Chapter Eighty-Five: The Name of the Abyss

Even though there were no strange sounds in the surroundings at the moment, everyone couldn't help but glance around, as if something might emerge from some hidden corner at any time. Seeing those obvious struggle marks, everyone's expression darkened. Zhao Xu, who had been full of confidence, now began to worry; from the look of things, his teammates were starting to have second thoughts.

Compared to the Maple Leaf group, who chased wealth, and Luo Ya and his companions, who sought advancement, Zhao Xu’s pursuit on this trial journey was simply the thrill of adventure. Antinoia had given him three trump cards—not so he could crawl back to Mystra unscathed, but to hone himself. If Zhao Xu returned safely, only to report to Antinoia that he’d killed a few petty thieves and retained all three trump cards, then this trial would have amounted to little.

Thus, Zhao Xu didn’t shy away from the dangers inherent in adventure. If, that night, a primordial black dragon had appeared, he would have released his Seraph without hesitation to fight. What he wanted to avoid was being caught off guard by a trap set by others. For instance, if entering this pit turned out to be a setup for his ambush, then dying and returning to Mystra would only earn him Antinoia’s ridicule. This was a matter of careful judgment.

Evading a level-ten druid that night had been a minor achievement; using the Candle of Divine Petition to scare off a specter was another. Zhao Xu had hoped this pit might offer him yet another small win. Yet, looking at the scene before him, it seemed this pit was far from a simple opportunity.

“What do you all plan to do?” In the end, Zhao Xu wasn’t the sort to coldly watch his companions perish. If they failed to react in time, the entire group could be wiped out—and he could only ensure his own safety.

“Huh? What do you mean, plan?” The warrior Maple Leaf hadn’t caught on.

“Are we going to keep moving forward? Now that the infernal script has appeared, along with these blood-red handprints—anything related to the Abyss or Hell is never simple,” Zhao Xu said quietly.

During that years-long campaign against demonkind, even the top-tier players who entered Arthur in the first year suffered many deaths.

“Let’s go. Since we’re here already.” Maple Leaf said, and the other three—Youyou among them—nodded in agreement.

Seeing their resolve, Luo Ya breathed a sigh of relief. Having fulfilled his duty to warn his companions, Zhao Xu said no more. He realized that Maple Leaf and the others probably had extra resurrection stones, so they saw adventure as a worthwhile gamble.

Only when a player is left with a single resurrection stone will they learn that, when lacking strength, survival is Arthur’s foremost principle.

The mine had several branching tunnels. To find the hidden dungeon, Zhao Xu and his companions could only explore each path in turn, moving clockwise. After seeing the handprints, they dared not split up.

Yet, by keeping close together and forming a tight formation as they advanced, they managed to bolster each other’s courage. Luo Ya led the group through a narrow passage barely wide enough for two, emerging into a spacious hall. Aside from some collapsed cabinets in the corners, the floor was littered with gray, broken beds.

This hall was likely the miners’ dormitory. The walls had been neatly stacked after excavation, unlike the jagged stones of the earlier passage.

“Gentlemen spellcasters, do either of you know the spell to detect secret doors?” Luo Ya asked, eyeing a half-closed wooden door.

“No,” replied the bard Frog.

The bard hadn't reached level two yet, so he couldn’t use the first-level arcane spell “Detect Secret Door.” Even if he could, he wouldn't choose such a niche spell; like sorcerers, bards have only a limited selection and must choose carefully.

“Detect Secret Door” is a knowledge domain spell. Zhao Xu did know it, but he hadn’t expected to enter a dungeon that morning and had prepared “Augury” instead. To switch to “Detect Secret Door,” he would have to use his “Versatile Spellcaster” feat, expending two zero-level spells to cast it.

“Let’s check inside this room first, then search the area for secret doors,” Zhao Xu suggested to Luo Ya after some thought.

Luo Ya nodded in agreement. This wasn’t their destination yet—just the miners’ quarters, so the odds of secret rooms or traps were low.

Still, as they approached the half-shut door, everyone remained cautious. Luo Ya pressed his heavy steel shield against the doorway, ready to block any sudden assault from inside.

Maple Leaf held his greatsword, prepared to pry open the wooden door. The martial artist Gale stood with his back to the group, guarding against surprises from behind.

While Youyou mainly held the torch for illumination, Zhao Xu was fully focused, gripping his hand crossbow, trained on the room.

Without those handprints, they would have likely kicked the door open without a second thought. Now, they treated the room as potentially dangerous.

“Shall I open the door?” Maple Leaf warned the group. Seeing no objections, he gently pushed his greatsword forward.

A creak echoed. As the wooden door swung open, everyone’s heartbeat quickened.

“An altar?” Luo Ya, at the front, was first to glimpse the room. “I’ll go in—you all follow close behind.”

With that, he advanced shield-first, step by cautious step. Maple Leaf and the two rogues followed closely, especially Rainbow, who concentrated intensely on her listening skills, constantly monitoring the surroundings for any sound.

“If anything feels wrong, start singing,” Zhao Xu whispered to the bard.

At this point, the bard’s zero-level spells and archery were of little use; singing would be better, giving everyone a morale-boosting buff.

Once everyone had entered the room, Gale remained at the doorway, watching outside, while the others, illuminated by torchlight, took in the details within and were momentarily stunned.

This room, adjacent to the miners’ dormitory, wasn't large. In one corner lay a collapsed bed, and from the desk and abandoned items, it was probably the foreman’s quarters.

However, the walls, floor, and even the ceiling were covered with blood-red script, all of which pointed toward the altar, now empty of sacrifices.

“I think we should inform the nearest church and have a priest sent here,” Youyou said, her body trembling. If she hadn’t been surrounded by the group, she would have fled in terror.

“Don’t worry,” Zhao Xu crouched, holding his oil lamp to examine the infernal script on the floor. “These are probably just painted symbols.”

In his previous life, he’d teamed up with benevolent priests to hunt evil cultists; scenes like this were familiar, and he was unfazed. After all, every foe was mortal—one stab and they’d die, unlike troublesome ghosts.

“All these infernal letters are variants of the same name,” Youyou said after taking a steadying breath.

“What name?” Zhao Xu asked.

“Demogorgon.”