Splash—!
Fernand burst out from the water's surface.
The pitch-black darkness of the underwater cave greeted him, but he quickly drew a magic lamp from his sub-space and lit the area around him.
"Never thought I'd end up back here."
Though he had proposed to Aint that they remake the Bell of Fasa together, Fernand had come to this underwater cave alone.
Only later had it dawned on him—
'Wait… Aint doesn't even know I was here before, does he?'
And he shouldn't know. Not now, not ever.
'Too hasty.'
In his rush to recreate the Bell as quickly as possible, Fernand had nearly overlooked something crucial.
Thankfully, he'd realized it before it was too late.
He had ended his conversation with Aint by casually asking whether the Armian family still preserved the Bell's construction method—
and then, alone, set out for the underwater cavern.
After all, no one needed to know how he'd discovered this place.
Of course, there could still be traps—or perhaps another monster nesting here, like the water dragon before—but that was fine.
He had a bodyguard who could be summoned anytime, unseen by anyone's eyes.
"Wooden."
Koom!
Released from its pendant, Wooden expanded its body—about 1.8 meters tall, roughly human-sized.
The excited golem drew its back-mounted sword and gave it a few light swings.
Slash!
A massive boulder split cleanly in half.
Koom-koom!
"Don't go praying for monsters to show up."
Calming the overly eager golem, Fernand proceeded slowly along the path.
Normally, magical lamps would have been installed along the ceiling, but Fernand himself had removed them all last time, leaving only faint traces in the stone.
After passing through a long corridor, he arrived at the open chamber where the divine spirit herbs had once grown and where the water dragon had made its lair.
Now, only the marks of its rampage remained.
Koom?
"Yes, this is where the water dragon was."
Koom-koom!
"Why did I fight it alone? I didn't. Not really."
Lately, he couldn't help wondering if Wooden was truly a wood spirit. The thing acted more like a battle-crazed berserker.
'I get it, though.'
With a body like that, anyone would want to test its limits.
First, Fernand inspected the place where the mithril vein had been.
He'd mined it in a hurry last time, so perhaps some had been left behind.
"Nothing."
As expected, meticulous as he was, he hadn't left even a fragment.
"Then next…"
He turned his gaze toward the pit he'd seen earlier—
the same one mentioned in the prophecy, where the water dragon had fallen.
That must have been where Aint had mined adamant.
"It's deep."
He leaned forward and peered down. A bottomless abyss stared back.
He cast a small light spell, a sphere no larger than an acorn, and sent it drifting downward—
but even as it descended far beyond its range, the bottom never appeared.
"Hmm."
What could lie beneath?
Maybe nothing. Maybe traps.
Either way, Fernand wasn't inclined to risk himself finding out.
"Wooden."
Koom?
"Check it for me."
With a small motion, Fernand raised the ground beneath Wooden's feet.
Before the golem could react, the platform tipped, and Wooden tumbled straight into the pit.
Kwoooom?!
The darkness swallowed its black body whole, the only trace of it the two crimson lights rapidly shrinking below—
eyes filled with shock and betrayal.
Fernand couldn't help but chuckle.
So the stories were true—spirits really were emotional creatures.
"Still falling, Wooden?"
Contractors and spirits could communicate even across great distances, as long as they weren't separated by another plane.
For normal spirit-summoners, the farther a spirit was sent, the more mana it cost to sustain the connection—
but since Fernand used a golem as the vessel, that limitation didn't apply.
Kwooooooom!
The sound that echoed back was trembling with outrage.
"How could I push you? Technically, I didn't push—I just raised the ground under your feet. But does that really matter?"
Koom-koom!
"If I'd gone first and there'd been traps, that would've been much worse, don't you think?"
Koom-koom!
"You'll be fine. Don't forget—you have the strongest body in the world.
Consider this a good test of its durability."
…Kwoom?
Ah, now there was curiosity instead of anger.
"Exactly. If you want, you can drop all the way down without any safeguards. You won't break."
Kwoo… koom!
The voice cut off suddenly. Fernand took that as the sign that Wooden had reached the bottom.
"Wooden, how far down was it?"
After a pause, the reply came.
Kwooooom! Koom-koom!
"That wasn't what I asked. I didn't mean, 'Are you scratched?'"
Kwo-gu-gu-gu!
"Not hurt at all? Congratulations. Now—how deep?"
Kwooo-woo!
"You just kept falling, huh…?"
Fernand sighed lightly and asked again, calm but firm.
"Be specific. The measurement enchantments in your core should be able to calculate the depth easily."
Kwoooom.
At last, the answer came.
"Six hundred sixty-six meters? …Really."
A devilish number, that.
Could it be not the First Emperor's creation but a demon's trap instead?
"Wooden, anything down there—traps, monsters, fiends, demons?"
Fernand swallowed dryly, ready to reverse-summon the golem at a moment's notice.
The last possibility was unlikely, but he always prepared for the worst.
Koom-koom!
"None? Good."
He exhaled in relief.
Koom! Kwoo-woo-woom!
"Something strange down there?"
Interesting.
With the vanguard's report confirming it was safe, Fernand stepped forward.
Grind—
Stone rose from the wall beneath his feet, forming a platform.
It bore him gently downward, slowly descending into the abyss.
'If it's 666 meters deep, there's no way Aint fell all the way to the bottom.'
There must have been a ledge partway down—
and that was probably where Aint had found the adamant ore.
'But did Aint really take everything?'
The situation back then had been urgent, and Aint was no professional miner—neither was Gardner, for that matter.
Neither of them could properly read the ground or identify minerals. The prophecy's mention of only five kilograms of mithril was proof enough of their inexperience.
'Here it is.'
After descending about fifty meters, Fernand found what he'd been hoping for—
a rock jutting out of the wall, with a small hole leading deeper inside.
He widened the opening with magic and stepped in. Inside were clear traces of someone having dug into the earth and mined minerals.
"This is where the adamant was. Aint must've mined it."
Placing his hand on the disturbed soil, Fernand released mana from his Mana Heart, letting it seep rapidly into the earth.
His talent lay in earth magic—
and though his affinity for fire was even higher, he had chosen earth as his main element for a reason.
"Found it."
For moments exactly like this.
Buried deeper within, hidden beneath the stone, was around five kilograms of adamant—it would weigh far less after refining, of course.
Fernand's lips curled upward in satisfaction.
Koom-koom!
"I'm coming, don't rush me."
Gathering up all the adamant, Fernand resumed his descent—but then stopped short.
"…That's…"
About a hundred meters further down, he saw another outcropping of rock with a small, familiar-looking opening beyond it.
"…No way."
Suppressing his racing heart, he carefully entered—and there it was.
A cluster of purple-hued metal.
"…You've got to be kidding me. Is that… orichalcum?"
Mithril, adamant, and now orichalcum.
All three legendary metals, in one underwater cave.
Fernand could have wagered his entire fortune that this cavern had been man-made.
"Roughly twenty kilograms of orichalcum."
He mined it all, grinning with satisfaction, and continued downward again—
hoping, perhaps, for another miracle.
No such luck.
Still, the haul so far was incredible… though still not enough to forge the Bell of Fasa.
'If only there were more.'
That wish was answered in an unexpected way.
Fernand finally reached the bottom—and froze.
Koom-koom-koom!
Wooden was stomping in frustration, grumbling about how long he'd taken, but Fernand barely heard him.
"…Ah."
His eyes were fixed to the wall.
What he saw there—
was the most breathtaking sight of his entire life.
A sight that could make anyone among the richest people on the continent.
A sight of endless, glittering abundance.
One side of the cavern shimmered with deep turquoise.
Another blazed with dazzling silvery brilliance.
And yet another gleamed with radiant violet.
"…Jackpot."
Mithril, adamant, and orichalcum—
the three rarest and most legendary metals known to exist—
covered the entire cavern wall, glittering endlessly.
Was such a thing even possible?
Perhaps not—but right now, Fernand didn't care.
The joy of knowing all of this was his drowned out every other thought.
"…Good thing I came alone."
If anyone else had come, he'd have had to share.
Greedy eyes swept slowly across the wall, drinking in every glimmer of precious ore.
Kwoooom!
Then Wooden waved its hand frantically in front of him, snapping Fernand out of his daze.
Koom-koom!
It pointed to something—something, apparently, more important than the treasure that filled the chamber.
"What is it, Wooden? With all these legendary ores, what could possibly be more—"
There was something.
Following the golem's gesture, Fernand's gaze landed on a single plant growing between the ores.
A divine spirit herb—one that absorbed the energy of the minerals around it.
And since it was surrounded by all three legendary metals, its color was more radiant than any Itarium he'd ever seen.
It was enormous, too—less like a herb and more like a small tree sapling.
"…Now this is a jackpot."
He'd been worried ever since the Itarium in Altriarch had been stolen by some thief,
but this—this one—was even better.
"…Careful now. We need to dig it out—roots and all—"
Then, suddenly—
—BOOM!
The cavern shook.
—BOOM!
And again—
a deep, rhythmic sound.
—BOOM!
Slow, heavy footsteps.
And then he saw it.
A massive serpent—no, a dragon—slithering forward through the shadows.
Its body was thick and sinuous,
its head crowned with two sharp horns.
It had no wings—only fins along its back—
and four limbs that slammed into the ground with each step, shaking the cave.
Every breath it exhaled filled the air with a faint, toxic mist.
"…A Knucker?"
Similar to a water dragon, but far more monstrous—
a beast rather than a divine creature.
In the water, it was unrivaled.
Its venomous breath could melt through anything it touched.
And now, that monster glared at the intruder coveting what was its.
"…What kind of place is this?"
Mithril, adamant, orichalcum—
a water dragon above, and a knucker below.
Unbelievable.
The knucker opened its jaws, poison gathering in its maw.
Koom-koom-koom-koom!
Wooden—now towering eight meters tall—let out an eager roar, thrilled to finally have a worthy opponent, and lunged.
The two giants crashed together, rolling across the cavern floor.
Thankfully, the chamber was vast enough to contain their battle.
But that wasn't the problem.
"Of all things—it had to be a knucker!"
Fernand grit his teeth.
The creature's venom was so potent that even legendary metals could be corroded by it.
"Wooden! Don't let it open its mouth! Whatever you do!"
If the ores were damaged, it would be a disaster.
Fernand shouted the most desperate order he'd given in years.
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