Inside the dim room, Tars's reptilian face was dyed a sallow yellow by the warm-toned crystals, matching the grim environment.

  "Are you... still alive?"

  Tars ventured the question only after seeing that the other's emotions had stabilized. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he had asked variations of this question several times already.

  "Naturally. Though I might as well be dead, unless you can offer me a little something fresh—delicious, vibrant life-force. That would make me feel a bit better. Just a little, like your blood. Don't be afraid; I won't harm you. You are my partner for escape, after all. If I truly hurt you, I'd rather remain in this state."

  The mummy that was once an Abyssal Language teacher spoke while twitching in place. It was clear that she had once been accustomed to using many physical gestures to emphasize her speech, much like the Big-Dumb-Humper, though in his case, it was to compensate for a lack of vocabulary.

  Tars didn't panic. Instead, he thought of Old Golden-Tooth's half-pool of "bathwater." Despite the vomit, it was undeniably genuine, high-grade dragon blood; it would be a sin to let it go to waste.

  Recovery and reuse—it was all good stock. In a place like this, under these circumstances, it might even be a life-saving medicine.

  Although his Bedroom Space was currently restricted from allowing him to escape, it still functioned perfectly as a storage container; he had already successfully retrieved and returned the half-man's face earlier.

  With this in mind, he brushed his hand over the table and selected a suitable cup. Out of the entire set of drinkware on the desk, this cup was among the smallest, yet it was undoubtedly the most beautiful.

  "My blood is far too foul. Here is something better. I hope you enjoy it—a gift for the most dedicated teacher I've ever met."

  With a flick of his wrist, Tars placed the cup on the corner of the table nearest her. By the time it touched the wood, it was brimming with the dragon blood "produced" by Old Golden-Tooth.

  Sensing the oppressive aura and the sheer, staggering vitality of the liquid, the mummy remained silent for a long time. Then, she suddenly dipped a finger into the cup. The dragon blood vanished instantly, and a crimson hue began to climb up her arm. That single small cup triggered a chain reaction; like a withered tree meeting spring, her desiccated body began to swell, and hair even started to sprout from her scalp.

  Tars suddenly felt that Old Golden-Tooth had been terribly wasteful; the elder's efficiency of absorption couldn't even begin to compare to this.

  After a long wait, a weary-looking beauty stood before him, blinking her eyes. She didn't speak immediately. Instead, she clumsily stretched her limbs, then stumbled over to pick up a withered finger from the floor. After reattaching it, she gently stroked a ring on that finger and retrieved a long red robe with gold embroidery.

  She opened her mouth, her throat trembling as she let out a raspy "Ah... ha..." While donning the gold-and-red robe, she smiled. By the time she turned around, she was finally able to speak properly with her mouth.

  "Truly delicious. What was that? Dragon blood?"

  The woman walked gracefully toward Tars, pulled out a chair, and slowly sat down.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "Standing for three hundred years is a sensation I wouldn't recommend..." She picked up the cup again, bringing it to her dainty nose for a light sniff.

  Tars noticed a slender tail behind her.

  "Can you tell me about this place?" Tars asked.

  "Tell you what?" The woman's eyes sparkled as she set the cup down. On closer inspection, her recovery was incomplete; there were still parched cracks at her temples, her nails were rough and split, and her newly grown dark red hair was sparse. If not for the tail, she would have looked remarkably human.

  "For instance, how to leave," he said.

  "I don't know. I'm not sure yet. It will require attempts."

  The woman spat out a string of words that brought no joy. Tars merely arched an eyebrow, exercising restraint to maintain a calm facade.

  "I will tell you what I know first. To begin with, this is an inverted castle, mostly underground. And the intelligent beings you see today are likely all that remain here: you, me, and that loathsome old butler, Ezel..." She gnashed her teeth, though a small piece of a tooth chipped off as she did.

  "Do you have a way to persuade the butler? Or perhaps some other means?" Tars gathered from her words that since there were only three of them, the goal and the obstacles were self-evident.

  "I suspect Old Ezel is already dead. I watched him grow more and more abnormal over time. I believe he died three hundred years ago. It is the peculiar nature of this castle and his own obsession that sustain him. As for you..." She stared at Tars. "Strictly speaking, creatures from the outside cannot discover this castle, let alone enter it. Old Ezel is like a ghost who never sleeps day or night; he is practically the incarnation of this fortress. That is exactly why I never succeeded in escaping."

  "Will he suddenly realize I'm not the 'Young Master,' and then..." Tars started.

  Thud! Thud! Thud!

  A knock at the door. Tars turned as the door slowly opened.

  "Young Master, your lesson time has concluded. Please follow me back to your room to rest." Ezel's voice drifted in from the hallway.

  The woman silently signaled him to leave quickly. He had no choice but to stand and head for the door. She seemed deathly afraid of the old butler.

  The walk back was silent. He followed the butler back to the original room, and as the door clicked shut, he finally let out a sigh of relief. A dust-filled room was far better than a tense confrontation.

  He stood by the door, scanned the room, and sat down in a corner.

  Although the half-man had implied that the location of the Abyssal Rift was out of his control and largely a matter of luck, Tars thought of the Demon Dice. This rift had essentially been triggered into existence by the power of those dice. Could his arrival here be linked to that mischievous artifact?

  The woman said the castle was controlled by the sleepless butler and that escaping was fraught with difficulty. Could he try using the Demon Dice on Ezel? After all, he didn't need a normal exit. If he could use the dice to distract or incapacitate the butler for even a moment—long enough to open his spatial door—he could vanish instantly.

  He turned the idea over in his head but couldn't reach a conclusion. To soothe his nerves, he pulled out Kalyu's diary and began to read. After a quick scan, he realized this diary was not a direct sequel to the first; there were likely two or three missing volumes in between.

  As he read, he gradually sat up straighter.

  The diary mentioned that Kalyu had not given up on becoming a "Beast-King Wizard." On one hand, the Beast-King path offered significant advantages when promoting to a full wizard; on the other hand, it was an opportunity Kalyu had missed in his youth, which had become a lingering obsession. The diary noted he had finalized his cultivation target: a small, grey-white snake. He had begun pouring years of accumulated resources into it.

  Tars read it with casual interest at first, but soon felt something was wrong. Comparing the details, this "small snake" was unmistakably the Grey-Neck Lord that had ultimately ended up in the hands of the wizard apprentice, Baont.

  In an instant, many things clicked into place.

  It seemed there would be a fine show to watch—provided he made it back alive. Usually, a bound familiar only looks like that if its master is dead; a healthy familiar wouldn't wander so far from its owner. If that was the case, was Baont trying to find some of Kalyu's valuable relics? And what was the relationship between Kalyu and the half-man? What the half-man could do was far beyond the capability of a wizard apprentice, and an apprentice certainly couldn't resist him.

  However, since the half-man possessed Kalyu's diaries, the other relics must have fallen into his hands as well.

  A "Wonder" would certainly be considered valuable, wouldn't it? Tars thought of the way he had arrived here and the Demon Dice the half-man had gifted him.