes. This gesture moved the Exiles deeply. After all, when constructing an Underground City for any other Demon Monarch, no ordinary craftsmen would ever leave a mark in the architecture’s history, save for a select few trusted Demon Race aides and master technicians.

An Underground City was considered a glorious, monumental undertaking; lowly tools had no right to leave their names upon it. Yet Samael did not treat them as mere tools—even though countless signs pointed to the stark reality that the Demon Race had likely once been an artificial species, forged to serve as tools by the ancient gods.