Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 63: Network of tunnels

Chapter 63: Network of tunnels

The tunnels seemed to stretch on forever.

Dim torchlight clung to the curving walls—faint, flickering flames that refused to die. Shennong’s undying torches. The only trace of him. Dozens of them. Too many. Each one leading deeper, crisscrossing like veins in some ancient, buried beast.

Yenissa exhaled slowly, trying to still her racing heart. The air was damp, thick with the metallic scent of Iron, copper, zinc dust and something older—forgotten. Her wings twitched against the tight tunnel ceiling, cramped and useless.

"I hate this," Rilith muttered, ducking beneath a low-hanging arch of rock. "We’ve passed this turn before. I swear we have."

Velara, at the head of the trio to ensure Yenissa came to no harm, remained silent. Her eyes swept across the torch-lit walls, suspicion growing with every step

"This isn’t going anywhere!" Yenissa muttered, glancing down.

The dirt beneath their boots was scuffed, scattered with footprints—far too many. She knelt and pressed her palm into the cold floor.

Rilith crouched beside her. "Those are ours. Look—see the clawed edge here? That’s mine."

Yenissa nodded, unease curling in her gut. "But we didn’t turn back. Did we?"

"No," Velara said. Her voice was low. "We didn’t."

The silence that followed was louder than any scream.

The tunnels were playing tricks on them.

Rilith’s was the most claustrophobic out of all of them, so she found it the worst. "We’re going in circles. Shennong... what were you even doing down here?"

"We can’t fly," Yenissa murmured, glancing up at the jagged ceiling. "And we can’t climb back. Those ropes we used—they’re too high now. Some snapped. And the others..."

"We’re stuck unless we find him," Velara finished grimly.

They walked in silence after that. Hours passed—or perhaps only minutes. They didn’t have the proper track of time. They passed fork after fork, dead end after dead end. Some passages ended in collapsed stone. Others just... faded. No scent. No wind. Not even the sound of their footsteps seemed real anymore.

Yenissa paused suddenly. "Wait... Velara?"

There was no response.

Rilith turned sharply. "Velara?"

The tunnel behind them was empty.

"Velara!" Yenissa called again, louder now. Panic crept into her voice.

Then, from somewhere in the distance—a soft voice echoed.

"Yenissa. Rilith. Come! Hurry!"

Velara’s voice.

It came from the right passage.

Rilith looked at Yenissa. "That’s her. That’s her voice."

Yenissa quickly sprang into sprint, as she understood that Velara might have found something.

The tunnel opened slightly ahead. There was a faint glow—the most valuable Lunamarite. Broken. Scattered.

Velara stood at the threshold of a massive hole in the wall, her figure illuminated by a strange light spilling from within. Her expression was one of stunned disbelief.

"Velara!" Yenissa called out, panting.

Velara didn’t even turn. "Look..."

Rilith stepped beside her and gasped. "By the Agraval..."

It was a cavern.

Massive. Glowing. Terrifying.

Lunamarite shards, shattered like crystal teeth, were scattered everywhere across the floor. Many of them were cracked and pulsing faintly with it’s energy. Some were broken to find pieces, while others were huge chunks.

And in the center of the chaos—blood.

Yenissa’s breath caught. Without waiting for the others, she leapt through the hole, landing on the broken rock below. She crouched, eyes darting from shard to shard until they locked on a faint trail—dark, thick, staining the stone.

Blood.

She approached it slowly, as if afraid the stains would vanish if she looked too closely.

She dipped her fingers into the thick smear. Still wet.

She brought it to her nose. Her face went pale.

"This is..." Her voice cracked. "This is Shennong’s blood."

Velara flinched. "No..."

Rilith dropped to her knees beside her. Her whole world starting to look blur, as her eyes were filled with tears.

Yenissa didn’t say anything immediately. She inhaled again, tears stinging her eyes. "It’s his. I would know it anywhere. His scent. His blood."

Velara’s jaw clenched. "Then something did happen here."

The three of them stared into the cavern, the enormity of it suddenly pressing on their chests like a weight.

"Shennong," Rilith whispered.

"Yenissa stepped forward cautiously, kneeling beside the broken chunks as she carefully examined everything. She noticed that something big had caused havoc here, and if that blood belonged to Shennong, it meant he had fought that huge thing.

Yenissa shivered just imagining something like that happening. "We...we need to find him,"

***

Shennong’s vision swam in and out of focus. The figure—no, the thing—that had been slumped lifelessly on the ancient Lunamarite chair now had both hands clamped tightly around his throat. Its grip was cold and inhumanly strong, like steel wire wrapped in dead flesh.

"You... have it," it hissed, voice like dried leaves scraping together. "Give it back..."

The pressure around Shennong’s neck intensified. Black dots formed at the edges of his vision. He thrashed, kicked, gasped. But it was useless—he was losing consciousness. Again.

Not this time.

He raised his trembling hand, as he summoned his most powerful and overpowered skill [Invenotry]/

Above them, with a shimmering hum, several blades blinked into existence. Daggers. Knives. Rusted throwing spikes. They hovered for just a moment—then dropped like guided arrows.

THUNK! THUNK! SHNK!

The creature that looked like a man let out a distorted screech as the blades dug into its pale skin. One embedded into its shoulder. Another into its neck. A third stabbed deep into its thigh. The grip loosened, just enough.

Shennong fell.

CRASH!

He slammed through an old table, the wooden planks shattering under his weight. A white-hot bolt of pain ripped through his ribs. He coughed—wet and gurgling. Blood splattered onto his lips. Something was broken inside. Maybe everything.

The figure above him staggered back, eyes narrowed with pain and fury. But then its gaze dropped—to it. The golden pickaxe still clutched in Shennong’s battered grip.

Its eyes widened. "Where... did you get that pickaxe?" it demanded, voice suddenly less monstrous, more... curious.

Shennong said nothing.

Instead, he waved his pickaxe.

A deafening BOOM echoed through the cavern as a wall of Lunamarite broke.. Shards flew in all directions, glittering like stardust. The fragments vanished into his inventory in an instant.

He braced himself for retaliation.

None came.

The creature just stared. Not in rage. Not even surprise.

In awe.

It murmured something he couldn’t quite catch. Was that... "He’s the one..."?

Shennong didn’t wait to find out. Gritting his teeth through the agony, he rolled over, dragging himself toward the tunnel’s mouth. One arm hung useless. Blood dripped freely from his nose and mouth. His steps were limping, uncoordinated. Like a puppet with cut strings.

He didn’t stop until the forest greeted him again—cool wind, damp earth, stars above like distant fireflies.

There, under a bent and ancient tree, he collapsed with a grunt. The bark scratched against his back, but he welcomed it. It was real. It was grounding.

He smiled faintly to himself. "Yenissa... if you were here, you’d have blasted that thing halfway to hell," he muttered. "Would’ve made it look easy, too."

His smile faltered.

"Your smile... always so bright."

He coughed again, more blood now. The metallic taste filled his mouth. "Second time today my life flashed before my eyes. Or... this week? Shit, I lost track."

He tried to get up—but his legs wouldn’t respond. It was like they no longer belonged to him. Panic surged in his chest.

Then a low growl echoed from the trees.

"No..." he whispered.

From the shadows, four forms emerged—Direwolves. Their fur glistened with ethereal dark-blue hues, almost like ghostfire, and their eyes glowed with a cruel hunger.

Shennong’s fingers dug into the dirt. "Shit. Shit."

He tried to crawl away. Pathetic. Slow. Every breath was pain.

One of the wolves lunged.

CHOMP!

Its teeth sank into his back, ripping flesh. He screamed, his body arching in agony.

Another clamped onto his calf. Then another. They were tearing into him, dragging him, snarling and snapping like wild spirits.

"I won’t—die—to fucking wolves—" he screamed, trying to roll over, to punch, kick, anything—

CRACK!

One of the wolves was suddenly flung through the air, smashing into a tree. Its body hit with a sickening thud and didn’t move again.

The remaining Direwolves froze.

From the underbrush, something slithered. Jumped. Landed. A blob—massive, slimy, with shifting tentacles and a single glowing core in its center.

It lunged.

Tentacles snatched a wolf mid-air and slammed it into the ground hard enough to break bones. Another wolf tried to flee—one of the blob’s limbs whipped out, spearing it through.

Shennong stared in disbelief. "What the... is that... a Core?"

The creature twisted and shimmered, the core pulsing faster. Before his eyes, it began to shift—its body molding, bones forming, flesh hardening. And then it stood.

A man.

It is the same man that choked him few minutes ago.

Tall, lean, eyes glowing faintly with Lunamarite energy. His features were sharp but expressionless—calm, neutral, like he had just taken a walk in the park instead of massacring ghost-wolves.

"W-Who the hell are you?" Shennong rasped.

The man didn’t answer.

Instead, he stepped forward, scooped Shennong up like a sack of potatoes—ignoring the blood, the wounds, the broken bones—and threw him over his shoulder.

"Hey—! Put me down!" Shennong protested weakly, coughing more blood into the man’s back.

The man didn’t even flinch. His legs blurred into motion as he dashed through the forest—smooth, fast, like wind incarnate.

Shennong thrashed once, but it was useless. His body was a broken bag of bones. Even lifting his arm took all his strength now.

"Damn it... I don’t even know if you’re saving me... or taking me somewhere worse," he mumbled.

The wind in his ears was answer enough. Leaves blurred past. The direwolves were gone. His pain was... still unbearable.

But he was alive.

For now.