After over a year alone in the empty Sand World, hearing another voice—one that could communicate—filled Kay with a desperate excitement, even if it made his head throb. He glanced back at the dark tunnel he'd come from; he was already lost in this underground labyrinth. Following the voice was his only choice. Besides, its sheer power left him no room to resist—if it had wanted to harm him, he would've collapsed long ago.
An hour later, he stepped into a vast cave. The darkness vanished, replaced by light from yellow energy crystals embedded in the walls—crystals far finer than any he'd seen in Moses' lab. Their glow was almost blinding; dozens of them dotted the cave.
"You want these Tier 2 Energy Crystals?" the familiar voice asked, softer now, no longer painful.
Kay froze. At the cave's center, half-embedded in translucent yellow amber, was a colossal worm—even its severed body stretched nearly a hundred meters, coiling around the cave walls. Its jagged fangs and the ragged stump of its tail sent a chill down his spine. Yet its voice was calm, almost casual, as if offering the precious crystals for free.
Kay stayed silent. In the Underdark, power imbalances meant domination, not equality. He couldn't fathom what he had to offer this terrifying creature.
The worm didn't wait for a reply. "Energy crystals are currency across the Astral Sea's planes—I assume your powerful wizard civilization uses them too. These Tier 2 crystals? Just condensed earth-element energy from my body. Treasure to you, trash to me. Your life level… not even Tier 1, is it?"
Kay still said nothing. It wasn't defiance—they existed on such different planes of existence, conversation felt impossible. He'd barely touched Tier 1 crystals, let alone Tier 2. And "Tier 1 life level" likely referred to formal mages like Moses.
"You mentioned a deal earlier," Kay finally spoke, using Wizarding World tongue. "What kind of deal?"
He needed to know his leverage. Deals implied mutual need—and as a mere apprentice, he refused to be a pawn.
The worm fell silent, then spoke slowly: "I'm an otherworldly creature, stranded here through a spatial rift. By Astral Sea standards, I'm a Tier 4 being. Your world's Guardian misunderstood me—she drove me off and dumped me in this broken plane. I want you to deliver a message of goodwill to your wizard civilization. I've heard of your Wizard Alliance… I want to join it."
Its severed body made it clear: the Guardian had been brutal.
"In return," it added, "I'll give you all these Tier 2 crystals. And you're looking for a way home, aren't I? I can show you where the old portal used to be."
It had been watching him. The crystals were tempting, but the portal's location—that was his ticket home.
"How can I help you?" Kay asked. He knew an apprentice like him could never reach the wizard elite.
The worm seemed to anticipate this. "Find a Holy Tower organization. Tell them about me. If a Tower Lord agrees to advocate for me, resolving misunderstandings and joining the Alliance will be easy."
"Deal," Kay said without hesitation. The Alliance could wait—he just needed to leave.
Thirty-one Tier 2 Energy Crystals were his advance payment. The worm promised more if it joined the Alliance. A Tier 4 being's reward… Kay didn't let the thought cloud his judgment. Something felt off about the worm's friendliness.
They talked for half a day. Kay mustered the courage to ask about the world beyond—where the worm was from, what the Astral Sea was like, how planes connected. It was the curiosity of a true mage, the same drive Moses had praised in him long ago.
The worm answered selectively. It didn't name its home world or share its Astral Sea adventures, but it told him: the Astral Sea was where all planes resided; fly beyond a plane's barrier, and you'd reach it. The stars Kay saw at night? Each was a plane. The Sand World's three suns? Small fire-element half-planes orbiting it.
It was a new universe—endless,(brilliant)—unfolding before him.
Kay left satisfied. The underground sandworms didn't hinder him; the Tier 4 king had ordered it.
Only after his vanished did the cave fill with the "shurr" of writhing bodies. The loss of 31 crystals dimmed the cave, making the worm in amber look even more menacing. A dozen giant sandworms—over thirty meters long—emerged from the shadows, their auras matching Darlon, the Dark Mage Academy's Dean. Slitted eyes glinted with cunning—proof of their high intelligence.
"Lord," one hissed (in the sandworm tongue), "why let that tiny apprentice go? What if he exposes us? And joining the Wizard Alliance…?"
"Silence!" another roared, its fangs nearly sinking into the first worm's neck. Sandworm hierarchy brooked no dissent—all were the king's offspring.
"The Wizard World is stronger than we imagine," the king's voice echoed from the amber. "Foolishly, I crawled through that natural rift, hoping to feast on a mana-rich plane. I ate many creatures—even a few Tier 3s—before their Guardian came. That Guardian… I suspect she's Tier 6 Peak, on the cusp of becoming a True Spirit Lord. One strike, and she split me in two, tossing me here like garbage. I only survived by devouring my other half to preserve my core—and this plane's sand-element laws suited me."
It had wandered the Astral Sea for fifty thousand years, a powerful Tier 4. Yet it had been crushed before it could even understand the Wizard World. Joining the Alliance was a last resort—survival.
It didn't truly want to join. It just needed time to heal and flee. The Sand World was a worthless, forgotten plane, but it was still within the Wizard World's domain. For a creature marked by their Guardian, every grain of sand was a threat.
The natural rift it had come through was sealed by the Guardian. Escape was impossible—unless it waited.
"You felt the battle between those two demigods a year ago," the king said. "In my prime, I'd laugh at them. Now? I can't take them. And I fear drawing Tier 4+ wizards' attention. Let the boy distract them. If he gets me into the Alliance, good. If not—give me time. I'll get us out of here."
To stand behind a powerful world and civilization—what a privilege. Leveraging the Wizard World's fame, Kay, a mere apprentice below Tier 1, had spoken to a Tier 4 creature. The worm had shown him deference only because of the Wizard World's might.
But…
"Contact a Holy Tower Lord and advocate for it?" Kay glanced back at the sand valley as he walked away. "It clearly doesn't understand the Wizard World's internal divisions—how Dark Mages and Holy Tower Mages are mortal enemies. Even if I could help, I'd only reach the Dark Mages at the academy. I wonder what Mentor Moses or the Dean would make of that giant worm…"
Following the Sand Worm King's directions, Kay used the three suns as guides, trekking across the endless dunes. The sandstorm a year earlier had carried him far; shifting sands had only made it worse. Even with the king's rough coordinates, he estimated it would take two months to reach the old portal site.
In reality, it took longer—half a year. Finally, as he trudged through the sand, the black handle in his hand stirred. The crystal ball in his palm showed a flat desert, indistinguishable from the rest of the Sand World. A year earlier, this spot had been filled with tents and alchemical artifacts; now, sand had buried everything. Without the handle's pulse, Kay would never have believed this was where the portal once stood.
"The rift's completely gone," he muttered, staring at the crystal ball—cracked, but repaired three months ago. "Why haven't Mentor or the Dean rebuilt it? Did something happen? There were so many Holy Tower Mages on the other side…"
Most of Kay's gear was in shambles after two years in the Sand World: his earth shield ring, his invisibility cloak—only Lina's black crystal bracelet remained intact. In the past year, he'd figured out its uses: it boosted dark magic mana recovery by 30% and held a "Dark Aura" spell—offensive (a dark energy beam strong enough to threaten high-tier apprentices) and defensive (a protective dark veil). That veil, layered with his earth shield, had saved him from the sandstorm.
He counted his supplies, then activated the Elemental Orbs, channeling mana into the handle. The familiar spatial pull returned—rougher, stiffer than before. He didn't know what that meant, but he had no choice. As the pull wrapped around him, a thought flashed: What if this fails? Will I die?
Strangely, the word "death" didn't scare him—it felt like a relief. Maybe he'd been ready to die since he'd ventured into the underground cave, when all hope of returning home had faded.
The spatial tearing overwhelmed him. His consciousness blacked out, and his figure vanished from the dunes.
When Kay woke, he was surrounded by absolute darkness—but instead of fear, he felt a deep, abiding comfort. This was the Underdark. The Wizard World. His home plane.
Any creature that spends long away from its home plane feels the difference upon returning—like a child back in its mother's arms, a wanderer home at last. It's a warmth no other plane can give. Usually, only Tier 1+ mages notice this—they're the ones for planar wars, the ones allowed to travel to vassal or alliance planes. Few apprentices ever experience it.
Kay had joined that rare group. And because he'd stayed in the Sand World so long, absorbing its aura, he felt the contrast between planes more acutely than Zorro or the others ever had.
He pulled out his cracked crystal ball. Its faint glow revealed his stats:
• Mental Power: 52
• Mana: 47
• Constitution: 16
Under Moses, his mental power had grown by 8 in three years. In the Sand World, it had jumped by 14—enough to qualify as a high-tier apprentice. All he needed now was to master a high-tier spell's model, and he'd be one.
"I checked my stats before leaving the Sand World," he murmured, scratching his stubble. "They were around 45 then. Why the jump? Did returning to the Wizard World cause this?"
He was standing on the broken magic altar he'd used to enter the Sand World. It hadn't been completely destroyed—thankfully, or he'd have been stranded forever. This was Shadow Valley. Once bright as day, it was now pitch-black, living up to its name.
After two years under the Sand World's harsh sun, Kay's night vision was gone. Losing his pale mask (his first magical item, now shattered) only made it worse. He'd repair it someday—maybe even upgrade it with his alchemical skills. Gear was part of strength; if he'd had as many artifacts as Zorro or Phil, he might not have wasted two years in the desert.
As his eyes adjusted, he saw the ruins: Shadow Valley had been reshaped into a small basin by some unimaginable force. Collapsed towers and furrowed ground told of a brutal battle. No bodies remained—either collected by the combatants or consumed by the Underdark's scavengers.
Only the altar had survived, save for a few cracks. It was a miracle—one that had let him return.
"What happened here?" Kay's heart raced. "Where's Mentor? Where's Lina?"
He pushed aside his joy at being home and his excitement over his boosted stats. There was nothing more to learn in Shadow Valley. He turned toward the dark depths and walked on.
Shadow Valley was far from Menzoberranzan. The airship had taken a week; on foot, it would take longer—especially since he didn't know the exact route. But Kay didn't care. He'd survived two years in the Sand World; a little more time meant nothing.
Menzoberranzan was his best bet—if the Holy Tower Mages had taken even that, the Underdark would have no safe place left for Dark Mages. "Please be okay," he whispered, hurrying onward.
He barely ate, surviving on Elemental Mushrooms (somehow tastier now that he was home) and the occasional low-tier salamander lizard. A month later, he reached Menzoberranzan's borders.
At a small subhuman village, he learned the truth: four years had passed since he'd left Menzoberranzan. Two and a half had been in the Sand World; the rest, he guessed, had been lost to the spatial rift's time distortion—especially with how rough his return journey had been.
Four years. He was twenty-four now.
Kay trimmed his beard and hair, shedding his "wild man" look. His deep, calm eyes and golden hair stood out, even in a cheap black moss cloak—his mage's aura was impossible to hide. He looked older, wiser.
Then, a boom shook the air.
Fighting was still going on in Menzoberranzan.
If the battle raged, the Dark Mage city hadn't fallen. Mentor and Lina might still be alive.
Kay ran toward the city center. When he finally caught sight of Menzoberranzan's walls, his blood ran cold—half the walls had collapsed under some immense force. This wasn't a battle; it was a last stand. The explosion had come from the Dark Mage Academy in the city's heart. Black smoke billowed into the air.
Yet the city wasn't in chaos. He saw civilians being led out, kept in order by armored humans. These warriors had no elemental aura, but their raw vitality and menace made Kay feel like he was facing a formal Dark Mage.
Knights.
The bodies of minotaurs and torn dark creatures littered the ground—killed, no doubt, by these knights. Kay stared at one knight a moment too long; his eyes stung. Then, a spear shot through the air, slamming into the ground just in front of his hiding spot.
"Who's there?!" a voice roared.