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Morris, trailing behind Vanna, arrived at the edge of this mysterious abyss. Lifting his lantern, he found that its light seemed almost consumed by the surrounding darkness. Rather than disappearing completely, the light became overpowered, unable to pierce the gloom. It only managed to weakly reveal a precipitous slope along one side of the chasm, while the vast majority of the space remained veiled in shadow.

“This isn’t typical of any mining structure I know,” Vanna commented cautiously, casting a quick glance back at the normal mine shaft they had followed to reach this unsettling location. “It’s as though the regular passage just cuts off here. This spot matches the ‘stone wall’ mentioned in those investigative reports.”

Bending down to scrutinize a small area of the chasm wall, which was barely illuminated by his lantern, Morris mused, “It’s as if some immense entity once filled this entire space, and with its absence, all that remains is this gigantic void.”

Duncan, noticeably concerned, furrowed his brows. “How is it that such a massive cavity has stabilized and not collapsed? If it does, the repercussions for the city above could be disastrous.”

Shifting his focus to Agatha, Duncan queried, “You’ve seemed uneasy for a while. Are you alright?”

Agatha hesitated before speaking, “I can’t see this ‘void’ you’re talking about. What I sense is a cacophony—a large, distorted echo filled with the sound of wind. Are you sure there’s truly nothing beyond this point?”

“There’s absolutely nothing I can see, and no detectable trace of any residual supernatural energies,” Vanna confirmed confidently, then pondered aloud, “But if you’re sensing something, it could mean there’s some sort of resonance between you and whatever residual energies might still linger here.”

Shaking her head, Agatha turned towards Duncan and asked, “What do you think we should do?”

Duncan seemed resolute. “We must go in and investigate.” With a wave of his hand, he conjured a ghostly green flame. From it emerged a skeletal bird, wreathed in the same eerie fire, which alighted on his shoulder.

Ai, observing the scenario unfold, chirped, “The veteran has arrived! The veteran is here!”

“To mitigate the risk of a cave-in, we’re bringing this bird with us,” Duncan elaborated. “Once we’re inside, stick close together and keep your eyes on the ceiling and the walls for any signs of instability. Should there be any indication of a collapse, we’ll teleport everyone out immediately.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Understood.”

“Got it.”

“Hehe…”

Gently patting Alice’s head, Duncan reassessed the uneven terrain at the edge of the abyss before boldly taking the first step into the encompassing darkness.

The rest of the group followed suit.

As they ventured into the void, they encountered a steep, uneven slope. The path was far from straightforward, regularly interrupted by jagged terrain and labyrinthine forks that demanded their utmost caution. This treacherous incline seemed to plunge deep into the very core of the enshrouded void as if leading them toward its mysterious, hidden depths.

The path they treaded on seemed like a deep indentation in the stone as if molded by a substance long since eroded away. Duncan moved deliberately through the dark, his ethereal green flames silently emanating from his feet as he walked. This spectral fire cast a muted glow within a limited radius around him, creating a vibrant “trail of flames” behind him. Anyone looking back could see this phosphorescent line undulating its way through the shadows, forming a vivid outline that traced their route back to the mouth of the void.

In a place where darkness stretched infinitely, setting markers for the way back was absolutely critical. While the spectral dove was their ultimate safeguard for an emergency escape, Duncan didn’t take any chances. He left a trail of these flames as they ventured further. These spiritual fires were more than just markers; they extended his sensory perception, allowing him to detect any minute shifts or changes in the surrounding cave walls.

In Vanna’s grip, a sword had materialized, crafted from shards of frozen storm. She wielded it in one hand, her senses keenly attuned to the potential threat of any lurking creatures concealed in the impenetrable dark. Beside her, Alice nervously clutched her own head, anxious that she might stumble and plummet into the abyss. Agatha, still disoriented by the peculiar “echo” that clouded her perception, relied on Vanna’s steadying arm to negotiate the uneven terrain. Meanwhile, Morris was engrossed in a close examination of the rocks lining their path.

“The stone here is exceptionally dense, almost as though it’s been compacted together,” he observed, lifting his lantern to peer into the distance. The silver light from the lantern flickered in his eyes as he added, “If the entire cave is composed of rock strata like this, it could explain its surprising stability, even after whatever once filled it has long disappeared. The stone forms a thick, heavy ‘inner shell’ that gives structural support.”

Pausing, he added cautiously, “However, it’s puzzling. For a cavity of this magnitude, a single layer of dense stone would hardly be sufficient for support. There must be additional structural features.”

Intrigued, Vanna couldn’t resist asking, “How much do you actually know?”

“My interests span mathematics, history, chemistry, mysticism, physics, a smattering of geology and mining, and of course, combat, firearms, mechanics, and explosives,” Morris listed nonchalantly.

Vanna found herself speechless. “How… How did you become so knowledgeable?”

“Reading a lot of books helps,” Morris shrugged, “After all, I am a historian.”

Vanna glanced at Morris, puzzled. She mused on how the majority of the topics he mentioned were not typical prerequisites for a historian. But after a moment’s hesitation, she chose not to comment.

Agatha, supported by Vanna, appeared to be deep in thought. She was once again profoundly intrigued by the eclectic expertise of one of Captain Duncan’s crew. The last time she was this struck was when she learned that Vanna was an “athlete.”

Yet Morris seemed entirely unaware of the sense of awe he had inspired in the others. His focus had already returned to the peculiar stones beneath their feet.

Illuminated by the glow of the green flame and his lantern, the rocks displayed an understated metallic gleam. Upon closer look, they seemed to bear intricate patterns—unless his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Curious, the elderly scholar bent down to pick up a fragment for closer examination.

Suddenly, he froze.

Noticing this, Duncan also halted and peered at the rock fragment in Morris’s hand. “Is there a problem?” he inquired, his voice tinged with concern.

After a pause that seemed to stretch for an eternity, Morris finally snapped out of his reverie, his voice tinged with a sense of wonder, “It’s raw ore. Astonishingly, it’s almost pure enough to fuel a steam core reactor directly.”

Agatha swiveled her head sharply at his words. “Raw ore?”

“Indeed,” Morris confirmed, almost in disbelief. He hastily bent down to pick up another fragment and then crouched to examine the sea of stones around his feet. The more he looked, the more his eyes widened with awe and apprehension. “No wonder… I thought the texture of these so-called ‘stones’ felt strange, but I couldn’t pinpoint why due to the low lighting.”

Suddenly, the elderly scholar looked up, locking eyes with Duncan and Agatha. His face was a mask of incredulous amazement, coupled with the gleam of groundbreaking discovery. “Captain, Agatha — this cave, or at least the ground we’re standing on, is made entirely of raw ore!”

The air seemed to freeze as every member of the party digested the monumental implications of Morris’s discovery. Duncan sensed a heightened emotional tension emanating from Agatha while Vanna felt her hand trembling ever so slightly.

For a native of Frost, no one understood the gravity of discovering “raw ore” better.

“We’ve stumbled upon new veins in the mine,” Vanna finally said, her voice quivering with restrained emotion as she tightened her grip on Agatha’s hand. “It appears Frost won’t be plagued by scarcity for some time.”

“True, we’ve found a trove,” Agatha mumbled, her voice laced with a complex mixture of relief, wonder, and apprehension. “But why… why is this here?”

Duncan knitted his brows, puzzled. “Could it be that the corrosion from the Nether Lord actually generates raw ore? According to our intelligence, that entity was responsible for creating this massive void…”

The atmosphere shifted instantaneously, becoming charged with a grave solemnity. Even Alice, who often missed the gravity of situations, sensed the change. The puppet pulled gently at Duncan’s sleeve and timidly asked, “Captain, what exactly is raw ore?”

Duncan sighed. Amidst the seriousness of the moment, Alice remained blissfully obtuse.

“Raw ore is the cornerstone of modern industry,” Duncan explained patiently. “It’s the fuel that powers steam-driven machinery. Just as humans need food to live, machines require raw ore for operation and manufacturing.”

Alice listened with a look that suggested she was only halfway following, and after a prolonged pause, she finally nodded, “Oh~”

Duncan decided not to ponder whether Alice had actually grasped the concept. Instead, his eyes returned to the impenetrable darkness ahead.

His curiosity had morphed into an insatiable hunger to know more.

If the cave they were now traversing was constructed of such a high purity of raw ore, what other unimaginable secrets could be lurking in its deepest recesses?