Chapter Seven: Deep Within the Tunnel

Faced with this sudden assault, chaos erupted within the adventuring party. The Clawterrors were among the apex predators of the subterranean food chain, their bodies encased in shells as tough as stone, like suits of impenetrable armor. Their enormous pincers, sharp as shears, could effortlessly slice a person in two. Fierce, battle-hardened, and tireless, they were a formidable foe for any band of adventurers.

A monstrous creature nearly three meters tall sprang up beside Jenn, its beak agape as it let out a shrill, grating cry. With a gust of wind, its massive claws tore through the darkness, lunging straight for the mage.

But Jenn's reaction was far swifter than the Clawterror had anticipated.

Unlike the mercenaries, who panicked in the face of ambush, Jenn remained calm. As a mage, he should have kept his distance and waited for the right moment to strike, yet he did not retreat. In fact, as the Clawterror charged, he did not even move—he merely extended his hand and pointed forward.

In the next instant, a torrent of roaring flames erupted mercilessly from Jenn’s fingertip, engulfing the Clawterror entirely. These were no ordinary flames; they writhed and twisted, like serpents driven by a conscious will, slithering with unnatural speed through the cracks in the monster’s stony armor.

Before its claws could crush Jenn’s skull, the Clawterror’s movements stopped. Wracked with agony, it staggered backward, its protective shell now transformed into a deadly trap. The relentless fire devoured its flesh, burning ever brighter and fiercer.

Now the Clawterror resembled a walking stone furnace, flames raging within with no escape. The tough armor that had once shielded it now trapped the fire inside, subjecting the creature to excruciating torment.

A sharp crack split the air.

At that moment, as the Clawterror struggled to break free of the flames, Enoya leapt to Jenn’s defense. With a swift motion, she grasped at the air, then lashed out—a whip of lightning coalesced in the necromancer girl’s hand, trailing dazzling afterimages as it struck the beast’s massive body.

Thunder boomed.

The impact of the electrified whip upon the Clawterror reverberated through the entire tunnel, sending cascades of dust pouring down. The echo was so powerful that even the others nearby struggled to keep their footing. The luckless Clawterror was flung across the passage, crashing against a wall, its immense body buried beneath a shower of shattered stone—leaving no sign of what had once lurked there.

The thunderous blast drew the attention of all engaged in battle. Lightning like that, a phenomenon of the surface world, was a rare and novel experience for anyone dwelling underground—especially when it seemed to explode right beside one’s ear.

Meanwhile, the banshees began to move.

They materialized from the void, releasing piercing screams, arms outstretched as they swooped toward the Clawterrors. To the eye, these banshees appeared delicate and fragile, as if one swipe from a Clawterror could shatter them to pieces.

But this was not the case. Furious attacks passed harmlessly through the banshees’ incorporeal forms, unable to harm them in the slightest. In contrast, the banshees’ hands slipped with ease through the Clawterrors’ impervious armor—untouched even by blades—and seized hold of what lay within.

Soul and life.

Sensing death’s approach, the Clawterrors fought back. Abandoning the mangled body of a bear goblin, it shrieked and thrashed, retreating in desperation. Yet the banshee clung to it relentlessly, as if an invisible chain bound them together. She opened her gaping, hollow eyes and mouth, and a stream of white light began to pour from the Clawterror’s eyes and mouth, condensing into a silvery brook that the banshee drank in.

At once, the lifeless hulk of the creature crashed to the ground.

The ambush was as swift to end as it was to begin; in the blink of an eye, all five Clawterrors were utterly destroyed. These monsters were terrifying beasts to any adventurer, yet to the undead, all living things were but fragile playthings.

Even so, Velna’s party had not escaped unscathed. Five bear goblins and three orc warriors had perished in the onslaught, all falling in the initial attack. Many others suffered wounds of varying severity.

“Bloody hell!”

While ordering her mercenaries to strip the dead for anything useful—“recycling,” as she called it—Velna paced back and forth in frustration. This was an ill-omened start to their expedition; to run into five Clawterrors at once was a rarity in the underworld. Even Velna wasn’t sure whether her luck was good or bad.

She glanced again at Jenn and Enoya, standing not far away. This time, hesitation flickered in her eyes.

Though Jenn had not shown off during the fight, Velna had seen enough to know he was a formidable mage. Outwardly, his actions seemed unremarkable—nothing that any competent mage could not do. But Velna understood well just how powerful his magic truly was.

Even for mages, Clawterrors were dreadful foes. Their sturdy carapaces could repel not just weapons, but spells as well. Yet Jenn had manipulated the flames to slip through the cracks in their armor with ease—a mastery of elemental fire that Velna had only seen from the most powerful archmages in the dark elf cities.

And besides, Jenn was a necromancer; elemental magic was not even his specialty. Had he slain a Clawterror with necromancy, Velna would have been hardly surprised. But for a necromancer to dispatch one with an elementalist’s spell—this was truly astonishing.

If her heat-sensitive dark elven vision hadn’t confirmed that there was a living, breathing being beneath that black cloak, Velna might have suspected she was dealing with a lich who had endured for centuries.

Jenn sensed Velna’s probing gaze, but he paid it no mind. At that moment, he stood before a Clawterror corpse, speaking in hushed tones with his adjutant.

“This doesn’t make sense… Why would Clawterrors come here? This isn’t their hunting ground, and there’s nothing here that would interest them.”

Staring down at the dead creature, Jenn shook his head. He was well acquainted with their habits—there was a Clawterror nest near his own dungeon, after all.

“There’s definitely something strange about them,” Enoya agreed. Clawterrors were stupid, but not fools. Yet their fighting just now had been no better than a pack of idiots. If they were truly so easy to deal with, Jenn and Enoya would have cleared out the nest near their dungeon long ago.

“They’re definitely not right,” Jenn replied, trusting Enoya’s judgment. The reason was plain: his system panel was already displaying the battle log before his eyes.

[Banshee Guard attacks ‘Controlled Clawterror’, dealing 20 x 3 damage.]

[Banshee Guard attacks ‘Controlled Clawterror’, dealing 30 x 3 damage. Critical hit +5.]

[Banshee Guard kills ‘Controlled Clawterror’, gaining 130 experience points.]

…

Seeing this, Jenn’s heart sank. Controlling a Clawterror was no easy feat. Killing them was simple enough for Jenn, but making them obey was another matter entirely. Clearly, these Clawterrors had been manipulated by something—or someone. Moreover, whoever did this must have already noticed their arrival; otherwise, there would have been no ambush here.

“It seems we’re about to face a troublesome enemy.”

With a final glance at the Clawterror’s corpse, Jenn murmured to himself. As for who might be behind this, he had no clue. It wasn’t for lack of leads, but rather that in the Underdark, there were far too many races capable of such a feat. In the worst case, there might even be a mind flayer at work.

If that were true, then even as a demon, Jenn would find it… somewhat troublesome.

Yes, somewhat.

“Master Mage.”

As Jenn frowned in thought, a voice called out nearby. He looked up to see Velna standing uneasily at a distance. Sensing his gaze, her right hand twitched, as if she meant to do something, but in the end, she merely gripped her sword hilt, drew a sharp breath, and forced herself to calm down before addressing him.

“Master Mage, I’m sure you’ve noticed how dangerous it is here. I believe that if we continue to split up as before, it will only lead to unnecessary losses on both sides. If possible…”

Here, Velna hesitated. She hadn’t wanted to make this request, but her subordinates were clearly hoping the necromancer would join them. After all, they had witnessed his power firsthand. The beast she had failed to slay with all her might was dispatched by him in an instant. Such strength was rare indeed.

Thus, her party hoped the necromancer might “look after” them a little—after all, they shared the same goal, so why not help each other?

Velna was reluctant, but with her followers pressing, she had no choice but to ask. She too wished to minimize her losses; otherwise, even if she succeeded in her mission, she’d gain little upon returning to Brandonstone.

She knew all too well what the gray dwarves were like.

Jenn, however, offered no objection. Instead, he merely waved his hand and replied,

“I understand. I’ll accompany you.”