Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End

Chapter 590.2: Where Are We (2)

Roel finally breathed a sigh of relief. The load on his heart was finally lifted. He rested his back against the icy-cold wall while listening to her steady breathing. He felt good despite not being in the best of conditions.

He had faced far too many close shaves with death over the past few days, but he had managed to pull through all of it together with Wilhelmina. Now that her safety was finally guaranteed, he could turn his attention to other matters.

Where are we? Roel wondered as he examined the surrounding stone chamber.

The two of them had been transported out of the desert into this narrow space under the effects of Shrouding Fog’s Silver Devourer, but this knowledge did little to answer the question of where they were. In any case, he wasn’t too optimistic about their plight.

Based on what he had felt when they were first transported into this place, he deduced that it could be an independent space, but that would have to be verified. Since Wilhelmina was out of danger, he thought he should try exploring the area.

He had long noticed that, on his left, there was a section of the wall with a slight hint of discoloration, which he deduced to be a door. He had refrained from approaching it thus far out of safety concerns, since it was likelier for them to encounter threats than helping hands.

It was still risky for Roel to explore the area in his current state—he was in a worse condition than when he first entered this space—but there were reasons compelling him to do so, such as food and water.

High transcendents were freed from mortal limitations, capable of surviving even without consuming sustenance as long as there was mana in the environment. However, water was still necessary for them, particularly when they had lost a great deal of blood.

Roel had sustained many severe injuries from the earlier battle, and he even severed his own heart later on. Similarly, Wilhelmina had bled so much that she was bound to be running dry by now. It was too torturous for them to continue going without water, and it would significantly slow their speed of recovery too.

They would become the joke of the millennium if they survived an encounter with the deviants’ Race Sovereigns, only to die of thirst in the midst of their treatment.

I’ll have to head out and take a risk. At the very least, I should get a grasp on the nearby situation first…

Roel looked at Wilhelmina, who had worked so fast to recover that she passed out, and sighed under his breath. Then, he slowly got to his feet.

“Water, huh?” he murmured.

He did one last check on his equipment before heading toward the room on his left.

…

As a proxy fief lord, Roel Ascart had cultivated the habit of investigating the local culture and climate whenever he arrived at a new place.

Such information did far more than expand one’s outlook on the world.

In this medieval era, where transportation was inconvenient and information was scarce, knowledge was both an asset and proof of status. It was resource-consuming and dangerous for one to go out and explore the world, after all.

A village chief could wow their villagers just by sharing what they had seen and heard in the city. This showed how important knowledge was.

To Roel, who possessed his memories from the previous world, the stark differences between the two worlds intrigued him, which was probably what piqued his curiosity in the first place. With the knowledge he had accumulated in his journeys, he was confident that he could figure out some clues once he started exploring the area.

It didn’t take him long to realize that he might have been too arrogant.

Upon pushing the door, he was met with a pitch-black corridor fashioned the same as the stone chamber he was previously in. One salient feature immediately popped out to him: emptiness.

Sculptures, furniture, or adornments—there was not a feature in the corridor that provided him with contextual clues. Even the walls were layered using monotonous pitch-black stones.

By this point, it had already dawned on him what kind of place they might have been in.

Is this a fortress? Roel wondered with lifted eyebrows.

He assessed his surroundings and found many doors similar to the one he had just walked out of. All of them were tightly shut, and there was no hint of light under any of them.

“I guess there’s no one here. Well, I figured as much. I doubt that we would have been able to peacefully stay there for the past two days otherwise,” Roel murmured under his breath.

He was still able to see despite his dimly-lit surroundings thanks to his enhanced vision as a high transcendent. Knowing that there could be traps along the passageway, he invoked the Nine-headed Serpent and had it scout the way. At the same time, he wrapped his other hand around Ascendwing so that he could make his escape right away.

He vigilantly headed in the direction he believed led out of the facility while making a mental map of his surroundings. By taking note of the key details, he soon figured out the nature of the facility he was in.

Is this an underground military bunker?

This was the thought that surfaced in Roel’s mind as he looked at the low ceilings and pitch-black passageway.

Underground military bunkers were usually found only in large-scale fortresses. The army of a typical noble was small enough to be housed in the fortress itself, so underground facilities were reserved for the incarceration of criminals instead.

Only powerful nobles with a huge military force would struggle to find space to house their soldiers and be forced to develop underground facilities for new soldiers.

That realization excited Roel.

If his deduction was on the mark, he should be able to find a wine cellar here. Every fortress would have a wine cellar, whether it was to host distinguished guests or to celebrate a victory. While it wasn’t exactly water, it would suffice for high transcendents like Roel and Wilhelmina.

Is it deeper underground?

Roel quickly ventured ahead and soon found his destination.

His eyes widened the moment he detected the scent of oak barrels and faint alcohol. Without any hesitation, he marched forward and pushed the door open.

An alcoholic aroma rushed at him.

What appeared before his eyes were huge wine barrels placed in neat rows. Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly grabbed a cup, tapped a bit of fruit wine, and gulped it down.

It was so invigorating that it felt like he had been given a second life.

With the replenishment of water, his dulled physical functions began churning at their previous efficiency. Clarity quickly returned to his head. As he was about to get another cup, he noticed words inscribed on the barrel that caused his movements to stall.

<Year 1005, December. Product of Tark Stronghold>