Chapter Thirty-Eight: Dissonant Murmurs

Humans?

Jenn withdrew his gaze and reached up to adjust his glasses. There was no telepathy between him and Elise, nor was it needed; for Jenn, it was enough to have a single xenomorph shadow her, carrying out round-the-clock surveillance. Because of this, Jenn observed the conflict between Elise and those humans with absolute clarity.

Jenn found nothing surprising in Elise’s choice. The surface and the depths are two worlds apart, where tolerance, harmony, and coexistence are not even considered. For the denizens of the shadowy underground, surface-dwellers are loathsome and dangerous vermin, best disposed of swiftly. Likewise, those from the surface rarely descend into the darkness out of idle curiosity alone.

In a sense, the conflict between the underground and surface is as irreconcilable as that between the Celestial Realm and the Abyss. Surface-dwellers regard the denizens of the depths as sinister, evil, and cunning misfits—better absent from the world entirely. Meanwhile, the inhabitants of the shadowy depths see surface folk as base, shameless, perilous mongrels. Aside from the mind flayers, most races here, like Elise and her kin, were originally exiled from the surface. Their hatred for surface races matures like aged wine, growing more potent with time.

Especially for dark elves such as Verna, from childhood they are steeped in tales of the evil crimes of their surface kin, the interminable wars, and the betrayal—how, at the height of their struggle, those rotten elves stabbed them in the back, left them as bait and cannon fodder for overwhelming enemies, destroyed their tribes, slaughtered their women and children. Not even their desperate pleas softened the cruelty of the surface elves. In the end, they were forced to abandon their homeland and seek refuge in the shadows, forever cursing and bearing the burden of pain.

Thus, had those humans encountered Verna instead of Elise, the outcome would have differed little.

As for Jenn himself, he felt nothing for these humans. If they were Earth’s humans, perhaps he would have felt a spark of kinship. But alas, the humans of this world are entirely different; though their appearance matches his conception of humanity, what does that matter?

Jenn is no longer human. He does not serve their interests, nor sit in their councils; one’s loyalty lies where one’s position is, and only from there can one speak of other matters. There is no happy ending for those whose hearts remain elsewhere; in Hollywood, aliens who stubbornly champion humanity meet only death. Jenn had no desire to be the protagonist of such art-house tragedies.

What concerned Jenn was not Elise’s act of killing these humans, but the humans themselves.

The shadowy depths are a vast and gloomy underground realm. To travel between here and the surface takes at least half a month, not to mention the treacherous journey: labyrinthine caverns, lurking monsters in perpetual darkness, all enough to break the spirit of any expedition. Add to that the elusive water sources, scarce food supplies, and the eternal absence of daylight, and any surface army would be driven mad.

Yet this does not mean surface-dwellers are utterly barred from reaching the depths.

Long ago, a protracted war broke out between the shadowy depths and the surface. The denizens of darkness dreamed of reclaiming the surface, of regaining what they had lost.

But the surface would not tolerate such an “invasion.” Under the united banner of the Sanctuary Order, elves, dwarves, humans, and other surface races formed a coalition army that plunged into the depths, intent on exterminating the “dark and evil monsters” once and for all.

Faced with this onslaught, the denizens of the shadows set aside their differences. Mind flayers, dark elves, and gray dwarves formed their own underground coalition, launching a frenzied counterattack upon the surface. The war raged for a hundred and thirty-five years. Both sides hurled all manner of forces into the fray—from constructs to dragons, angels to demons—with over a million casualties. In the end, the Sanctuary Order summoned the God of War, Marka, who descended into the depths in divine form.

Driven to desperation by the surface assault, the dark elves went mad, sacrificing a hundred thousand captives to open portals for the three great demon legions.

Ultimately, the war ended in mutual ruin. All three demon generals perished, and the God of War Marka fell, dragged eternally into the Abyss, never to rise again. His divine corpse remains pinned to the Mount of Judgment, a monument to the demonkind’s victory over the Celestial Realm.

A war claiming a true god and three demon kings is a rarity in the history of the entire Klein Continent. Afterward, bereft of divine favor, the surface coalition retreated in panic. The devastated races of the depths had no interest in pursuing the defeated, instead withdrawing to lick their wounds and recover. From then on, ties between the shadowy depths and the Abyss grew stronger, until finally they severed all ties with the surface and embraced the darkness.

Back then, the surface coalition could not have maintained such a massive force in the depths by relying solely on expeditions. After the first wave arrived, they combined the powers of grand wizards, dwarves, and elves to construct teleportation gates within the depths. Through these portals, the surface could easily send reinforcements into the underground, maintaining a steady supply of troops for their assault.

After the war, most portals were buried in ruins or destroyed, but many survived, serving as outposts for surface races to monitor the depths. Occasionally, surface warriors would use these portals to enter the shadowy realm, scouting its condition—though “striking at evil” always made for a convenient pretext.

If Jenn were to explain it, these portals are essentially dungeon entrances for surface races. Whenever they wish to level up, acquire gear, or defeat a boss, they call it a “trial,” assemble a party, and travel through the portal into the depths, wreaking havoc before departing in glory and with enhanced status.

No wonder the denizens of the depths are so resentful.

What Jenn paid special attention to were the portals themselves. In the Abyssal library, he had once read similar accounts. One previous son of the Demon King had built his dungeon, either unfortunately or fortuitously, right next to a portal. His dungeon became the go-to destination for heroes seeking to clear dungeons.

Sadly, the real world offers no difficulty settings. The moment those idiots cheerfully entered the dungeon, thinking they’d chosen a normal scenario, they found themselves facing nightmare mode. Their fate was obvious—the Demon King’s army swiftly dispatched the foolish invaders, then traced the source to the portal. After seizing the portal, they moved on to the surface, ultimately destroying two or three nations.

That is the crux of the matter.

Indeed, Jenn’s concern was not these humans from the surface, but what they represented. Judging by their numbers, there were neither too many nor too few—none of the fatigue of a long journey, suggesting they hadn’t arrived on foot. Most likely, they had used a portal to enter the depths.

This meant a portal was likely nearby.

That was Jenn’s true objective. A portal is a valuable asset; with it, Jenn could reach the surface. The skirmishes in the depths are insignificant—the ultimate goal for the Demon King’s progeny is always to invade the surface, to let those basking in sunlight and divine radiance experience destruction, despair, and death.

Jenn was no exception. He felt no particular revulsion or struggle toward invading the surface; after all, considering others’ welfare while one’s own life is at stake might be noble, but is hardly practical. Even if Jenn offered himself in service to the surface and died, what would change? The demons would not accept such a fool’s actions, surface-dwellers would never know of his existence, and nothing would be different—his siblings would still launch their attacks, mercilessly sweeping away all opposition, even his two sisters.

Yet Jenn had his own plans.

Truth be told, Elise was still too inexperienced; had she left any survivors or taken a captive, his intelligence gathering would have been much easier… Well, it was a perfect opportunity to mete out another lesson for the young lady.

If Elise knew what Jenn was thinking at that moment, one can only wonder how she would react.

Jenn shook himself from these musings and looked ahead. The goblins in the cavern were now completely exterminated. Before Jenn, atop a stone platform surrounded by the shattered nests, lay a jet-black stone, glowing with a strange magical light. The goblins seemed to have revered it as a divine object, and this was the very reason Jenn had come here.

Jenn ascended the platform, approaching the stone, and studied it closely. At first glance, it resembled a giant dinosaur egg, its surface smooth as a river pebble and etched with eerie patterns. Its darkness radiated an evil aura, mingling with violet light to become the brightest gem in this place. Jenn placed his hand upon the stone’s surface.

Almost immediately, a system notification appeared before his eyes.

[Dark Magic Stone acquired. Dark Sanctuary construction now possible.]