CHAPTER 124: CHAPTER 124 - HAND

What awaited them was a vast chamber. At its center pulsed a glowing orb.

The dungeon core.

Its light throbbed like a living heart.

But that wasn’t what shocked the group.

All around them, rifts in space tore through the air. Dozens of them.

Some were no larger than a meter across while the biggest gaped nearly five meters wide.

A few of the smaller ones had fused together, twisting into jagged, unnatural shapes. Looming above, the largest rift hung directly over the dungeon core like a wound in the sky.

From each tear, waves of miasma spilled out, saturating the chamber. Even the core itself seemed corrupted.

Its glow was no longer radiant... but dreadful and oppressive.

Lucien’s pulse quickened. His eyes widened at the foul energy staining the air.

’What lies beyond these rifts...? Why is so much miasma bleeding through...?’

Even Cielius and Sebas couldn’t mask their unease. Strangely, no monsters prowled here... Only the suffocating stillness of corruption.

At last, they moved closer to the nearest rift. The pressure of its energy was revolting. Lucien’s instinct screamed to close it.

He quickly pulled out Anchor Stones and hurled them around the tear.

The rift flickered. Its surface rippled like disturbed water. Then.... It stabilized again.

Lucien’s face darkened. "No effect?!"

Lucien started to reach toward the rift but Cielius caught his arm.

"Grandson, be careful. This rift is sealed from our side. We won’t be able to enter it. No one will."

To prove his point, Cielius conjured a spell and hurled it into the tear. The magic struck the rift’s mouth then halted in place like a fly caught in a web.

Within moments, the miasma gnawed it away until nothing remained.

The group fell silent.

Then a thought struck Lucien. "Could the gargoyle rings and statues... have come from the other side of these rifts?"

His words echoed through the chamber. No one answered but the idea fit too well.

The oppressive aura.

The alien craftsmanship.

No person in this world could have forged such things.

Lucien exhaled sharply and smirked, trying to dispel the heavy air. "If that’s the case, they’ve got terrible taste. My Crafting Division could make better designs."

Still, they all understood what it meant.

Whatever was beyond the rift could reach them... but no one here could pass through in return.

And whatever might emerge... best not to imagine.

Finally, Lucien pulled another item from his inventory. A shimmering strand of dark silk.

"These strands are called Void Thread," he explained as he held it up. "It can sew rifts shut. The problem is..." He tilted his head with a faint grin. "I don’t know how to sew."

Sebas’s eyes lit up the moment he saw the Void Thread in Lucien’s hands.

"Allow me, Young Lord," he volunteered without hesitation.

Lucien turned to him. "Since when do you know how to sew, Sebas?"

Sebas hesitated then cleared his throat. "Ahem. My... former job. I used to sew bad people’s mouths shut."

Lucien blinked then sighed inwardly. ’I really shouldn’t have asked.’

From the side, Cielius’s brow twitched. He stepped forward and gave Sebas a light smack on the head.

"You! So you’re the bad influence who keeps teaching my grandson such methods? Now you’re even giving him ideas!"

What followed was a short barrage of smacks, punctuated with scolding.

"Sir Cielius! I was just joking! Ouch—!" Sebas flinched but didn’t even dare dodge. Cielius was simply too fast.

Lucien watched the scene with amusement. It wasn’t often that Sebas who was usually calm and composed, broke into a sweat under someone else’s glare.

Finally, Sebas rubbed his sore head and exhaled.

Then, without another word, he conjured an Ice Needle.

This was his first attribute, long perfected under the notes Lucien handed them. With practiced ease, he tied the Void Thread to the needle’s eye.

And then... he began to sew.

At first, none of them were certain it would work.

But the next moment proved it.

The needle pierced the air...

...and the Void Thread flared to life.

Sebas’s eyes widened.

It felt as though he was stitching into something solid. He felt like there were invisible seams hidden in the very fabric of space.

Each motion drew resistance yet the thread slid smoothly as if meant for this purpose.

The rift shuddered. With every pull of the thread, its warped edges tightened. It shrunk under Sebas’s steady hand.

When at last he finished his work, Sebas gave the thread a final tug. The tear quivered violently then collapsed in on itself.

Light rippled across the stitches.

The Void Thread fused into the surrounding air until the rift vanished completely as though it had never existed. The choking miasma also ceased.

Lucien’s mouth twitched. ’Just how many mouths did he sew shut to get this skilled...?’

But Sebas wasn’t done.

With practiced rhythm, he moved from one rift to the next. Small ones first. He closed them swiftly before advancing to the larger tears. Each stitch was smooth and precise.

Lucien and Cielius watched in silence, oddly captivated by the strange but satisfying display.

From time to time, Cielius conjured platforms to lift Sebas high enough to reach the rifts high up in the air.

One by one, the tears sealed shut. The oppressive miasma thinned.

Until finally, only the largest rift remained... The one looming above the dungeon core.

But then—

A tremor.

The entire chamber shuddered as though the earth itself were breaking apart. Dust rained from the dungeon ceiling while the group struggled to steady their footing.

The quake subsided as suddenly as it began. For a heartbeat, there was silence.

Then it came.

A voice.

Hoarse and stony. It rumbled from the massive rift above the dungeon core.

"Hmm... How can an insect with divine energy be here...?"

Lucien froze.

His chest tightened. Not only at the words but at the crushing aura that bled into the chamber along with them. The atmosphere thickened pressing down like a mountain.

His knees almost buckled until the purified gargoyle rings on their hands lit up. The aura shattered against the glow and suddenly the weight was gone.

The voice seethed. "You even stole my things and changed them... Better to kill you now before you become the root of our troubles."

The rift shifted, stretching wider.

And they saw it.

A colossal hand emerged... forcing its way through the tear. The rift warped as if straining to contain it. The dark energy rippled outward in waves.

Dread rooted the group to the spot. Whatever being this was, it was no ordinary monster. Its very presence screamed calamity.

Lucien’s heart pounded. His instincts screamed at him to move. To flee.

But it all happened too fast.

But then... the emerging figure halted.

The rift was too narrow for its full body to pass through. Only its massive hand pushed outward.

The fingers with long and sharp nails curled like the jaws of a predator.

That single hand radiated danger.

Lucien’s instincts screamed. Every fiber of his being told him this was death.

The hand twitched... then flicked its fingers toward him.

"Grandson!"

Cielius flashed in front of Lucien, layering barrier after barrier in desperate succession.

The colossal force struck.

Each barrier shattered like glass.

Cielius gritted his teeth. He conjured more but nothing held. The attack pressed closer. Unstoppable.

And then... before it could land, another figure moved.

Sebas.

In a blur, he threw himself between them and the descending force.

The strike connected.

The impact thundered through the chamber, hurling Sebas against the dungeon wall. The shockwave ripped outward, flinging Cielius and Lucien to the far side of the room.

Lucien hit the ground hard, coughing blood. He staggered.

’Impossible...’

With his current body, he could withstand even a Tier 9’s strike without injury.

But this...

"Grandpa Ciel! Sebas! Are you okay?!"

Cielius pushed himself up, wiping the blood from his lips. His eyes narrowed. It was sharp with anger and concern.

"I’m fine, grandson. But Sebas..."

The words made Lucien’s chest tighten. He spun around...

...and froze.

"Sebas!!!"

Blood pooled beneath him. It was dark and spreading fast.

His body was mangled.

His breath was ragged.

And each cough sprayed crimson across the floor.

His life force was flickering, fading by the second.

Panic surged through Lucien. "No... no!"

Cielius knelt beside him, summoning Water Heal. A soothing glow enveloped Sebas...

...but instead of closing wounds, it made him convulse violently. Blood spilled from his mouth in choking bursts.

Lucien’s desperation grew. He slammed his hands forward, pouring light magic into Sebas. The glow wrapped him...

But it did nothing. His injuries remained.

The bleak energy clinging to the attack had poisoned the damage, corrupting it so completely that normal magic couldn’t touch it.

Lucien’s pulse raced. His heart pounded.

Right now, he was truly panicking.

’Damn it... even healing won’t work...’

But then—

A hoarse voice rasped out.

"Young Lord... cough, cough..."

Lucien’s head snapped toward him. "Don’t talk, idiot!"

But Sebas went on as blood slipped past his lips.

"I already saw my life flash before my eyes... I’m sorry... I never told you my story."

"Sebas... don’t... just hold on. Wait..." Lucien’s voice cracked as he tried to think.

Yet Sebas’s expression dimmed. There’s a crestfallen acceptance in his eyes.

"I want to stay... to see it all to the end... but this body can’t keep up anymore. Young Lord... forgive me... for being this weak..."

Another violent cough. Blood spattered the ground. His pupils trembled yet he still smiled faintly at Lucien as though gazing at a son.

Lucien’s teeth ground together. "Stop it with your damn drama! Who said you’re going to die?!"

His instincts screamed. Healing was useless. The bleak energy resisted everything.

Then it struck him. ’If magic doesn’t work... then what about drops?!’

He fumbled through his INVENTORY. He frantically searched through the piles of loot.

"There has to be something... anything..."