With nothing to hold on to, Clayton kept falling, spiraling into panic and confusion.
After a while, he began to calm down slightly—just enough to start analyzing his current situation.
He glanced left and right, but all he could see were flashes of rock rushing past the vertical corridor walls. With nothing useful in sight, Clayton tilted his head back to look upward.
His perspective instantly shifted, becoming strangely distorted. It felt as if he had already left so faraway place behind.
Then he looked down—and to his horror—saw a pitch-black abyss that seed endless. It was terrifying, like so unknown, vicious monster was waiting for him below.
Whether it was psychological or not, the longer he remained in that place, the colder and more desolate it felt. He panicked for a mont but soon regained his composure and began searching for a solution.
Unfortunately, no brilliant idea ca to mind.
In the end, Clayton chose the simplest option: covering himself in water as a protective shield in case anything happened.
Once he made up his mind, he acted quickly. He knew that even a small delay could have serious consequences.
Light began to gather around his body, and in an instant, droplets of water condensed into a transparent do of dark blue liquid.
As his body mass increased due to the water do, he noticed that his falling speed was actually accelerating. That was the last thing Clayton wanted—he knew very well that the faster a body moved, the greater its kinetic energy.
Swiftly, he manipulated the shape of the water do so that it expanded outward and touched the walls of the shaft. What had once been a spherical do morphed into a cylindrical shape, pressing gently against the vertical tunnel.
Everything seed to be working according to plan. He thickened the outer layer of the do, making it denser and more viscous. Slowly but surely, he began to feel his descent decelerate.
A small smile crept onto his face. His efforts weren’t in vain.
With focused concentration and careful control, he maintained the stability of the water do, ensuring no errors were made. He understood the dangers of sudden acceleration or deceleration. Stability was everything.
Through continuous manipulation, Clayton managed to slow his descent to the point where he was now clinging to the tunnel wall.
He let out a relieved sigh and opened a small air gap at the top of the do to breathe.
After resting briefly, he decided to resu his descent—slowly this ti—so he could better assess his surroundings. After all, it made more sense to go down rather than attempt to climb back up. The energy cost was too great, especially since maintaining the water do continuously drained his mana.
With steady control, he resud his fall at a gentle, controlled speed.
Everything seed to be going smoothly—until suddenly, a hysterical scream echoed through the corridor.
Clayton quickly looked up—and saw soone falling straight toward him.
Panicking, he reshaped his water do into a ring so he wouldn’t be caught in the center. He positioned himself near the edge.
The person falling above was clearly too terrified to notice Clayton below. They only realized he was there as they passed by.
For a brief mont, the person froze in confusion, reaching out toward Clayton as if to grab him—but of course, it was impossible. They continued falling.
Monts later, another terrified scream pierced the air.
"Arghhhhhh!"
Clayton could only watch in silence, pitying the poor soul as they plunged downward. They looked utterly helpless.
Before he could revert the do to its original shape, sothing shot toward him—a glowing yellow serpent. Reflexively, Clayton tried to dodge, but he froze when he realized what it actually was:
A magic-based lightning attack.
Even if he dodged, the electricity would still travel through the surrounding water and hit him.
Cursing silently, he regretted feeling sorry for the person earlier.
Frantically, he tried to think of a counterasure—then rembered sothing.
He began chanting a spell, though nothing happened right away. Quickly, he shifted to the side.
Bzttttt!
The lightning serpent struck the spot he had just vacated, scorching and vaporizing the viscous water do.
The blast was so powerful it carved a basin-sized dent into the tunnel wall.
Then, the electric serpent disappeared, and everything fell silent once more.
Clayton let out a long breath. His solution had worked.
He had rembered that pure water is an electrical insulator, so as long as he remained surrounded by clean water, the current wouldn’t reach him—even if the water itself was struck.
Still, even though he was safe, Clayton continued cursing whoever had launched the attack. He sincerely hoped that person would die a miserable death.
Now that things had stabilized again, he resud his descent—this ti more cautiously than ever.
He feared that more people might fall from above—or worse, that enemies might be waiting below.
Fortunately, after a while, he safely reached solid ground.
Just as he was beginning to think the area seed both safe and dangerous—a potential landing zone—he suddenly heard rustling noises nearby.
Turning his head, he spotted several mutilated corpses lying about.
Clayton’s stomach turned. He nearly vomited from sheer disgust.
Imdiately, he summoned his mini skeletons to stand guard, while he himself fell ill—retching, even shedding tears as nausea overwheld him.
Eventually, after what felt like ages, he began to recover.
Now more composed, Clayton scanned the area.
Corpses were scattered everywhere in various conditions—so intact, others mangled; so fresh, others dry and rotten.
From their torn clothes and battered bodies, Clayton deduced that a few had survived for a while—and had even looted the dead.
He nodded thoughtfully and approached—not to scavenge, but to better understand the situation.
He then pulled out several 48 spell scrolls.
When he activated them, his mind was imdiately flooded with mories—snippets from the final two days of several individuals’ lives.
His head throbbed from the rush of information.
From the mories, he learned that this vertical tunnel wasn’t static. It could shift and change shape in unpredictable ways. That explained why the corpses hadn’t piled up in one place.
Clayton also felt the intense pain and despair of the victims—so of whom had fought to survive until the end, but still weren’t lucky.
So were left crippled. Others had shattered limbs. Each mory was a fragnt of tragedy.
It was almost too much for Clayton to bear. The suffering was enough to make him lose his mind.
As his thoughts spiraled, another electric sound cracked through the air, followed by a blinding yellow light.
Bztttttt...
Another electric serpent—stronger than the last—raced toward him.
Just before impact, one of his mini skeletons shoved him out of the way, while others stepped forward to shield him.
Clayton was safe.
He snapped out of his daze and turned toward the source of the attack—spotting a familiar figure.
A man in his twenties leaned weakly against the wall, bleeding heavily, half-buried in a pile of corpses.
Clayton had completely overlooked him before.
Seeing his condition, Clayton shook his head. The man was clearly in bad shape—yet still had the nerve to launch such a cowardly attack.
Not everyone deserved pity.
Clayton steeled himself, determined to kill the man before he beca a future threat.
He began walking toward him, mini skeletons in tow.
But halfway there, three portals suddenly opened above—right between Clayton and the wounded man.
Clayton instantly went on high alert.
Three figures dropped from the rifts.
The first used wind magic to land safely, a small tornado swirling around their feet.
The second had no such luck. With no ans to slow their fall, their body hit the ground and shattered.
Clayton saw it all—and once again, he felt the nausea return.
Temporarily overwheld, he ordered his skeletons to guard the area while he tried to regain his composure.
The third figure landed gracefully—riding a flying broomstick.
Clayton blinked in surprise. "Why didn’t I think of that?" he muttered to himself.
But the thought passed quickly—there was no point in dwelling on it now.
Forcing himself to ignore the sickness, he turned his attention back to the people around him.
What had started as a standoff between two factions had now grown to four.
The atmosphere turned heavy—cold and tense.
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