He walked down along the stone steps. The stairs were slick and covered in moss, and wall lamps hung on both sides—long since extinguished. The deeper he went, the thicker the darkness became, and the heavier that evil presence grew. From below came a low, rumbling murmur—like countless people sleep-talking at once—making his scalp crawl.
At last, he reached the basement.
It was a massive vaulted stone chamber, even more spacious than the church nave above. In the center stood a circular altar built from black stone, covered in eerie runes. Around it, a gigantic, intricate blood-red ritual array was carved into the floor. The lines still glimmered faintly, releasing a nauseating kind of energy.
On top of the altar, a figure in a tattered black robe stood with his back to the entrance, both hands raised, chanting incomprehensible spells toward something floating at the altar's center.
The chant was twisted—neither human nor beast. Every syllable seemed steeped in sticky malice, stirring the darkness in the chamber like tidal waves.
Saitama's gaze was instantly drawn to what hovered before the robed man—
A deep-blue crystal!
Its size, shape, and the pure nebula-like halo it gave off were almost identical to the crystal they had obtained at the Sahara ruins. The difference was that this one was being tightly wrapped, invaded, and corroded by a dense, living-like black energy. The once-pure blue light had dimmed, and inside, that halo had been stained with an ominous black tint.
"So there's more than one crystal…" Saitama understood immediately. The Sahara crystal had been guarded by monsters, while this crystal was being used by this black-robed man—turned into an energy source to summon darkness and create monsters.
As if sensing the intruder, the chanting abruptly stopped. The black-robed man slowly turned around.
Under the hood's shadow, only a shriveled, bloodless mouth and a sharp chin could be seen. His eyes were buried in even deeper darkness, but Saitama could clearly feel two icy gazes filled with venom and mockery locking onto him.
"Hehehe…" A hoarse laugh—like sandpaper scraping—came from beneath the robe. "Finally, a somewhat decent… bug. A S.H.I.E.L.D. dog? Or some reckless super-hero who doesn't know when to die?"
Saitama didn't answer. He just looked at him calmly. "The monsters in the town—were they your doing?"
"They are the manifestation of my great master's power!" The black-robed man's voice was filled with fanatical devotion. "The sleeping darkness will awaken! The filthy light will be devoured! These insignificant mortals—being offered as sacrifices to welcome my master's descent—is their honor!"
He spread his withered arms wide. The oversized black robe fluttered even without wind. "And you, you pitiful bald bug—daring to trespass into this sacred place of blasphemy! Perfect. Let your life and soul become one more offering for my master's arrival!"
Before the last word finished, the black-robed man thrust both hands forward with a violent swing!
Whooooom—!
In an instant, the entire basement's dark energy boiled over. Countless thick, ink-like black mists surged out from the ritual array, from within the walls, and even from empty air itself—then squirmed together like living things, forming enormous, twisted dark tentacles.
They screamed as they lunged from all directions toward Saitama, carrying a suffocating stench. Each tentacle was covered in suckers and jagged teeth, radiating intense corrosive power and a maddening, mind-eroding aura.
(End of Chapter)
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