Chapter 500: 500. It’s 500
Author here: Happy 500th Chapter!
New Volume Cover features: Yumina.
That’s all— let’s dive straight into the Chapter.
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"If we kill them, then the poison mark will multiply, and we’ll just have more trouble later," Myrtle said firmly, folding her arms.
"Fine. Let’s just store them in the pocket dimension," Tyler replied. He uncorked a small vial, releasing a faintly glowing smoke. The gas spread quickly, seeping into the lungs of the unconscious enemies. Within seconds, their breathing slowed, ensuring they would remain out cold for hours.
Tyler reached for the pocket dimension orb to place them inside—but suddenly froze.
His dragon-like pupils shrank. He didn’t explain; instead, he grabbed Lanny by the wrist. "Run!"
The urgency in his voice was enough. None of the girls questioned him. They darted out of the narrow passage in an instant, their footsteps echoing against the stone.
A deep rumble shook the cavern. Then the wall behind them cracked apart.
A monstrous creature, the size of two grown men laid side by side, burst through the stone. Its grotesque body was segmented, its flesh glistening like wet armor. The worm didn’t even notice the group—it simply drilled forward, its maw grinding rock to dust. Then it vanished into another wall.
The tunnel behind them collapsed in its wake, leaving a choking cloud of dust and rubble.
Everyone stared at the wreckage in shock.
Mana was the first to speak, her tone hushed. "What... was that?"
Tyler exhaled slowly. "It looked like a worm."
"That’s not just a worm," Myrtle muttered. "That thing was huge. As big as some of the caverns we’ve walked through." Her eyes widened, and her voice trailed off.
Tyler noticed. "What is it?"
"Now I get it," Myrtle whispered. "This whole labyrinth... these caves weren’t dug just by people. They were also carved out by creatures like that."
A brief silence followed her words. Even Tyler could only nod grimly. Even Tyler is not sure if he can win against something like that.
They moved deeper until they found a spot where the air felt stable. The girls rested while Tyler sat beside Zuzia, his eyes glowing faintly. His divine sense swept over her body like invisible threads of light.
"What are you doing?" Myrtle asked, irritation sharpening her voice.
"Trying to locate the poison mark," Tyler said without lifting his focus.
Myrtle’s gaze narrowed. "Then why are your hands on her chest?"
"Stop distracting me," he replied flatly, not even looking at her.
Zuzia leaned back lazily, as though his hands were nothing, while Myrtle’s temper boiled. "Let me at him! I’ll bash his skull in!"
Lanny and Mana quickly held her back, though their expressions carried amusement rather than outrage.
Moments later, Tyler opened his eyes, his brows furrowed. "It’s difficult to remove."
"See?" Myrtle snapped, struggling against the girls holding her. "He said it’s difficult to remove his hands. "
"My, my, calm down," Lanny said with a teasing smile.
Tyler ignored the protests. "I meant The mark... It’s difficult to remove the mark. It resists even divine sense."
Mana’s expression sobered. "Just as I said earlier, only their leader can remove it. They don’t use any common method."
"What troubles me most," Tyler continued, "is that even the divine sense of a Loose Immortal couldn’t erase it."
The group fell into uneasy silence.
Lanny blinked. "Wait... does that mean the one who placed this mark... was an Immortal?"
Myrtle nodded grimly. "Yes. Only someone at that level could forge a seal this resilient."
Tyler stood abruptly, brushing off his hands. "Forget it. I don’t need Melty Ashes that badly. We’re returning to town and wait for this island to reach Vaporspire."
Lanny tilted her head, grinning mischievously. "What’s this? The great Tyler White backing down? You’re the one who bragged about stomping an Immortal, weren’t you?"
"That Immortal was already weakened by curses," Tyler said flatly, "and then struck by lightning thanks to something called Cultivation CC. It’s complicated."
Before Lanny could press further, Tyler’s expression changed. His eyes widened.
The pocket dimension orb in his pocket glowed. And then —five bodies spilled out of it, hitting the ground with dull thuds.
The deep valley poison sect members they had captured.
"Impossible," Tyler muttered. His pocket dimension was under his complete control. Nothing could enter or leave without his will. Yet here they were.
Weapons were drawn instantly, but the group froze when they saw the captives’ condition.
Each of the five now bore long, jagged numbers across their foreheads. The digits glowed in neon blue, burning faintly against their skin. Their eyes blazed with the same unnatural light, and even the insides of their mouths pulsed with eerie blue radiance.
One of the Dragonions stepped forward, his jaw opening unnaturally wide. A voice, distorted and hollow, spilled out.
"Follow me..."
Then, as if pulled by invisible strings, the five turned in unison and began marching deeper into the catacombs. Their movements were stiff, mechanical, like marionettes controlled by some unseen puppeteer.
Tyler’s group hesitated, glancing at each other.
"Are we seriously just going to follow zombies?" Myrtle whispered, her grip tightening on her weapon.
"We don’t have to—" Tyler began, but then the air changed.
A crushing pressure swept over them. It wasn’t physical, but spiritual, like the weight of a mountain pressing down on their souls. Their knees weakened under it, hearts racing with primal fear.
The message was clear: follow, or be crushed.
Tyler clenched his jaw. Even he had to exert effort to stay upright under that suffocating aura. Slowly, he nodded. "We don’t have a choice."
The girls exchanged uneasy glances but fell into step behind him.
The five glowing figures moved ahead steadily, leading them deeper into the island’s bones. The caves grew darker, the air thicker, as though they were descending into something far older and more dangerous than they could yet imagine.
---
"I-I’m scared... maybe it’s a ghost," Mana muttered, hugging her arms as though the shadows themselves were creeping toward her.
Lanny rolled her eyes and shot her a look. "You are the ghost here."
Mana pouted but leaned closer. "This place used to be a graveyard, you know. before hundred thousand years ago, Catacombs Island was where they buried bodies. The dead must still be lingering. Probably watching us right now..." Her voice dropped to a shiver.
The others ignored her dramatics, but the silence of the cavern made her words cling like cobwebs.
Ahead of them, the five zombie-like Deep Valley Poison Sect members suddenly leapt into a gaping pit.
Tyler and the girls froze. Then, with a shared glance, they followed. Zuzia scooped Lanny up in her arms before dropping down.
They slowed their descent, landing softly at the bottom. But when they looked back, they realized something disturbing—the five puppet-like men had slammed straight into the ground, shattering stone beneath them, as if the concept of self-preservation no longer applied. They didn’t even try to fly.
"Come in..."
The voice echoed, deep and hollow, vibrating through their bones. It wasn’t shouted; it simply existed, slipping into their ears whether they wanted it or not.
Tyler walked forward first. The girls trailed behind him, reluctant but bound by the same pressure that had forced them this far.
The air grew hotter the deeper they went, stifling and heavy. Soon, they stepped into a space so massive it seemed impossible that it could fit beneath Catacombs Island. The chamber stretched farther than sight, as though it were larger than the island itself.
Rows of graveyards lined the cavern. Some graves had been dug up, their contents missing. Sect members and mercenaries worked busily, hauling bones both ancient and fresh corpses alike. The stench of blood and rot mixed with the sulfur in the air.
The workers carried their grim cargo to a wide lava stream that flowed endlessly across the chamber. The molten river had no visible source, yet it ran as though it had been burning since time immemorial. Corpses and bones were tossed into the lava, which devoured them instantly.
At the far end, the lava stopped abruptly. The fire died into nothingness, but what poured out instead were gray ashes, piling neatly like a river turned into sand.
"Melty Ashes?" Tyler muttered under his breath.
Myrtle frowned. "So... just burning corpses creates it? That doesn’t make sense."
"Probably not," Tyler replied. His eyes narrowed. "It must be the lava itself. And maybe the bones they’re adding... ancient bones, filled with remnants of power."
The group kept moving, unease gnawing at them.
Eventually, they reached a solitary cave, its entrance guarded by two lizard-elves with scaled skin and narrow, slit-pupiled eyes. Strangely, the guards didn’t question them at all. They simply stepped aside, as if expecting their arrival.
Inside, the atmosphere thickened to suffocating silence.
At the heart of the cave sat a figure draped in a dark cloak, motionless upon a stone throne. The shadows around it refused to part, swallowing any detail. No face, no hands—only darkness.
And then they saw it.
Numbers burned across the figure’s hood in neon blue light, searing against the gloom. Unlike the long, shifting digits carved into the zombie-like sect members, this one was simple. Direct.
500.