Ethan stared at what he was seeing, his shock deepening instead of easing.
"Self-repairing?" he muttered, and the mont the words left his mouth, everything connected. He had noticed it earlier, how the cave did not feel like stone at all, but like the inside of sothing alive. Vines were embedded deep into the walls, pulsing in a steady rhythm. At the ti, he had brushed it off as a strange formation, sothing that rely resembled veins. Now, after watching the damage seal itself, the comparison felt far too accurate.
The image of a wounded body flashed through his mind, skin torn open, blood flowing, then stopping as the body worked to close the wound.
"Wait, what?"
The realization hit him all at once, and his eyes widened. He imdiately stretched his Soul Sense to its limit, pushing it through the cave walls, the floor, everything around him. He needed to be sure. Was he actually inside so kind of living being? He had jumped down an ancient well in Antarctica, not into a creature. Unless... the thought was so absurd it almost made him laugh. Was the Earth itself alive?
Before he could chase that idea any further, movent ca from the cave Blackie had entered. Ethan’s focus snapped back as two figures appeared at the entrance. His pupils shrank the instant he recognized one of them.
"Blackie? What happened?"
Energy surged out from Ethan in heavy waves. When Blackie had gone in, he had been dizzy, but his strength was untouched. Now he looked weak, not injured on the surface, but damaged sowhere deeper. It was the kind of weakness that ca from harm to the core itself. Even the mark on his forehead had faded. Standing beside him was an old man who looked like his complete opposite, his presence full and vigorous.
Ethan rembered that voice from earlier, ancient and worn, as if it belonged to sothing barely clinging to life. This was clearly the sa person, yet now he radiated health, while Blackie looked half broken. Anger rose fast and sharp in Ethan’s chest.
"Boss... I’m fine," Blackie said quickly. "I just need rest. I’ll recover."
Those words pulled Ethan back from the edge. The fury he had felt was close to drowning out his reason, and for a mont he had almost attacked the old man on the spot. He forced himself to breathe and hold back. The old man, for his part, simply stood there smiling, silent, his eyes fixed on Ethan with an intensity that was hard to read.
"What happened," Ethan said.
Blackie stepped away from the old man and walked toward Ethan, which told him enough to know the guy was not being controlled. Instead of explaining, Blackie held out a hand. "Got anything to eat?"
Ethan did not hesitate. He could see it clearly now, Blackie’s life force was badly drained. In cases like that, food was the fastest way to recover. He pulled supplies from his spatial storage, slabs of at and several cases of nutrient fluid from ho. Blackie took everything and started eating imdiately, without slowing down or sparing a glance.
The old man walked past Ethan and stopped near the Coreborn duplicate lying on the ground. He looked down at the broken figure and laughed. "Looks like you two got along quite well," he said, his laughter echoing through the cave.
Ethan still had not attacked him, but the hostility had not faded. Whatever had happened to Blackie, this old man was clearly involved. The laughter stopped, and the old man stepped closer to the figure on the ground, bending until their faces were nearly touching.
"Kid, rember when I told you your plan would never work?" he said calmly. "You spent more than twenty years getting stronger, and yes, you succeeded. But it was all raw power, no refinent, no skill. You’re fragile aeb when pushed the wrong way, you break. Still, you might not be completely out of options."
He straightened up, and the duplicate’s empty eyes suddenly regained focus. The blank stare vanished.
"How?"
Both Ethan and the duplicate spoke at the sa ti, though the difference was clear. The duplicate’s voice carried hope. Ethan’s was cautious, edged with warning. Every instinct he had told him this old man was dangerous, not because of overwhelming power, but because of how deeply tied he was to this place.
As the old man moved, Ethan noticed what lay behind him. Thick vines were embedded directly into his back, disappearing into his spine. When he walked, they dragged along, still rooted deep within the cave. This man was connected to the cave itself, either as its master or its prisoner. If he was the master, then he likely controlled everything here, including the gravity that pressed down with crushing force.
Ethan had tested it earlier. Under this gravity, jumping back up to the entrance far above was nearly impossible. And after checking the surroundings, it was clear that the hole they had fallen through was the only way in or out. So when the old man said the duplicate had a chance to leave, Ethan tensed again, ready to move if this turned into an attack.
The old man sensed the shift imdiately. He turned and t Ethan’s gaze, then surprised him by bowing slightly. "Young Master of the Underworld, there’s no need for such hostility. The solution I’m offering works for both of you. He wants to leave," he said, gesturing toward the duplicate, who was now sitting up. "And you need power, power enough to face what’s coming in the Desolate Domain."
"Young Master of the Underworld?" Ethan repeated silently. It was the first ti he had heard the title. Then understanding settled in. When his mother had co here, when she sealed his Core, she must have dealt with this old man. At that ti, she had only been an avatar of the Lord of the Underworld, but that was enough. This man clearly knew exactly who she was.
Considering that, and the fact that Blackie, while injured, was not dying, Ethan slowly let go of the killing intent he had been holding back. He relaxed his stance and gave a small nod. "Go on, elder. I’m listening."
The old man chuckled. "The real one really is different from the fake. The difference is obvious." He glanced at the duplicate and snorted. "See that? Manners. This kid lived with for more than ten years and called ’old bastard’ every single day. If I hadn’t watched him grow up, I would have reduced him back to raw energy a long ti ago."
His beard bristled as he spoke, making it clear just how much patience had been tested over the years.
"Old bastard, stop rambling and just tell us the plan," the duplicate said flatly.
"You—" The old man’s face twitched at hearing the insult again. Ethan could not help the slight curl at the corner of his mouth. He had used those sa words often enough himself.
The old man huffed. "Terrible attitude. Fine. He knows Trifurcate Spirit. If you don’t want to lose your consciousness, let him refine you into an avatar. That way, you can leave this place. And when the main body needs you, you rge back."
He stopped there, still clearly annoyed, but his eyes held a sharp, amused glint, as if he was already looking forward to what would happen next.
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