I descended along the vines that had grown from the entrance downward.

Maybe due to the continuous aftershocks, there were chunks of stone sticking out loosely from the cave walls here and there.

But they seemed to be deeply rooted—it didn’t look like they would fall anytime soon.

‘Good thing I came alone.’

If Hwa-eun had seen this, she would’ve had a heart attack. So I reassured myself I’d made the right decision to come down solo and kept descending quickly.

I hadn’t gone far when the light began to fade rapidly.

Even the vines were no longer visible.

I quickly enhanced my vision using the Beast-Eye Art and sent a warning through the group mental link.

『“Be careful, Choya. It’s getting dark.”』

—Tsurururu. (Okay, Daddy.)

It had darkened, yes, but there was no way Cho, a centipede, wouldn’t be able to see in this kind of environment.

Centipedes were nocturnal by nature, after all.

So the warning was more of a “just in case” sort of thing.

‘What could be down there?’

I continued descending, anticipation growing—until I noticed the vertical shaft was gradually narrowing.

I wasn’t sure how far I’d come, but the massive opening I started from had already shrunk to about two-thirds of its original size.

‘So it tapers inward as it goes down.’

It was getting narrower, but not to the point that it restricted movement, so I pressed on.

But then, not long after, it suddenly felt pitch-black.

I hadn’t dropped that much further, but nearly all the ambient light was gone.

Cho was still descending fairly quickly—her vision apparently still functional—but the Beast-Eye Art couldn’t handle it anymore.

So I closed my eyes and switched to infrared vision.

Suddenly, everything around me appeared in shades of green.

The shaft had now narrowed to about half its width—but even that faint visibility was rapidly fading.

Then, as I descended further, true, suffocating darkness set in.

『—Tsurut! (Daddy, it’s completely dark! I can’t see anything!)』

Hyang cried out that she couldn’t see a thing. That made sense—the Beast-Eye Art, infrared vision, and even centipede eyes relied on trace amounts of light to work.

They didn’t see in total darkness per se; rather, they amplified faint light sources—like starlight or moonlight—that humans couldn't detect.

Which meant we had now reached a zone where even those trace photons didn’t reach.

But something about it felt wrong.

Light, theoretically, should travel in a straight line forever through darkness.

So no matter how deep we were, it shouldn’t have completely vanished like this.

Even Cho eventually came to a stop and sounded uncertain.

『—Tsurut. (Daddy, I can’t see anything.)

—Tsururururu. (Me neither. Sis. I haven’t seen Hyang in a while either.)』

Cho could no longer see either, so I decided to try lighting a flame.

『“Kids, I’m going to try making a fire. Cover your eyes.”』

『—Tsurut. (Daddy, fire? But you don’t have a lantern.)』

Instead of answering Hyang, I summoned a flame at my fist.

I drew on the power of Seomseo Explosive Palm, igniting Hwayang’s blue flame atop my hand.

It wasn’t the strongest light, but it produced a surprisingly decent glow.

—Whoof.

A bright blue fire bloomed on my fist.

But something was... off.

The blue flame, fueled by internal energy, should’ve burned away the darkness.

Even if it wasn’t “real” fire, Seomseo’s blue flame should have illuminated at least a little around us.

But it was as if the flame was wrapped in something—it barely spread beyond the surface of my fist.

I couldn’t see anything in the surrounding area.

『—Tch!? (What is this? Why’s it still so dark?)

—Tsururu. (Daddy, something feels weird...)』

It was strange.

The light should’ve bounced off the walls, revealing their surface—but it felt like we were trapped in some kind of fog.

As we all stood frozen in this oppressive darkness—

"Ah!"

—Tsurut! 『Something’s coming!』

Suddenly, a thick tremor surged from the abyss below—air itself vibrated, and a low rumble slammed into us like a shockwave.

—RUUUUMMBLE.

An earthquake!

‘Tch! Of all times—why now!?’

My guts and brain both vibrated in tandem.

The cave walls and everything around us began to tremble violently, sending shudders through my entire body.

My ears felt like they were tearing apart. Remembering what Hwa-eun taught me when I first met Mother Hoja, I used my internal energy to shield my hearing.

Immediately afterward, dust and gravel began raining down like a storm.

—Rustle rustle rustle.

From this height, even a fist-sized stone could be a death sentence.

I immediately drew on the body-guarding qi field that Gun Hye-rin had taught me to shield myself.

Just as I was about to wrap it around us, Cho let out a shriek—maybe out of fear or shock from the tremor.

『—Tsururururu! (Kyaaa!)

—Tsurut! (Sis!)』

Startled by the quake and Cho’s scream, Hyang rushed up and covered both her sister and my head with her own body.

Her carapace was sturdy—she must’ve been trying to protect us.

『“Cho, cling to the wall!”』

Worried that she might’ve been rattled by the tremor, I shouted at her to stick to the cave wall—and she obeyed immediately, not even waiting for me to finish.

At the same time, the group chat rang out with voices from Hwa-eun, Gun Hye-rin, and the princess.

『“So-ryong, what happened? Say something!”

“So-ryong! Was that an earthquake? Are you alright!?”

“So-ryong, are you okay!?”』

—Cough cough.

Covering my mouth with a cloth amid the dust, I responded through the chat.

I was rattled, sure—but if I delayed replying, Gun Hye-rin might actually jump in after me.

I had told them to come if something happened, but right now, it was too dangerous.

『“I’m okay. Just startled by the sudden quake, that’s all.”』

『“You’re really okay?”』

『“Yes, nothing happened. Some rocks fell from above, but nothing serious. Cho, you okay?”』

『“A rock hit my antenna. It startled me, but I’m fine.”』

Her antennae were sensitive, so it made sense that getting hit spooked her.

We clung to the wall for a bit, and eventually, the falling debris stopped.

‘Has it passed?’

The quake had finally stopped.

We still couldn’t see anything, and there was no telling when the next tremor would strike—so I flipped upside down and latched onto the wall to continue descending headfirst.

『“Let’s keep moving while hanging upside down.”』

『—Tsurut. (Got it, Daddy.)』

Tsruru. “Dad, I’ll block the top.”

“Okay, Hyang, cover it up well.”

Tsrurut! “Leave it to me!”

I resumed moving, tense as ever, but I had barely descended when Cho suddenly bumped into something.

Tst. “Ugh.”

“What’s wrong, Cho?”

Tsruru. “I think it’s the bottom?”

When I felt around the area Cho indicated, I sensed a floor scattered with small stones.

It felt like a bunch of rocks had piled up from above.

So this really was the bottom. And right then—

A cry rang out in the darkness.

Jjaek-jjaek. Jjirureu?

Tsrurut. “Dad, someone’s asking who we are.”

It sounded like a bird call—sharp and high-pitched—so I was a bit let down.

It seemed to be a spirit creature, yes, but it gave off a bird-like feeling.

If it was down in a cave like this, there was a good chance it was some kind of avian spirit.

‘Ah, maybe a bat spirit?’

It might be a bat spirit. With such sharp sounds, it could well be using echolocation.

Since I could not see anything, I leaned against the wall and spoke in the direction the sound had come from.

“Ah, we just came down because we heard strange noises from the cave. We’re not bad people. Actually, I’m the only person—these two are my daughters, and they’re Wugongs.”

After I introduced us, a cry rang out.

Jjirureu?

Tsruru. “Yeah, he’s our dad. He’s raised us since we were little. But what about you—why are you here all alone?”

From the way Cho was speaking informally, the spirit must not be very old. In response to Cho’s question, a slightly sad cry followed.

Jjirururururu.

Tst. “Really? Ah, so that’s what the noise was. Must’ve been rough being alone.”

Jjirujjiruru.

“Cho, what’s it saying?”

Curious about their conversation, I asked Cho, who relayed what had been said so far.

Tsrururu. “Ah, it says it was born down here. It wanted to go up to that light way above, but couldn’t. So it kept crying out and trying to make bits of soil fall, hoping to fill the bottom and climb out.”

Sounded like its mother had laid an egg or given birth here.

This vertical cave was certainly a safe place for that.

But while the place may have been safe, the mother hadn’t considered her child’s abilities.

‘She ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) should’ve thought about how the kid was going to get out.’

Apparently, the creature had some kind of sound-emitting ability, and since the vertical tunnel narrowed toward the top, it kept slipping when it tried to climb. So it used its power to shake rocks loose and tried to fill the bottom that way.

‘This is like the story of the Foolish Old Man Moving Mountains.’

Just like that old man, this little guy was trying to fill up the bottom with fallen rocks.

Pretty impressive. I was glad we came down—otherwise one of those jutting rocks might’ve fallen and hit us.

They looked pretty secure, but even a sturdy root can be felled after enough strikes.

“Do you want us to carry you up?”

Jjirureuk!?

“We flew down here, you know. So we can just fly back up.”

Jjirururu! Jjirururururu!

I did not know exactly what it said, but the happy-sounding cries told me all I needed to hear.

Tst. “Please, Dad. Let’s help it.”

“Alright, fine.”

Even if it was not the spirit creature I was hoping for, I decided to rescue it since it was still a spiritual being.

“Come over here then.”

Jjirureu.

Dalkrak. Dalkrak.

It stepped over the scattered pebbles and approached us.

When I reached out, I realized it really was a small one—it crawled up my arm with ease.

About the size of my forearm.

‘Hm? It’s got a lot of legs.’

At first, I thought it was a bat or some kind of bird.

Especially a bat—given the sound-emitting ability and the tremors it caused in the funnel-shaped cave.

But multiple legs meant it was an insect.

I gently felt it—six legs.

Definitely an insect.

‘Nice.’

As I reached out and touched it, I felt soft, fuzzy hairs.

‘What the—so fluffy?’

I do hate fur, but insect fuzz is different from mammal fur.

Insects grow bristles as extensions of their exoskeleton, not as shedding strands like mammals.

Jjirureuk?

It let out a little cry as if to ask why I was touching it, so I gave it a little pat and said,

“Hang on tight, I’m going to start climbing. No, wait—what if you fall? I’d better carry you.”

I casually cradled it in my arms.

Sure enough, the soft fuzz was real.

And it definitely had six legs.

“Let’s go, Cho!”

Tsruru!

As I told Cho to get us out of here, I kept thinking about what this creature might be.

The surroundings were quickly brightening as we flew up toward the sky.

Cho picked up speed, and unlike the slow descent, we managed to fly back out in a very short time.

But even though things were brighter, I still couldn’t see what it was.

Some kind of black mist was still surrounding us—probably the creature’s doing.

“Is that you, So-ryong?”

“I can sense my master’s energy, but master, what’s this fog?”

Apparently, we had reached the entrance again—Hye-rin and the Princess were calling out.

“Can you get rid of this fog?”

I asked the creature to clear it away, and the mist vanished in an instant—finally revealing its true form.

“Gyaaah!”

And I couldn’t help but scream at the sight of it.

Because the creature was a Panda Ant.

They call it an ant, but it’s absolutely not an ant.