Tars listened to the rhythmic creaking of the bug-carriage and the occasional startled shouts of mercenaries as the settlement he had briefly called home faded into the distance.

  It didn't take long for him to realize that Young Master Rodrigo's definition of "not far" was quite liberal. He glanced at the crystal clock by his side while closing his book; the lights at the top and bottom had alternated nine times, marking nine full days of travel.

  During this time, he finally saw what a "Cavern Domain" truly entailed. It wasn't just a territory surrounding a central Cavern City; the terrain itself was remarkably vast and open. Unlike the cramped, interconnected tunnels of the kobold lands, the Cavern Domain felt like a massive, stable air bubble—or perhaps several giant bubbles joined together. The flatness of the land was almost reminiscent of the legendary surface world.

  When the call for rest finally came, Tars leaped down from the carriage. He watched the bustling mercenaries with a hint of admiration. Some were already starting fires, preparing a reckless subterranean beast encountered on the road as the main course for their next meal.

  "Master Tars, it seems wizards are truly as diligent as the rumors suggest," the handsome Rodrigo remarked, eyeing the spellbook in Tars's hand. Nearly every time they met, Tars was studying. "That is the primary difference between you and the casters who lounge about in the larger mercenary companies. Most of those I've seen do nothing but drink and indulge."

  Rodrigo showed signs of exhaustion from the days of travel, but his eyes remained bright. They slept in the woven compartments of the carriages to stay safe from the dangers lurking beneath the ground.

  The three of them sat down by a well-tended campfire. The mercenaries had been in high spirits lately; their nights had been surprisingly peaceful. Some even claimed the journey was blessed by the gods. In reality, Tars had simply found opportunities to release Squeak. As a natal familiar, the clever bug could sense its master's position and followed them through the earth. Whenever the caravan stopped, it hunted nearby, and with Tars's coordination, it even brought back snacks for Aiskin and the others in the bedroom space.

  "Young Master Rodrigo, what exactly do you hope to gain from this ruin?" Tars asked, striking up a conversation while his employer seemed talkative.

  The question was met with a long silence.

  "I want to become a wizard. That has always been my dream..." Rodrigo said, looking down before breaking into a self-deprecating laugh. "I hope you don't mock my delusions, haha."

  In Rodrigo's voice and laughter, Tars could sense a raw, genuine longing. They chatted for a while, but Tars didn't ask what the ruin looked like, and Rodrigo didn't volunteer any details.

  In the blink of an eye, another nine days passed. Finally, the caravan halted in the center of an unnaturally flat, expansive plain. This was their destination. Under orders, the mercenaries began to pitch camp, clearly preparing for a long stay. Tars studied the level ground before him.

  "Originally, this flat area was much larger. Time usually shifts the terrain, but every few decades, this place becomes perfectly level again," Rodrigo said, coming to stand beside him. "It’s fascinating—as if someone comes here every few decades just to trample it flat."

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  Tars remained silent, listening.

  "Until one time, a mercenary group traveling between domains witnessed it: the Tower. An indescribably massive tower that seemed to pierce through different Cavern Domains at an angle. After several dozen days, the tower vanished, leaving behind this vast, flattened earth. One of my ancestors happened to be with that group. He ventured inside to explore and became the first wizard apprentice in our family," Rodrigo said with a look of yearning.

  "Of course, that was ages ago. I only found out by chance in some old records. For some reason, my family acts as though they've never heard of it, so I'm just here to see for myself," the noble laughed. "If we end up just looking at the scenery, please don't laugh at me, Master Tars. Your mana stones will be paid regardless."

  Tars nodded. The two of them stood there watching the horizon, the red-haired woman standing silently behind her master. Tars looked calm, but his mind was busy with his magic. Despite the distractions of the road, he had completed the mental models for two spells: Ear-Planting was finished, and he expected to master Light by the end of this quiet night. That left only a spell called Transcription to learn.

  He suddenly found himself missing Karyu and began to understand why some wild wizards chose to focus purely on pleasure once they attained a modicum of power. He also noticed that during their chats, Rodrigo would casually use terms like "night" or "day." Once Rodrigo realized Tars could follow the conversation naturally, he stopped filtering his speech. It reminded Tars of what Old Goldtooth and Karyu had said: those living in Cavern Cities experience day and night because the nobles control the massive light sources above, mimicking the sun and moon.

  As the camp fell into a chorus of snoring after a busy day, Tars sat in his tent. The floor had been reinforced with basic protection, but he trusted his own methods more; Squeak was coiled directly beneath him, allowing him to construct his spell models in peace.

  The moment he successfully finished the model for Light, before he could even celebrate, the camp erupted in roars and screams of agony. He threw open his tent and stepped out. Squeak poked its large head out of the dirt, pressing against his calf.

  The nearly two hundred mercenaries were being jolted awake. The various temporary captains were screaming orders, trying to organize a defense.

  "Is it the ruin? Has it appeared?" Tars looked toward Rodrigo, who had just scrambled out of his own tent.

  Kanaya, the red-haired woman, had already summoned her two pink gemstones. She stood between them, subtly keeping the two men separated. Looking at Rodrigo's pale, shocked expression, Tars realized that whatever was happening, it was not what this master and servant had expected.

  Tars energized his Light model. A massive sphere of white light rose slowly into the air, illuminating the entire camp. This spell was unique; its power could be scaled—from a tiny spark on a fingertip to this massive orb fueled by Tars's full strength.

  By the brilliant light, he looked around and saw that the camp was mysteriously surrounded by people. These figures, appearing out of nowhere, had eerie expressions and clutched various weapons. Rodrigo's face had turned ashen with fear, and even the supernatural Kanaya looked grim.

  "Sins!" the newcomers began to howl. They charged toward the camp, screaming as they brandished their blades. "We are all sinners! We must atone!"

  Tars watched in growing shock. These people didn't dodge the mercenaries' swords. They cried out in pain when struck, but their faces would quickly contort into expressions of genuine, ecstatic joy. At the same time, they swung their weapons with reckless abandon, using "injury-for-injury" tactics to inflict maximum trauma and terror upon the mercenaries.

  "They are Atoners," the red-haired woman said quietly, seeing his confusion. "They believe the Abyss is a giant prison and that we are all born guilty. To kill us, or to kill themselves, is their way of seeking redemption... it is their atonement."