“Your Highness, if you could please go over there…”
Ian pointed toward a section of twisted woods that was relatively sparse but filled with many branches.
“Go there and gather as many sturdy branches as you can—about as thick as an arm. They should be taller than a person, and I’ll need at least a dozen. Also, collect some flexible vines or tree bark fibers for binding.”
“Understood.”
Amivy didn’t hesitate.
She headed toward the woods with her wooden staff in hand, her movements clean and efficient.
Ian stayed behind and began clearing the rubble and debris from the shallow pit.
Using a sharp stone shard as a crude tool, he used his hands and feet to dig the pit about half a meter deeper, expanding it until there was enough room for two people to sit or lie side by side.
He then lined the bottom with a layer of dry moss and dead leaves to act as insulation against the moisture.
Before long, Amivy returned, dragging a large pile of suitable branches and several bundles of dark brown vines that looked quite resilient.
She was highly efficient.
Fine beads of sweat had formed on her forehead, but her eyes were bright, and she didn’t offer a single word of complaint.
Next came the construction.
Ian directed while Amivy provided the labor.
They propped the longer branches against the rock wall, slanting the other ends into the soil in front of the pit to create a basic triangular frame.
They then used shorter branches to lash everything together horizontally, weaving the skeleton of the roof and side walls.
Amivy was an incredibly fast learner.
After Ian demonstrated once, she quickly mastered the technique of tying knots with the vines, eventually making them even more secure than his own.
Finally, they gathered a large quantity of broad leaves and soft shrub branches, layering them over the frame to fill in the gaps.
A simple but effective A-frame shelter—one that offered protection from the wind and rain while remaining well-hidden—slowly took shape.
As a final psychological comfort, Ian hung the remaining branches and thorny shrubs across the rock wall at the entrance.
By now, the brightness of the ‘sun’ had faded further.
The sky was stained with brilliant shades of gold, crimson, and violet.
It was breathtakingly beautiful, yet it served as a grim reminder that night was approaching.
The two stood before their completed shelter.
Looking at the ‘home’ they had built with their own hands, a strange sense of achievement rose within them, momentarily dulling their fear of the unknown night ahead.
***
While Ian and Amivy were finishing their shelter on the 99th Floor of the Dungeon…
At the entrance of the Dungeon…
On the surface, within the adventurer camp surrounding the Abyss Corridor, the atmosphere was entirely different.
It was thick with tension and a chilling solemnity.
Inside the main command tent, the Stargazer, Marguerite, sat in the primary seat.
The usual laziness and playfulness were gone from her face, replaced by a cold, hard seriousness.
Standing before her were several high-ranking generals of the Imperial Royal Guard, as well as Otillia Filimon and Shirleyviel Connalt, who had successfully returned to the camp.
The two young women had changed into clean clothes, but their pale faces, bloodshot eyes, and the unhealed scrapes on their skin all bore witness to the danger they had recently escaped.
Otillia pressed her lips thin, her icy blue eyes masking a deep well of anxiety and restlessness.
Shirleyviel kept her head slightly bowed, her silver hair somewhat disheveled.
“…In summary, while exploring an anomalous ruin on Level 45, Imperial Prince Arthur and Master Kevin Caerslana were attacked by an unknown, powerful illusion-type Demonic Creature. The dispelling of the illusion triggered a massive cave-in. His Highness and Lord Caerslana unfortunately fell into an abyssal rift. Their current status is unknown. The metal door that triggered the incident was completely sealed by the collapse and cannot be opened.”
As the representative from the Imperial Royal Magic Academy finished the report, silence filled the tent.
A moment later, Marguerite stopped tapping the armrest of her chair.
She slowly looked up, her gaze sweeping over the generals.
“So,” Marguerite’s voice was calm and flat, yet it sent a shiver through everyone present.
“My student and an Imperial Prince fell into a previously unrecorded rift of unknown depth within the Abyss Corridor, right under your noses, during an official mission registered with the Imperial Royal Magic Academy—and you’re telling me you can’t even open the door?”
One of the officials from the Academy braced himself and stepped forward.
“Lady Marguerite, please calm your anger! We have already mobilized our best earth and spatial mages, along with high-powered demolition magic tools. We are currently attempting to open the door and stabilize the path…”
“But… the runes on that door are ancient and incredibly resilient. They seem to have formed an integrated defense with the surrounding rock strata, so progress is slow. The structure of the collapsed area is extremely unstable; a forced large-scale excavation could trigger a secondary collapse…”
“Hmph! For the sake of a few old friends, I won’t make things difficult for you.”
Marguerite snorted coldly, withdrawing the suffocating pressure of a 6th Tier Legend.
The people below finally breathed a sigh of relief, as if a mountain had been lifted off their chests.
“Since conventional methods are too slow, we will use unconventional ones. I’m going down personally.” Her gaze turned toward Otillia and Shirleyviel. “You two girls, come with me.”
“Yes! Lady Marguerite!”
Otillia and Shirleyviel replied without a moment’s hesitation.
“Excellency, according to His Majesty’s orders, please allow us to dispatch elite guards to accompany you!”
“Fine!”
The orders were quickly relayed, and the entire camp began to move like a high-speed, precision machine.
One hour later, on Level 45, they stood before the collapsed area that had been partially cleared and reinforced.
Marguerite had changed into a dark purple, form-fitting magic robe suitable for action.
Behind her stood eight elite Imperial Royal Guards with heavy auras, all of whom were at least 5th Tier Chief Archmages.
Otillia and Shirleyviel, now in light trekking gear, stood at Marguerite’s side.
Before them was the dark silver metal door, its runes dim and the entrance shut tight once more.
The rubble in front of the door had been cleared, but the door itself remained immovable.
Marguerite stepped forward, extending her slender fingers to gently brush against the runes.
Her eyes shimmered with the light of the stars as she decoded the secrets behind these ancient symbols.
Everyone had their specialties.
As the Master of the Tower of Star-Gazing, Marguerite’s greatest strength lay in the study of various ancient scripts and symbols.
After a short while, Marguerite translated the meaning of the runes:
“Beyond this door lies the world outside. Only one who can awaken the Holy Sword Excalibur may open it…”
Her voice wasn’t loud, yet it echoed clearly in everyone’s ears.
Upon hearing Marguerite’s interpretation, everyone present looked confused.
“Lady Marguerite, what does ‘beyond the world’ mean…?”
One of the guards asked, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
“It means exactly what it says.”
Marguerite withdrew her hand.
The starlight in her eyes faded, replaced by an endless gravity.
“Ian and the others probably aren’t in this world anymore…”
Marguerite’s words were a lightning strike, dealing a staggering blow to everyone present.