Diary of a Dead Wizard-Chapter 214: The Interlayer (3)

To Saul’s left was the eerily familiar crimson door to the corpse room.

And in front of that door were two more identical ones, which meant Saul had arrived at the second floor of the East Tower.

“What the hell has Tower Master Gorsa been raising in the Wizard Tower?” Saul dared only to grumble in his heart. “Once I get stronger, I’m going to tie every last one of those arms and fingers into a dead knot!”

After venting his anxiety and gloom a little, Saul was once again hit with a headache.

“Flinging mental energy like magic really hurts.”

He dashed past the three corpse rooms and only stopped when he reached the sloped path at the end.

But then he noticed something unusual, hitting the brakes just in time to stop at the corner between the corridor and the slope.

From up ahead came faint whispers of human voices.

“So hungry… so hungry…”

Saul frowned, a wave of bad premonition welling up in his heart. “No way, not again. Is there no safe place in the East Tower at night?”

“So hungry!”

“So hungry!”

“So hungry! So hungry! So hungry! So hungry! So hungry!”

The voice suddenly grew louder, and from more and more directions came desperate cries of hunger.

The ravenous howls seemed to come from all around, yet no matter how Saul looked directly or peered through his semi-immersive meditation, not a single figure was in sight.

Finally, out of the corner of his eye, Saul spotted something white trickling down the wall.

He turned to look more closely and saw it was wax dripping from a candle sconce.

He had once guessed that each candle in the Wizard Tower was connected to a hidden pipeline.

When working normally, the candles would burn continuously, 24/7, thanks to the wax being constantly supplied through these pipes. Only broken sconces had dry pipelines.

These pipelines seemed neglected, but in truth, they were meticulously managed. Which candle needed refilling and which didn’t was perfectly orchestrated—never once had there been a malfunction all these years.

And yet now, after Saul’s soul accidentally left the vault, he encountered this anomaly of wax flowing from inside the walls.

And not just in one place.

To his shock, Saul found that all the walls around him—front, back, and sides, and every candle base were oozing warm, uncoagulated wax.

Worse, as the wax spread across the walls, the voices crying out in hunger grew even louder, surrounding Saul from every direction.

“So hungry! So hungry! So hungry! So hungry! So hungry!”

Seeing this, Saul knew he was in deep trouble again.

He tried to retreat back to the second floor of the East Tower, only to find that the wax spilling from behind was now covering the entire floor and walls.

On the slope ahead, the wax defied gravity and flowed up to the ceiling before trickling down in a shimmering curtain of waxen rain, completely sealing off Saul’s escape.

“Is this wax dangerous?” Saul glanced at the diary.

No warning.

Still, he felt uneasy.

He knew a bit about the composition of this wax.

The candles were originally meant to soothe soul, but the wax before him was clearly abnormal.

“So hungry! So hungry! So hungry! So hungry! So hungry!”

As wax consumed the walls, floors, and ceilings, the sounds in the corridor only grew more deafening.

“I can’t let that stuff touch me,” Saul thought resolutely.

But the wax-rain was already falling in front of him, and the wax behind was piling up fast, about to surround him. Left with no choice, Saul turned his gaze back to the first floor of the East Tower, where he’d just escaped from.

“Those ‘noodles’ probably can’t survive long outside. If I head back now, maybe I can use the dark corridor to avoid this out-of-control wax.”

The diary didn’t stop him, which meant those arms were probably gone. The plan was feasible.

Saul lifted off the ground. The longer he was separated from his body, the more comfortable he became in his ghostly state.

If not for the danger of staying out too long and becoming a real ghost, Saul might’ve enjoyed playing the wandering night phantom.

Just as the wax behind him began creeping up the ceiling, sealing off the last route, Saul quickly floated up, weaving through the encroaching wax.

But just as he was about to escape, the candle sconces on either side suddenly burst open, spraying wax like showerheads, drenching Saul before he could react.

The moment he was soaked, his airborne body suddenly felt leaden.

With a heavy thud, he crashed to the floor and landed squarely in the thick layer of wax.

If a third party had seen Saul at that moment, they might have been dumbstruck.

Because the instant Saul fell into the wax, his soul melted and merged with it.

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From above, one could see a flat, two-dimensional Saul within the wax.

“Eat him. Eat him. Eat him…”

The hungry whispers turned to greedy desire. The white wax, carrying the drifting soul, began to retract back into the wall pipes.

Everything returned almost to normal—clean, dim, tidy, silent.

Only near the shadowy corridor, two candle sconces had somehow fallen to the ground and now lay there, rolling in loneliness.

As for Saul, the moment he was drenched, he knew things were bad. The only small relief was that the diary still hadn’t reacted.

Now a two-dimensional being, Saul was dragged along by the wax, twisted and compressed until he was squeezed into the pipes.

As the light faded, the owners of the voices pounced on him from within the narrow pipeline.

Saul couldn’t see them, but he could hear them, and feel them.

Countless mouths bit into his soul, the sounds of tearing and devouring came from all around—inside him and out.

“They’re going to eat me!”

Even though the diary hadn’t signaled death yet, Saul began struggling in panic.

Especially when he felt one of his eyes get torn from its socket and chewed away. He instinctively reached with his right hand to grab it back.

Though his soul had already been distorted and that eye may not have been a real eye anymore, Saul instinctively knew it was something important.

But there were too many enemies. Even if he wanted to use mental energy to cast spells again, he couldn’t.

It hurt too much!

Every inch of him was being gnawed on by countless mouths, like a dying beast tossed into a lake of piranhas.

Worse, he felt his right hand get torn off. At that moment, the last nerve in his mind finally snapped!

“Hungry, hungry, hungry! That’s all you know—hunger!” Saul roared from the depths of his soul, ignoring the pain around him. “Well, I haven’t eaten either! Damn it!”

He completely disregarded the mouths, the pain, and even the possibility of dying here…

Opening his mouth wide, Saul bit into the shapeless, nameless enemy before him.

Ever since he’d bitten off a chunk of the noodle-arm, he’d vaguely realized—if other monsters could devour him, maybe he could devour them too.

Limited by his current awareness, the only way he could do it was with his mouth.

Saul no longer cared if the diary warned him, or if this would lead to other problems. At this point, his mindset was simple: when you owe too many debts, what’s one more?!

He bit down on one of the mouths and, burning with rage, chased after the one that had taken his eye and hand.

Along the way, anyone who bit him, he bit back. If he couldn’t reach them, he ignored them and just ate whatever was in front.

Gradually, fewer mouths dared appear in front of him, and his speed picked up.

Even in the narrow pipe, Saul was practically sprinting like a sprinter in a hundred-meter dash.

Through his spiritual perception, he could feel the thief that stole his eye and hand still ahead.

As nothing dared attack him anymore, nothing dared block him either, Saul finally caught the culprit, and without bothering to tell which parts were enemy or his own, he devoured it all in one furious gulp with his now-deformed mouth!

Saul: Ever since I stopped being human…

(End of Chapter)