Gargoyle Supremacy-Chapter 68: Gargoyles Don’t Climb Stairs. We Jump.

Meanwhile, Rosa stood at the heart of the facility’s darkest and most dangerous section, Section F, which was a zone designated for death-row prisoners and hostile entities. A thick, ancient tome floated behind her, and its runes glowed with faint energy.

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In this part of the base, Rosa’s focus was drawn to a peculiar enclosure, where an artifact was sealed behind reinforced showcase glass, emanating a sinister green mist. The artifact, a faintly glowing green ring, pulsed with eerie miasma, filling the surrounding chamber with spectral forms. Green ghosts swirled within the mist, and their distorted faces pressed against the glass as if they were mocking Rosa.

Her gaze shifted to the room’s placard. Both she and the hovering grimoire checked the designation simultaneously.

ECD-44, "Ghost Ring."

"Tsk," a gravelly voice grumbled from the book floating at her shoulder. It belonged to Merlin, the ancient spirit bound to the grimoire. "Got enough gold marks to purify that abomination, missy?"

Rosa rolled her eyes. "I was a priestess, old man. 100 gold-mark job is nothing."

Merlin chuckled, "A hundred gold marks? That’s pocket change for what you’re looking at. That stupid ring isn’t just cursed. It’s a portal catalyst. Give it a month, and it’ll open a rift big enough to let in an entire spectral army. You’d need 1,000 gold marks minimum to handle something like this."

Rosa frowned, "A thousand? You’re exaggerating."

"Am I? If you can’t purify that thing, it’ll unleash an apocalyptic mess, and let me tell you, missy. It won’t stop until it tears through the entire North America Continent! Find someone with enough power to snuff it out. Someone like that ’detective saint’."

Rosa hesitated. "What about my boss? He’s been purifying relics left and right."

"Demon Lord Pebble?" Merlin scoffed, "Not a chance. He’s still rebuilding his strength. Wasting him on this? Reckless. We’ll need him at full power for what’s coming. Conserve his strength. For now, you’ll have to trust me."

Rosa hated to admit it, Merlin had a point. "Fine. What do we do?"

"Carry me. I’ll guide you. We’ll find the detective or someone else with enough divine power. But you’d better hurry. Time isn’t on our side, and neither are the ghosts."

With a resigned sigh, Rosa picked up the grimoire. She spared one last glance at the haunted artifact and the spectral forms within the green mist before teleporting away. A part of her longed to return to Carn’s side, to fight alongside him against the facility’s horrors. But for now, she had to trust Merlin and follow his lead.

.

As Carn continued down the hallway toward the containment area of Section A, Gawain slowed his pace. Finally, he broke the silence.

"My lord, back when the detective and I were tracking a relic of the Lich King, we discovered it had ended up in your possession. Did you do something to it?"

Carn shrugged. "I purified it and sold it to a holy spirit. It’s not something you need to worry about anymore."

Gawain exhaled deeply, "I was worried for nothing, then. I should have trusted you. I’m sorry, my lord. Back then, I made a mistake by exposing you. I should’ve kept my silence."

Carn turned his head slightly, giving Gawain a sidelong glance.

"What’s done is done. The past doesn’t matter now. What matters is the present. Let’s focus on catching any stray researchers who are still lurking here. We’ll extract everything they know about the chalice and the other artifacts they’ve stolen from our world."

Gawain nodded, feeling a weight lift off his chest as his lord’s indifference put him at ease. Together, they pressed forward, their footsteps echoing in the dimly lit corridor. The air was thick with tension, every shadow along the walls carrying the possibility of an ambush.

As they neared the containment area, the faint hum of machinery grew louder, punctuated by the occasional crackle of distant energy fields. The corridor split into several pathways at an intersection, but one path immediately caught their attention. It led to a single door sealed with glowing yellow tape emblazoned with the warning, "Keep Out." Above the door, a tarnished label plate read "ECD-87."

Carn pointed at the door. "What artifact or entity is in there?"

Gawain was as clueless as Carn, "I don’t know, my lord. This is my first time here as well. Only the geezer in the grimoire would know."

"We should have fetched that grimoire geezer. But I already sent my subordinate to retrieve him. Why is she taking so long?"

His thoughts wandered to Rosa, the inquisitor that he had tasked with handling another part of the facility. He extended his Aether-enhanced senses, trying to pinpoint her location, but the facility’s structure and unnatural barriers kept her out of reach.

Carn growled, "It doesn’t matter. Whatever’s inside, we’re going in to check it out ourselves."

Gawain agreed and stepped forward to take the lead. He tore through the glowing yellow tape with ease and pushed the door open, revealing a series of emergency stairways spiraling downward into darkness. The hum of machinery intensified, accompanied by rhythmic, almost metallic noises coming from below, as if a massive drill or engine was operating in the depths.

Both Carn and Gawain leaned over the edge, gazing into the abyss. Though no visible light illuminated the stairwell, their enhanced vision allowed them to see everything as clearly as if it were daylight.

Carn extended his sixth sense, mapping the strange environment. About a kilometer below, something caught his attention. It was a sentient sword, glowing faintly with a sinister light. The weapon floated freely along the staircases, descending deeper into the unseen depths as if it was luring them. Its pulsing energy emitted the mechanical noises they’d been hearing.

Gawain muttered under his breath as if he recognized something, "Isn’t this... a dungeon? I…I think it’s a spiral-type dungeon. The kind where you can only move up or down. Most of the time, the dungeon core should be at the deepest part of the dungeon, while traps and monster residents blocks the paths."

Carn was amused as he was an expert in dungeons, "You’re not wrong about the spiral dungeon type, but there’s something missing. Don’t you feel it?"

Gawain hesitated, focusing on his surroundings. Suddenly, the realization struck him. "Ah! I see it now. There’s no Aether. No miasma. It’s too clean."

The air in the stairwell was unnaturally sterile. The oxygen levels were so thin that an ordinary human would struggle to breathe, yet it was fresh and lacked the oppressive atmosphere typical of Aether-rich dungeons.

"This isn’t a natural dungeon. It’s artificial. Someone built this." Carn concluded.

"An artificial dungeon... but for what purpose? It’s as if someone’s mimicking a dungeon without understanding what makes it work."

"Whatever it is, we’ll find out at the bottom. But be prepared. If this place was made by humans, then everything here is likely a trap. And if there’s a core, we’ll analyze it when we get it."

Gawain unsheathed his gold sword, "Understood, my lord. Shall we descend?"

"Alright."

Both men quickly came to an agreement. Instead of descending the stairs like ordinary humans, they vaulted over the guardrail and plunged straight down the central shaft.