Chapter 56: Beneath the Surface"Remind me why we’re doing this again?" Grace whispered as they descended into the cave entrance Elias had marked on their map.

    "Because you suggested it," Diana replied flatly. "And for some reason, everyone thought it was a good idea."

    [Me and my big mouth.]

    The cave mouth was unassuming. Just a gap between two large rocks at the base of a hill. But as they ventured deeper, the natural stone gave way to what was clearly a carved passage, with smooth walls and an even floor.

    "This isn’t a natural cave," Diana observed, her sword drawn and glowing faintly to provide light.

    "No kidding." Grace kept her rapier ready, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread in her stomach. "Who do you think built it?"

    "Definitely not humans." Diana ran her hand along the wall. "The stonework is too precise. Could be ancient angels."

    "Or something else entirely," Grace muttered.

    They continued in silence for several minutes. The air grew cooler and damp, with a faint earthen smell that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. But there was something else underneath it, a sour, rotting smell beneath the earthiness that made Grace wrinkle her nose.

    "Look," Diana said suddenly, pointing to the wall.

    Grace squinted at what appeared to be deliberate markings carved into the stone. As Diana brought her sword closer, the markings became clearer. Complex symbols that formed neat rows along the passage wall.

    "Runes," Grace said, tracing one with her finger. It tingled slightly at her touch. "Ancient ones. Can you read them?"

    "Not really," Diana shook her head.

    "Yeah, we’d probably need Petriel for this. She probably knows all about Earth-Tender writing."

    Diana snorted.

    "Your shy girlfriend."

    "She’s not my—" Grace sputtered, feeling her face heat up.

    "Relax, turnip girl." Diana moved her sword along the wall, illuminating more symbols. "What can you make out from these runes?"

    Grace forced herself to concentrate. Some of the pictograms were obvious enough—stylized figures with wings, trees, what looked like roots spreading beneath them.

    "It’s telling a story, I think," she said, moving along the wall. "See how the images progress? These winged figures must be angels. And look, they seem to be... fighting?"

    Diana leaned closer.

    "Not just fighting. Look at what they’re fighting over."

    Grace followed Diana’s gaze to a central image, a massive, intricate depiction of what could only be a root system, with a glowing core at its center.

    "The Root," Grace breathed. "It’s ancient. These carvings look thousands of years old."

    "And the angels are divided," Diana pointed out. "See? Some are trying to destroy it, others are defending it."

    "Angels fighting angels? Over a corrupted root?"

    "Who knows? Maybe it wasn’t always corrupted." Diana continued down the passage, examining more runes. "Maybe it was something else first. Something worth protecting."

    The tunnel began to slope downward more steeply. The walls became increasingly damp, with moisture beading on the stone. And then, disturbingly, they noticed thin vine-like growths emerging from cracks in the floor and walls.

    "I don’t like this," Grace murmured, eyeing a particularly thick vine that pulsed slightly, as if breathing.

    "Oh? And here I thought we were having a lovely stroll through a demon-infested underground tunnel." Diana’s sarcasm couldn’t quite hide the tension in her voice.

    The vines grew more numerous as they descended. Some even hung from the ceiling like twisted chandeliers. The air became heavy with the scent of wet earth and something sickeningly sweet, like overripe fruit.

    "We should go back," Grace suggested. "Get Mara and the others."

    "After coming this far? Not a chance." Diana pushed aside a curtain of hanging vines. "Besides, we’re just scouting, remember? No engaging the big bad Root directly."

    "Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who—"

    A wet, slithering sound cut her off. Grace froze, her rapier held out in front of her.

    "Please tell me that was your stomach," she whispered.

    "Afraid not." Diana stepped into a defensive stance.

    From the shadows ahead, something moved. Multiple somethings. Plant-zombies, like the ones they’d encountered in the forest, but... different. These were more plant than human, their bodies almost entirely composed of twisted vines and roots. Only the vaguest suggestion of human shape remained—a bulbous head, limb-like appendages, torsos swollen with vegetable matter.

    "Uh, Diana? They look angrier than the last batch."

    "Stronger too," Diana observed, eyeing their bulkier forms and thicker vine-limbs. "These ones have adapted to life underground."

    Grace gulped as she noticed the red numbers floating above the creatures that only she could see: 25, 27, 26, 30. Much higher than the forest ones.

    Five of them blocked the passage ahead, swaying slightly as if in an unfelt breeze.

    "What’s the play here?" Grace asked, counting exits (none) and advantages (also none).

    "You take the three on the left, I’ll take the two on the right."

    "That doesn’t seem fair."

    "Life isn’t fair, turnip girl."

    Before Grace could protest further, Diana charged the two larger plant-creatures, her golden sword slicing through vegetable matter with brutal efficiency. Green ichor sprayed the walls.

    [Guess we’re doing this now.]

    Grace darted toward her three opponents, using her smaller size to duck under a swinging vine-arm. Her rapier plunged into the first creature’s chest, seeking the corruption core. She found it, twisted her blade, and the creature collapsed into mulch.

    "One down!"

    Her victory was short-lived as the second creature caught her wing with a whip-like appendage, yanking her backward. Grace yelped as she was dragged off her feet, crashing into the damp tunnel floor.

    "Pay attention!" Diana shouted, already having dispatched one of her targets.

    "I’m trying!" Grace rolled to avoid a stomping root-foot, then sprang back up.

    She slashed at the restraint on her wing, severing it cleanly. The creature recoiled, giving Grace just enough time to thrust her rapier into its core. Another one down.

    The third creature was smarter, keeping its distance and lashing out with extending vines. Grace dodged one, two, three strikes, but the fourth caught her across the cheek, leaving a stinging welt.

    "Ouch! That was my face, you overgrown weed!"

    The plant-zombie didn’t seem particularly moved by her complaint.

    Grace switched tactics. Instead of trying to close distance, she feinted left, then darted right, circling behind her opponent. The creature was quick but not quick enough. Grace’s rapier found its core from behind, and it joined its companions as a pile of vegetation.

    She turned to help Diana, only to find the warrior angel standing amid the remains of both her opponents, not a hair out of place.

    "Took you long enough," Diana commented.

    "Says the person who only had to fight two of them," Grace retorted, wiping ichor from her cheek.

    Diana smirked. "Quality over quantity."

    Grace opened her mouth to respond when a notification appeared in her vision:

    「Skill Upgraded: Blade of Eternia (Lvl. 4)」

    [Huh. Nice timing.]

    "You okay?" Diana asked, noticing Grace’s momentary distraction.

    "Fine. Just thinking about what those runes might mean." Grace pointed back to the wall carvings. "Angels fighting angels over this Root. It doesn’t make sense." S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "The Dominion has a complicated history," Diana said, surprisingly serious. "There were... factions, even back before the Veil split off. Disagreements about how to handle certain threats."

    "Like the Root?"

    "Like anything powerful enough to be either a weapon or a danger." Diana sheathed her sword. "Come on. We’re wasting time."

    They continued deeper, the passage now thoroughly infested with pulsing vegetation. Roots broke through the floor in places, forcing them to climb over twisted knots of plant matter. The walls themselves seemed alive, shifting slightly when viewed from the corner of the eye.

    "How much further do you think?" Grace asked, trying not to touch any of the moving parts of their surroundings.

    "Elias said they walked for about an hour before reaching the Root chamber. We’ve been down here maybe thirty minutes?"

    "Feels longer," Grace muttered.

    The tunnel opened suddenly into a larger chamber, roughly circular and about twenty feet across. More runes covered the walls here, but larger and more elaborate. In the center of the chamber stood a stone pedestal, and on it...

    "Is that...?" Grace began.

    "A map," Diana confirmed, approaching the pedestal cautiously.

    Carved into the stone was an intricate depiction of the surrounding area—the forest, the village of Rosewood, and beneath it all, a complex network of tunnels radiating from a central chamber.

    "This is where we are," Diana pointed to a small chamber along one of the tunnel branches. "And that..." She traced a path with her finger to the central chamber. "That must be where the Root is."

    "It’s huge," Grace said, noting the scale of the central chamber compared to the others. "Way bigger than this one."

    "And these markings around it," Diana indicated a series of symbols surrounding the central chamber. "Those look like wards or barriers."

    "Protection spells?"

    "Or containment spells." Diana’s expression was grim. "I think whatever the Root is, it was deliberately sealed down here. Until something broke those seals."

    A chill ran down Grace’s spine.

    "Something... or someone."

    "Either way, we’re getting close." Diana straightened up. "One more tunnel and we should reach the main chamber."

    Grace looked at the map again, memorizing the route.

    "Do you think we should go back and get the others first?"

    Diana was already heading toward the tunnel that would lead them deeper.

    "And risk more of those plant-zombies blocking our exit? No thanks. We’ll take a quick look at the Root, then head back. In and out."

    "Why do I feel like we’re walking into a trap?" Grace muttered, hurrying after her.

    "Because we probably are," Diana replied cheerfully. "But that’s not gonna stop us."

    [Us? Since when is there an ’us’?]

    But Grace followed anyway, her rapier clutched tightly in her hand, as they descended even deeper beneath the forest, toward the ancient, corrupted heart that waited below.