The entire underground wine cellar seemed to come alive in an instant and began to writhe.
As the sound of peeling echoed, limestone fractured and collapsed from all directions.
Like veins composed of tentacles, like worms, they spread throughout the underground space.
With increasingly intense writhing, they began to emit a shrill sound—or rather, what wasn't so much a "sound" but more like the noise of glass being scraped.
Yet the limestone did not entirely shatter; it left behind traces, becoming sharp spikes.
On every spike, there were spiral markings. They resembled some sort of rune, or perhaps a language.
"Are these...teeth?"
Isabel felt a slight inspiration and spoke subconsciously.
And as the ground began to writhe and roll, Sherlock instantly chose an appropriate spell and cast it without delay.
—Petrification Light!
It was a spell mimicked from the Path of Dusk.
Sherlock slightly pressed his staff against the "ground," close-range shooting.
