Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 329

Chapter 329 Chapter 77.6 - Mine

While Carl was fighting with the bodies rising from Death, Astron plunged into the darkness of the chosen tunnel, his steps silent against the cold, hard ground.

The tunnel bore the scars of heavy use, with marks on the walls where tools had chipped away at the stone and footprints long set in the dust, leading deeper into the heart of the earth.

As he advanced, the unsettling laughter that had accompanied them thus far resonated through the tunnel once more, wrapping around him like a chilling breeze. "Have you discovered the answer to my riddle, wanderer?" the voice taunted, its tone dripping with amusement and malice.

Astron remained silent, focusing on the environment.

He had considered the riddle, its words echoing in his mind, but he decided to not answer it.

Seemingly disappointed but not deterred, the voice cackled again. "No answer? Perhaps you require a clue to guide your way. But remember, every clue has its price," it sneered, and with a final, mocking laugh, it vanished into the silence that followed.

Before a second passed, the ground beneath him stirred. From the earthen floor, figures began to emerge, not of bone and decay, but formed from a viscous, black liquid that seemed to absorb the faint light around them.

These figures, shaped into the forms of miners complete with uniforms and pickaxes, stood before him, a ghastly imitation of life.

Their eyes, empty yet filled with a haunting light, fixed on Astron as they brandished their tools menacingly. "He has the 'thing,'" they whispered amongst themselves, their voices a chorus of despair and accusation.

"Give it to me!"

"Give it to me!"

"Give it to me!"

Without hesitation, the liquid-formed miners charged at Astron, their movements eerily silent. Astron, had already noticed that he would combat against something, so he didn't mind.

These were no ordinary foes; they were manifestations of the earth spirit's power, shaped from the memories and despair of those who had once toiled in these tunnels.

Dancing between the swings of their pickaxes, Astron fought back with precision and grace. Each strike he delivered disrupted the liquid forms of his attackers, causing them to momentarily lose cohesion before they reformed, relentless in their assault.

SPURT!

And after not even a minute have passed, the miners all disappeared, returning to the black liquid they once were.

However, in the corner of his eyes, Astron could see a source of mana moving. It had the small black liquid form, but he knew it was the culprit.

Yet, as he attempted to chase, another wave of miners rose from the ground.

"I need it. I need the reward."

"I need it. I need the reward."

"I need it. I need the reward."

"I need it. I need the reward."

This time they had repeated a different word, yet they pounced at him with their eyes bloodshot.

As Astron continued to fend off the relentless waves of liquid-formed miners, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him.

Each time he dispatched a wave, they dissolved back into the black liquid from which they came, only for another group to rise up in their place.

As he continued to fight, Astron's mind raced with possibilities. Perhaps there was a relic or artifact hidden within these tunnels, something that held the power to control or manipulate the earth spirits.

Or perhaps it was something more sinister, a curse or enchantment that had bound these miners to an eternity of servitude and suffering.

But regardless of the cause, Astron knew that he could not afford to falter. With each step closer to the end of the tunnel, he felt the weight of his task pressing down upon him, urging him forward.

But it wasn't just the ceaseless onslaught that troubled him. There was something different about these miners compared to the previous attackers.

They all referred to him as if he possessed something they desired, repeating the same phrase with a disturbing fervor: "I need it. I need the reward." Or with something like, "I am the one who can only get it."

Their eyes, once filled with haunting light, now glinted with madness and cruelty, a stark contrast to the hollow gazes of their predecessors.

Astron realized that there was a pattern emerging—a pattern that hinted at a deeper connection between these miners and the source of the voice.

******

Sometimes, we people wonder what fate is awaiting us. Is this life worth going through? Do we really need to overcome all these obstacles?

Everyone had these types of moments to think. But then, as we live our lives in our monotonous ways, in the flow of our daily lives, we forget to question such things.

After all, even after questioning, how many could get the answer they wished? This was essentially why most of the nihilist and anarchist people were observed to be the ones who had a lot of free time.

Then, what happens to those who are tied into this underground place, working for their lives on the line? Do they get to question these things? Do they have free time?

Do they even live as a human being? Living in the darkness underneath the ground where no sun could enter, trying to meet the next month's daily expenses.

How do the people giving them these jobs view them?

Isn't the answer obvious?

Numbers.

Just numbers. Many can go, and many will come. The people will leave, and others who need money will come. The cycle will continue, and the things will remain the same.