Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 138: Coming back

Chapter 138: Coming back

Dust flew into Mandira’s face as she coughed and swatted the air.

"Ugh! Why is it always this dusty underground?" she complained, wiping her face with the sleeve of her robe.

Shennong, beside her, chuckled while pushing aside a large clump of dirt. "We are digging through earth, Archmage. Did you expect rose petals?"

"I expected magic, not manual labor," she grumbled. "This is barbaric."

"You could’ve floated above the tunnel if you didn’t want the authentic underground experience."

"I didn’t think you were serious when you said we’d dig all the way from your dungeon to the Academy."

"And yet," Shennong said with a grin, "here we are. Nearly there."

Mandira groaned, pulling her hood tighter. "Next time, remind me to just go there in person and risk alerting every detection ward instead."

The two of them moved forward, the narrow tunnel growing tighter as they approached a fork in the path. Shennong suddenly stopped and turned.

"By the way," he said casually, brushing dust off his shoulder, "do you know where we are right now? From memory, I mean."

Mandira narrowed her eyes. "From memory? How would I—?"

Before she could finish, Shennong stepped aside and pointed at another tunnel he had apparently dug earlier. "That one leads to the castle."

Her eyes widened. "You—What?! You have a tunnel leading straight to the royal castle?!"

Shennong smirked. "Of course. Just in case."

Mandira stared at him, wild-eyed. "Maybe you really are a threat to the kingdom..."

"I’m not," Shennong said calmly, "unless they do something stupid."

Mandira sighed and ran her hand through her dusty hair. "You’re dangerous, you know that?"

"Only if someone provokes me."

They moved deeper into the tunnel, the path gradually sloping upward. The air grew colder, the smell of soil replaced by the faint scent of old stone.

Mandira glanced sideways at him. "What are you planning to do with Christina?"

Shennong looked ahead. "What do you mean?"

"She’s not like you. She’s young. She has a future. Don’t take it away from her."

"I don’t intend to," he said, eyes softening. "If anything, I’ll make sure she has an even better one. Both her and Cassandra."

Mandira paused, watching his face carefully. "She trusts you. Too much, maybe. Lady Cassandra...if the crown gets to know what’s going on here she will definetly be called a traitor."

"She’s smart. She’ll figure out her own path," he replied.

Eventually, Shennong came to a stop and looked up, placing his hand on the soil. "This should be it. If your memory is right, and my calculations are correct..."

He began digging carefully, then pressed upward with his golden pickaxe. Dirt shifted, stone cracked—and a moment later, Shennong’s head poked through the surface.

He blinked.

Above them was a familiar ceiling, adorned with magical runes and floating candles. A bookshelf stood in the corner, and a desk was cluttered with magical papers.

"I remember this place," he said with a grin. "Your office, isn’t it?"

Mandira climbed up behind him, eyes scanning the room. "Yes. My private study in the Academy...how I miss this place."

Everything was clean. Not a speck of dust. Not even on the untouched tea set on her desk.

Her brows furrowed. "Someone’s been taking care of this place..."

She rushed to the door, tried the handle—locked from the inside.

"That’s odd. I always leave it unlocked when I teleport."

Then her eyes drifted to the corner, where a large teleportation circle was half-hidden beneath an enchanted rug. She knelt, flipping it over and inspecting the circle.

Shennong leaned over. "What is it?"

"This is my personal teleportation circle. I built it to avoid the Academy’s central teleport network, this is the reason why I was able to teleport with you." Mandira explained.

She placed her hand over it, muttering incantations. Layers of magic shimmered and broke apart like glass.

Her expression shifted from curiosity to horror.

"There’s... there’s a tracking spell woven into this."

"Someone’s watching your steps? Is it the king?" Shennong asked, frowning.

"It’s more than that." Her voice dropped. "It’s already triggered. Whoever set this knows we’re here."

A moment later, they both heard it—the soft clack of boots outside the door.

Mandira’s eyes narrowed. "Too late..."

The door opened with a magical hum.

A familiar figure stepped into the room, flanked by four guards in dark armor and two robed mages crackling with power. She wore a long red-and-white cloak, her raven hair tied up in a tight braid, her eyes sharp and calm.

"...Princess Maria," Mandira muttered under her breath.

The young princess stepped forward, her voice sweet yet filled with steel. "Archmage Mandira. I had a feeling you’d return someday. I knew you weren’t dead as they claim you are."

Mandira stood tall, hiding her tension behind a cool smile. "Princess Maria. You’ve grown bold to invade my personal space like this."

"I could say the same about you," Maria replied. Her gaze shifted to Shennong. "And you brought him as expected."

Shennong crossed his arms. "You knew we’d come here?"

"I was warned. The circle you hid was clever... but not clever enough." Maria smiled faintly. "You taught half the mages in this kingdom, Mandira. Of course someone would study your methods."

The guards fanned out, but made no move to attack.

Mandira took a deep breath. "So what now, Your Highness? You going to arrest me? Does empire want to get rid of me?"

Maria tilted her head. "What no? First of all, let’s be easy I am not here to do anything drastic. Why are you here?"

"To take something back," Mandira said.

"And him?" Maria looked at Shennong again.

"He’s..." Mandira hesitated. "An ally."

"Funny," Maria said. "Because from where I’m standing, he looks like a threat. Ever since I saw him back then I think he is a threat. Threat to my mental peace."

Shennong smiled. "Only if someone forces my hand."

The tension in the room grew thick.

But then Maria did something unexpected—she raised her hand and gestured for her guards to lower their weapons.

"I’m not here to start a war," she said. "Not unless you intend to."

Mandira’s eyes narrowed. "Then what do you want?"

"To talk." Maria stepped forward, placing herself between the guards and the mages. "There are things I want to understand. Things only you can explain, Archmage. Starting with why someone who vanished into a dungeon weeks ago is now digging tunnels beneath the capital and why this man looks simillar to me and why he has emerald eyes same as me and my family."

Mandira and Shennong exchanged glances.

"I’m listening," Maria said.

Silence stretched for a moment before Mandira let out a long sigh. "I have no idea what she is talking about...."

***

The ridge was a graveyard under the starless sky. Leige’s camp, once alive with the clamor of war, now lay silent save for the sickening moans and giggles that echoed through the valley.

The succubi had returned with vengeance, their forms weaving through the shadows like wraiths. The cavalry’s arrival had been a fleeting hope—slaughtered in minutes, their horses gutted and banners torn. Every soldier from Leige’s camp was dead, their bodies shriveled into husks, faces frozen in grotesque smiles of ecstasy.

Yet the succubi lingered, their hunger insatiable. A few men, barely clinging to life, writhed under the creatures’ grasp.

The succubi rode their dicks mercilessly, draining their last sparks of energy with every touch and breaking their pelvis on the process. Their laughter was a twisted melody, mocking the carnage around them. Tents burned, weapons lay scattered, and the air reeked of ash and death.

These were not the type of succubi to just drain a human, rather it looked like they were the worst kind of barbarians.

Commander Halric lay sprawled against a jagged rock, blood seeping from a dozen wounds. His sword was gone, lost in the chaos. His vision blurred, but he saw her—the succubus leader—striding through the slaughter. Her horns gleamed like obsidian, and her tail lashed with predatory grace. Her eyes, glowing crimson, locked onto him.

"You’re still breathing," she purred, her voice a venomous caress. "Stubborn, aren’t you? But that’s how I like it. Riding a man like you."

Halric spat blood, his voice a rasp. "You... won’t win. Leige will—"

His words cut off as her tail whipped forward, striking his chest like a battering ram. Pain exploded through him, and he was flung backward, crashing into a pile of broken shields. He gasped, clutching his ribs, each breath a knife in his lungs.

The succubus sauntered closer, her hips swaying. She knelt, pinning Halric to the ground with unnatural strength. Her claws grazed his cheek, drawing fresh blood. "Oh, sweet human," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "You thought you could march on this land? You’re nothing but cattle to us."

Halric glared, defiance flickering in his fading eyes. "Who... are you?"

She laughed, a sound that chilled his bones. "Call me Sylvara. And you, Commander, are exactly where I expected you to be—broken and bleeding." She leaned closer, her tail coiling around his leg. "My Darling Sister Yenissa’s been slacking, hasn’t she? I told her to keep you humans in your pens, docile and delicious. But here you are, playing at war. What the heck are you doing out here instead of serving us succubi?"

Halric’s mind reeled. Yenissa? A name he’d never heard, but it carried weight—a puppetmaster pulling strings. "You devils...will be eradicated from this land when our hero comes.," he coughed, blood trickling from his lips. "Evilspawn."

"Dear us succubi don’t serve anyone. We just want to feed on you humans,"

Around them, the succubi continued their grim revelry. A soldier nearby gave a final, pitiful moan before collapsing, his body a withered shell. The succubus atop him giggled, licking her lips before moving to another victim, a young recruit whose screams faded into silence. The camp was thick with their kind, their wings flapping as they dragged corpses into obscene piles, as if arranging a banquet.

"Now then, Sister where are you? Let’s see what you have been upto," Sylvara muttered, as she took of Halric’s armour and then clothes and then started to ride his cock to his death.

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