CHAPTER 330: THE SURFACE AND THE UNDERGROUND CITY

Isiah stood over Khaz, his gaze unwavering as he watched his defeated opponent struggle with the excruciating pain.

Khaz, his once-confident demeanor shattered along with his bones, clenched his teeth to stifle his cries of agony.

"You made your mind, finally," Isiah remarked, his voice tinged with a mix of irritation and curiosity.

He crouched down, bringing himself closer to the man who had been a formidable adversary just moments ago.

"I wonder why you always act so stupidly," Isiah continued, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "You better learn to measure others’ energies before engaging in a fight with them. If I was not needing information, you would have been long dead."

Khaz, wrapped in a self-imposed fetal position, nodded weakly in response. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he fought to contain the waves of pain coursing through his body.

Each breath he took seemed like a Herculean effort, and the realization of the grave error he had committed weighed heavily on him.

"Just dont kill me, " Khaz pleaded, then he looked at Isiah with pain in his eyes .

Khaz’s desperate plea hung in the air, and Isiah couldn’t help but see the fear and pain in the man’s eyes.

It was clear that Khaz was on the brink of revealing more, and Isiah was determined to extract every ounce of information that could help them navigate the enigmatic Triavert.

"I won’t kill you if you cooperate," Isiah assured him, his tone still firm but less menacing than before.

He understood that Khaz’s desperation was driving him to speak, and Isiah intended to use that to their advantage.

Khaz continued, his words a mixture of pain and urgency. "

I’m not a protector, just someone designated to watch over the surface city, for this day ," he confessed, his voice quivering with discomfort.

Isiah’s analytical mind immediately latched onto the revelation.

"A surface city," he mused quietly, his thoughts racing. "So, we live underground, and the surface city is merely a facade."

Khaz nodded, affirming Isiah’s understanding. Sweat beads formed on his forehead, his expressions contorted by the persistent pain he was enduring.

Each word he spoke seemed to be both a relief and a burden, as if he had carried the city’s secrets for too long.

Isiah observed Khaz closely, sensing that there was more to the story. "Tell me everything about this surface city," he demanded, his curiosity piqued. "What’s its purpose, and how does it conceal the true city underground?"

Khaz took a deep breath, his body still wracked with pain.

"The surface city serves as a decoy," he explained. "It’s meant to deter the government’s attention. Most of the buildings up there are empty, and only a handful of us maintain the illusion of normalcy."

As Khaz spoke, Isiah envisioned the facade above, a ghost town meant to deceive anyone who ventured into Triavert. It was a clever strategy, but it raised more questions about what lay hidden beneath the earth.

"And the true city, underground?" Isiah pressed, urging Khaz to divulge further.

Khaz hesitated, his eyes darting around nervously as if he expected someone to appear at any moment.

"It’s a labyrinth," he said finally. "A place for those who refuse to conform to the government’s rules. We live in the shadows, away from their surveillance. But it’s dangerous down there too, with factions vying for power."

Isiah absorbed the information, his mind racing with possibilities. Triavert was more complex and treacherous than he had initially thought. It wasn’t merely a sanctuary but a clandestine world with its own dynamics and perils.

Isiah continued to pace around Khaz, his mind a whirlwind of questions and curiosity.

"What is it that makes this place special?" Isiah pressed, his voice unwavering. "Why can’t the government come here, and why did you inquire about my criminal status?"

Khaz, still clutching his injured arm, struggled to articulate his response. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he tried to speak.

"This place... it’s a dumpster," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Isiah furrowed his brow, trying to decipher Khaz’s cryptic words. He sensed that there was more to the story, but before he could coax further details from Khaz, he noticed the man’s condition deteriorating rapidly.

It was clear that the spell had taken a toll on him, pushing him to the brink of consciousness.

Isiah couldn’t afford to let Khaz slip away, not when he held crucial information about Triavert.

With a decisive motion, Isiah lifted the injured man onto his back. Khaz’s weight was an additional burden, but Isiah was determined to carry him back to Lexie and the rest of the group.

The journey back was surprisingly tranquil. The dense atmosphere of Triavert, once shrouded in mystery and intrigue, now felt more comprehensible to Isiah.

However, a gnawing regret lingered within him. He had used his formidable dark energy with a heavy hand when questioning Khaz, underestimating the toll it would take on the man.

Isiah knew that he lacked the ability to heal Khaz’s injuries without risking his life with the dark energy he commanded.

As Isiah approached the spot where he had left Lexie and the group, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of urgency.

The fate of their quest for safety and freedom in Triavert hinged on Khaz’s revelations, and Isiah was determined to uncover every secret hidden in this labyrinthine city.

As Isiah approached their group, Eijar’s curiosity got the best of her. She slithered towards him with remarkable speed, her massive form moving fluidly.

Her eyes, a striking contrast to her dark scales, held a spark of inquisitiveness as she questioned her master.

"Master, who is this, and why are you carrying him on your back?" Eijar inquired, her words laced with concern and a touch of bewilderment.

Isiah, however, remained silent, his actions speaking louder than words. He gently placed the injured man at Lexie’s feet, a clear indication of what he expected.

Isiah’s command was simple and direct: "Heal him."

Lexie, on the other hand, was caught off guard. Her fragile state was evident; she appeared weak, with her injured hand showing no signs of immediate recovery.

She looked at the unconscious man lying before her, fear reflecting in her eyes. She knew that she was no expert in healing, and Isiah was well aware of her limitations.

"I am no expert in healing, Isiah," Lexie protested, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

She felt the weight of his expectations bearing down on her, but the truth was, she had never possessed the skill or knowledge to mend wounds or cure injuries.

Isiah’s demand was both surprising and challenging, pushing Lexie to confront her inadequacies.

In this moment of vulnerability, surrounded by the mysteries of Triavert, they all had to rely on their strengths and overcome their weaknesses.

Lexie knew that her abilities, though limited, were a part of their group’s survival.

Isiah grumbled, "I know... just give me a few minutes to talk to him, then I wouldn’t care even if he dies right after."

Eijar, always fiercely protective of Ciel, sensed the tension and the potential for conflict.

She carefully maneuvered the boy away from the scene, unwilling to expose him to the turmoil that surrounded them.

Their relationship with Isiah was already complex and fragile, and Eijar didn’t want to risk making it worse.

Left alone with the unconscious man, Lexie knelt beside him, her trembling hands reaching out to assess his injuries.

She gingerly touched his face, then moved on to his chest and arms, her divine energy flowing into the wounded areas. She knew that Isiah’s actions had inflicted significant harm, but the extent of the damage remained a mystery.

Time passed slowly as Lexie worked tirelessly, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

She was pouring every ounce of her limited divine energy into the stranger, trying to mend what she could and alleviate his suffering.

The task was physically and emotionally draining, and Lexie couldn’t help but wonder if her efforts were in vain.

Isiah, meanwhile, had distanced himself from the scene, leaving Lexie to grapple with the consequences of his actions.

He didn’t check on her progress, nor did he offer any words of encouragement or gratitude.

Lexie felt the weight of his expectations, the pressure to prove herself in the midst of this unfamiliar and challenging situation.

As Lexie continued her healing attempts, her exhaustion became more pronounced. She had pushed herself to the limit, and her energy reserves were running dangerously low.

The stranger’s fate hung in the balance, and Lexie could only hope that her efforts had been enough to save him, even if Isiah’s motivations remained a mystery to her.

After a while, the man began to regain consciousness, and with awareness came the return of his excruciating pain.

Lexie had attempted several basic spells to alleviate his suffering, but her limited knowledge of healing magic hindered her efforts. The pain remained, persisting like a relentless shadow.