Translator: Pai_
That afternoon, Turan began digging a tunnel from a warehouse located about five hundred ters away from the Red Fortress.
Judging by the dust settled on the goods, it seed the owner hadn’t visited in quite so ti. Unless he was truly unlucky, there was little risk of being discovered.
Turan made a hole in the corner of the warehouse and entered the ground, digging out soil and attaching it to the rear to create small air pockets as he moved forward.
With this thod, it was possible to move underground without dumping large amounts of earth at the starting point.
A bit troubleso, but effective.
As he moved leisurely through the ground, Turan suddenly clicked his tongue at a passing thought.
“It really is a sha.”
Compared to the days when he could use the Earthmover Bloodline’s power through the Mimic Sacred Relic, the scale and efficiency of his abilities were significantly inferior now.
Back then, he could instantly dive into the ground and spring up in front of isa for a surprise attack.
Of course, even so, there was no reason to trade any of the five bloodlines he currently possessed for the Earthmover one.
Varaha's Light and Fire, Ruvan's physical combat, Nagin's specialization in soul magic, Lavitas for healing and purification, and Carmine for water and frost.
None of the powers of these five great houses were worth giving up for a single Earthmover ability.
Even while lost in thought, Turan skillfully used terrain-altering magic to bore through the sturdy mountain.
The mountain supporting the fortress was composed of hard granite, which normal people wouldn’t even dream of digging through, but when Turan touched it, it crumbled like sand, opening a path.
An hour later, as he spiraled upward, Turan’s hand finally touched a dark red brick.
“I’ve finally arrived...”
Would he really be able to penetrate this fortress wall as he had imagined?
Half-doubting, Turan switched his sacred relic to the Carmine bloodline and opened the crystal vial he had in his pouch.
When the Water of Death, controlled by fluid manipulation magic, stuck to the ceiling, a searing hiss echoed as it burned.
“Ah.”
The first thing he realized was that lting sothing with the Water of Death produced an enormous amount of smoke.
Above ground, that wouldn’t be a problem, but underground in an enclosed space, the smoke naturally rose right into his face.
Turan quickly activated wind magic to funnel the rising smoke out through the small tunnel behind him.
'I'll have to hold my breath for a while.'
After about ten minutes, the lower portion of the Red Fortress caved in as if scooped with a spoon.
Amazingly, the Water of Death had succeeded in lting through even a sacred relic forged in ancient tis!
Of course, that was only possible because the Red Fortress used parts of biological origin in its construction.
'The Temple of the Sun actually couldn't be pierced with this.'
Turan still vividly rembered Solif’s horrified face when he had tested it out of curiosity.
Although Solif disliked Varaha's formalities, the building itself was practically like a second ho to him.
Another ten minutes passed.
Just as the Water of Death was nearly exhausted, a hole large enough for one person to pass through finally ford.
Turan jumped up lightly and peeked down below.
'If nothing special happens, I mustn’t forget to ventilate this place before leaving...'
Even without knowing the exact effects, it was clear that the smoke produced from burning flesh & bones with the Water of Death wasn’t good for the body.
He had to be careful, or soone who entered the warehouse later might end up dead.
Etching that small but important task in his mind, Turan first checked where he had erged.
It appeared to be a relatively dark space, not a commonly trafficked area.
Judging by the cleaning tools scattered around, it was likely a basent storage room.
Coming out in a storage room after entering from one wasn’t surprising either.
After all, such junk-storage areas were usually located underground.
Just as Turan cautiously reached to open the door while staying concealed, he quickly closed it again when light poured through.
Not ordinary light, but a magical glow.
'Wow, I’d heard stories, but this is no joke.'
After composing himself for a mont, Turan dispelled his concealnt, opened the door, and peeked out.
Illuminating the long corridor were glowing orbs embedded in the ceiling, lined up one after another.
The stronghold of the House Zahar, the family of assassins, was shining more brilliantly than any place in the world.
*****
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