Hell Difficulty Tutorial Chapter 798 - Beneath the Inverse Pyramid

Upon entering the auction house, which I'm certain bears an ostentatious name, though to me it remains naught but a simple auction house, we are escorted down a corridor by a servant. As before, I observe arrays that partition the building into distinct zones. Each employee possesses a unique implant, granting them access solely to their designated areas and no further.

I surmise these implants also meticulously record movements within various zones for supervisory review, alongside a plethora of other sophisticated functions. Our designated contact appears to be a figure of some importance within this establishment, a position likely secured by the significant sum Tess channeled through a rather clandestine information guild to arrange this meeting.

Izzy's laughter echoes through our comms. Noodle, as always, observes with keen interest, while Biscuit indulges his pretense of sleep, even attempting a simulated snore. His wagging tail, however, betrays his ruse. Yet again.

Biscuit...

"Shall we explore sections of the auction house not typically accessible to the public?" the feylith inquires with a smile, guiding us through hallways adorned with elegant, opulent decorations. Gilded metalwork, intricately carved wooden walls, and an abundance of what appears to be precious stone adorn the surroundings.

Periodically, he pauses before artifacts displayed in glass cases, offering brief descriptions. None of the items presented are particularly crucial or practical, primarily holding historical significance that seems to escalate the deeper we venture.

Indeed, this auction house is engineered in the form of an inverted pyramid, a colossal structure that defies its apparent instability. Instead of ascending, our path leads us downward.

A central nexus, replete with numerous corridors and stairways leading upwards, where I presumed the more valuable items would be housed amidst sunlit rooms offering progressively superior vistas, is bypassed. Instead, we discover a solitary, concealed passageway. Upon the feylith's signal, the door retracts, admitting us into the subterranean levels. It is here that I begin to suspect the existence of a second pyramid, this one inverted, far smaller than its surface counterpart.

As we traverse the core of this underground structure, the ambient colors undergo a transformation. The stone shifts to a somber black, the wooden paneling darkens considerably, and the gold inlays are supplanted by polished silver. The ceiling is composed entirely of what seem to be softly luminous panels of an unknown substance, casting a gentle, eye-pleasing light that nonetheless cultivates a markedly different atmosphere.

Izzy erupts in feigned excitement in continuation of her charade, and the feylith imparts further instruction as he guides us ever deeper. Descending via stairs, as no elevators are present, we occasionally encounter other patrons. Selari, human, and lumoran individuals in noble attire mingle with feylith staff, predominantly clad in the same sharp, black suits.

And so, we find ourselves in a comfortable-looking lounge, a glass case positioned centrally, containing a wooden dagger suspended and rotating slowly within.

Thus far, events proceed precisely as planned. The man's arrogance is palpable, exploiting what he perceives as the vulnerability of Sir Elydor, a noble suffering financial distress, an illusion that Izzy and I skillfully perpetuate with our well-timed reactions.

We are perilously close to outright selling Biscuit.

Or so we thought.

All communication channels abruptly cease functioning. A low rumble resonates from somewhere outside. The central display case trembles faintly, and the ceiling lights flicker momentarily before shifting from a warm blend of orange and white to a stark blue. My Ley Lines and telepathic links vanish, leaving us isolated with our contact. Even my connection to Izzy is severed, a likely consequence of a deployed mechanism designed for such eventualities.

"Bowen, any insight into this situation?" a feylith woman's voice calls out as she hurries past the underground lounge. Her hair and eyes are a striking shade of pink.

"Adhere to protocol! The Champion-Class Interference Protocol has been activated!" our contact shouts back to her amidst her hasty passage. Several more feylith personnel scurry past in the corridors with similar urgency.

Meanwhile, Bowen begins to betray a more pronounced emotional response. The tips of his hair shift to green, which Izzy correctly identifies as his indicator for fear. The remainder of his hair displays a tension manifested as a very pale shade of brown. A darker brown signifies arrogance, and so forth. I recognize the potential advantages of mastering these nuances, but I confess my inattention when Izzy was explaining them, assuming we would retain our private channel. The current predicament, however, prohibits our discreet communication, as this feylith remains an unwilling audience.

“I apologize, Sir Elydor and Little Lady Isabella. While situations like this do not happen very often, we have procedures that I must follow. In your case, you will need to stay with me in this room for the time being. If anything worse happens, we will head deeper underground, where we have safer rooms, as I have no way of letting you back out on the surface since we’re currently under lockdown. But I can confirm that our safe rooms are better than anything else in the city.”

“Very well then,” I lean back in my chair and cross one leg over the other. I don’t even bother asking him if he has any more information. I can clearly see that all communication has been cut off, and their defensive arrays are operating at full capacity to isolate specific segments as mana spreads through the walls to power them.

The ground shakes once more, this time even more violently. I don’t take my eyes off the guy, who seems to have forgotten about me.

His hair and eyes gain more green as he mutters, “For it to be shaking that much even here, what could be happening…”

I don’t need to be Izzy to tell he is scared and very nervous. I find that a striking difference between him and me, or my fake daughter. Both of us are used to such dangers, while this man clearly isn't.

He stands up and begins to pace as Izzy moves closer to me and clutches my clothes. “Are we going to die down here?” Her voice sounds shaky as she stares at me with big green eyes. I notice Bowen glancing at us before forcing himself to look away.

I notice another earthquake coming through my kinetic senses, and time it just enough to speak a second before it hits. “I’m sure it won’t happen again. We’ll be fine.”

Then the whole place shakes once again, not as violently as before, but as the man is distracted, I seep a bit of my mana into the area. I don’t touch the arrays or try to influence the room, but I make the lights flicker out for a few moments, turning the place pitch black.

I whisper back.

The lights turn on again, and Izzy begins to sob. As the feylith looks at me, searching for relief in seeing someone calm. I return his gaze steadily, and that makes him relax a bit, but as he moves to look away, I make sure he notices my hand shaking.

Izzy must sense something from him because, taking the opportunity, she sobs louder. “It is so dark here. It will all fall down on us, I know it. I want mom!”

“Little Lady Isabella, I’m more than sure it will be...”

He doesn’t get to finish. I block one of the detection marks for a moment and channel my kinetic energy into the air, making it vibrate. It’s the kind of tremor you feel deep in your chest, the kind that sets your nerves on edge because you cannot tell where it’s coming from or what it is.

I send to the corgi.

At the end of my count, another earthquake comes, and this one begins to make me wonder, just what could be happening outside? Which leads to the thought that we’d better hurry up here.

This time, even Bowen screams and almost falls. Biscuit squeaks and runs like a rocket toward the stairway, heading downstairs. The lights flicker out again and die entirely, and this time it wasn’t even me.

When they turn back on, the lights are weaker and cast a dim red glow, probably drawing from whatever alternate power source the place has switched to. In the distance, loud clangs and alarms ring out as metal doors, each as tall as half my height, begin to drop and seal off sections of the space. They are likely trying to seal off the place before another tremor destroys another power source and makes it impossible.

Izzy whispers.

“I wonder,” I say, getting Bowen’s attention. “Should we move to a safer place before we miss the opportunity?”

The feylith doesn’t even respond. He takes off running, and I’m sure he would’ve left us behind if he thought he could.

I grab Izzy and follow after him. Soon, a few more feylith with the same idea rush past us. The doors ahead open only because of the implants the people working here have, and the attack arrays do not activate.

People shout, “Quickly, we only have a few seconds!” and “Go down the stairs!” Their panic noticeable even through the alarms.

These stairs aren’t very long, but they are circular and beautiful like everything else here, though not many people will likely ever see them. In the dim red light, they’ve taken on an eerie quality, and the darkness down there feels even more so. The metal clangs continue to sound as more doors fall into place and close until the final one seals the stairway as we reach the lower floor, plunging us into pitch darkness. No lights glow down here.

“It should be here…” one of the feylith women rummages around. With my senses, I watch her move toward one of the pillars and press the back of her hand against it. Nothing happens, and she curses, eventually finding some manual mechanism and opening a hidden door.

From her stash, a few items resembling glass orbs were produced. A gentle shake caused them to emit a soothing orange glow, eliciting relieved sighs from the assembled crowd. A quick scan revealed more of these orbs within, alongside provisions of food, water, and other unidentifiable objects.

Individuals continued to emerge from the opposite passage, predominantly feylith but with a scattering of patrons among them, illuminated by the orbs' radiance.

It was unsurprising that none attempted to utilize any skills; a persistent and potent field currently suppressed all mana.

If my assessment was accurate, the entirety of this subterranean pyramid was encircled by walls constructed from materials engineered to disrupt such energies. This was unlikely to be a natural formation, having almost certainly been the creation of an individual wielding formidable abilities.

The resultant fortifications were subsequently coated with a fine layer of a different metal, which served to neutralize the disruptive effect. However, just before the illumination failed, this metallic coating dissolved and receded, allowing the disruptive field to permeate the area.

The ingenuity behind it all was quite captivating.

Izzy tugged at my arm, then entwined it with hers. Tears streamed down her face as she cried out audibly, before pressing closer and whispering.

"I understand," I responded, stroking Izzy’s hair. Knowing her sensitivity to the emotions of everyone present, I recognized the immense burden these events placed upon her.

Subsequently, I dispatched a message through the lingering connection, one that persisted even within this field, established earlier.

The corgi was already actively investigating, but upon receiving my words and the mental image of the man, I sensed its rapid withdrawal.

"There is no need for alarm," stated the man adorned with a white brooch, his smile a practiced, cool facade. "This remains one of Hadon’s most secure installations. As you are all aware, this sector was enclosed a century ago within a static mana-nullification shell engineered by Champion Lorik. I shall personally interface with the hardwired communication conduit to ascertain if any information can be retrieved. Please, make yourselves comfortable in the interim. Bowen, attend to their requirements."

"I’m on it!" Bowen exclaimed. The verdant hue of his hair seemed to diminish slightly, replaced by a more evident display of confidence.

Meanwhile, I observed the feylith bearing the white brooch advance down the corridor, approaching one of the walls. Upon making contact, a section of it slid downward, revealing what appeared to be a cable extending upwards, connected to a small panel. He produced a brooch and pressed it against the panel, which then illuminated.

He paused abruptly, a frown marring his brow as his gaze scanned the vicinity.

Even as he held the radiant orb, the surrounding shadows deepened, momentarily suggesting a deceptive movement within them.

All illumination ceased abruptly, prompting startled cries from several individuals.

In less than a second, the lights were restored, and a solitary orb lay on the ground where the man with the white brooch had stood. He himself had vanished without a trace.

"Boss?" Bowen queried in a hushed tone, gazing intently in that direction, but no response was forthcoming.

The other individuals began to register the disappearance, swarming the spot where he had been or recoiling frantically from the empty space.

Amidst the ensuing pandemonium, Izzy’s voice cut through, "He escaped alone! He abandoned us here!"

This revelation only amplified the mounting terror. I noted that Noodle detached from her arm and moved towards the area where I sensed Biscuit once more. Then, the brooch affixed to the cable’s panel emitted a sharp cracking sound.

"C-an... you... h-ear me?" The voice was a fractured cacophony of digital distortions, repeating the inquiry in an endless loop. It remained entirely unaffected by the frantic shouts of those clustered around the control panel.

"I- re-peat... I re-peat..." A blast of static abruptly silenced a portion of the utterance. "...mpion Oolik and... Champion Ewqui-…both... deceased. Re-anim- Dusk Weredeer... eliminated... both."