Not only was Karg on the verge of death, but Lina remained unconscious beside him, her scales appearing lifeless in the dim light.
"Hold on, Karg!"
Saruman's voice trembled without him even realizing it.
He quickly examined his comrade's injuries, and the more he examined, the more his heart sank to the bottom. Ordinary healing spells were completely meaningless when they touched those black lines; they were like water droplets falling on a red-hot iron, instantly evaporating, and even causing the lines to writhe in a more violent backlash.
Meanwhile, Karg's Life Force is being rapidly devoured by this bizarre pollution.
"Damn it! I have to save you!"
We can't hesitate any longer.
Saruman's eyes sharpened and hardened. He whispered to Karg, "Listen, old friend, you can't die here. I need to use an unconventional method. It might be painful, and it might have unknown consequences. But it's the only chance to save your life for now."
It's obvious.
Saruman had other forbidden methods he hadn't used.
He kept restraining himself from using it.
It's probably because the cost of that method is too high.
"Uh... it's normal for me to return to my hometown. Don't do anything that Eternal Damnation." Karg's unfocused gaze barely spun, and he saw the unwavering determination in Saruman's eyes. He wanted to shake his head, to refuse a method that might put his dearest friend in danger, but he didn't even have the strength to lift a finger.
"No, if you die here, you'll likely end up like the enemies we've encountered, imprisoned for eternity. I absolutely do not want to see you suffer that fate."
Saruman said no more.
He closed his eyes, placed his hands lightly on Karg's chest, and began to chant an ancient and difficult incantation.
This knowledge was not recorded in any orthodox magical texts, but rather fragments he learned from ancient scrolls considered taboo, which he discovered in some sealed ruins.
That's why they say archaeologists have so many methods.
Archaeologists in the Wizard world are incredibly knowledgeable and often possess magic unimaginable to ordinary people. Saruman, for example, directly used ancient Dark Magic.
The syllables of the incantation were distorted and blasphemous; each note uttered chilled the surrounding air, and the eerie carvings on the corridor walls seemed to pulsate slightly in rhythm with the incantation.
The unusual phenomena reveal that this kind of Dark Magic is probably exceptional even among Dark Magic, surpassing even other forms of Dark Magic.
"Now that things have come to this, I can only blame myself."
Suddenly, a dark, almost ghostly light, seemingly emanating from the depths of the underworld, emerged from Saruman's palm.
It slowly seeped into Karg's chest. It wasn't a healing light full of vitality, but a contradictory energy that carried the aura of death yet forcibly sustained life.
"Ugh--!" Karg suddenly opened his eyes wide and his body convulsed violently.
He felt a cold and powerful force forcefully injected into his body, not to dispel the black patterns, but to temporarily "suppress" them in a more domineering way.
At the same time, a clear life force belonging to Saruman, like a gentle stream, flowed through the dim light and into his nearly depleted body.
The pain subsided slightly, and his reason returned somewhat. Karg looked at Saruman in shock, his voice hoarse. "You—what are you doing?! Saruman! You're sharing your life with me!?"
He sensed it; it wasn't just Magic Power, but something more fundamental—lifespan, fragments of the soul. The other party had actually used a life-sharing type of magic!
"Further words are useless. Believe me, this is definitely the best way. You've all ended up like this because of me." Saruman's face paled, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, but his hand on Karg's chest remained as steady as a rock. He forced a weary smile.
"Actually, if we can't escape, it doesn't matter how many lives we have left. And—" He paused, a silver glint flashing in his eyes, "having defeated those two ancient Wizard in succession, my understanding of magic—"
I've already touched the threshold of Legend. My life is still long. Sharing some with you is no trouble.
His words were understated, but Karg knew that this "sharing" was far more complex than he made it out to be.
This was forbidden Dark Magic, and the price would inevitably be heavy. He wanted to struggle, to refuse, but the Life Force injected into him was like a sweet spring, giving his body, which was on the verge of collapse, a renewed vitality, and temporarily suppressing the pain and madness brought by the black patterns that were like a bone-deep affliction.
"You really have always been a madman. No wonder this place hasn't polluted you as quickly." Karg sighed and grumbled at his best friend.
Now that the magic was complete, he could only grit his teeth and remember this heavy sacrifice. After all, he couldn't very well come back to life and then slit his own throat.
That would be truly stupid, not some Mary Sue drama plot. Karg knew very well that he had to make the most of the life he had been given.
Even if Saruman were to slit his own throat now, the price he had already paid could not be made up for. Although he was not Wizard, Karg's understanding of magic was more comprehensive than that of many ordinary Wizard.
I'll say it again.
After all, being a member of an archaeological team, over the years, most people, unless they're intellectually challenged, would have accumulated a considerable amount of relevant magical knowledge.
"Alright, let's continue searching for a way out."
After a brief period of stability, they had to continue. Saruman helped Karg up, then carried the unconscious Lina on his back, and stepped back into the seemingly endless corridor.
The journey that followed was a recurring nightmare of despair. The Infinite Corridor seemed enraged by their resistance, revealing even more bizarre traps and enemies.
They encountered the " Dreamweaver form was elusive and who could manipulate fragments of dreams to weave deadly illusions; the " Abyssal Balrog," whose body was made of lava and obsidian and who could summon subterranean fire and sulfurous gas with a wave of his hand; and even the " Spacetime Weaver," who could distort space itself and trap them in fragments of Time Loop.
"Perhaps, my breakthrough to Legend is my only chance of survival!"
Each encounter was a life-or-death Wizard battle. Saruman's power grew rapidly under extreme pressure, and his use of various elemental magic, mind spells, and even spacetime magic became increasingly refined and exquisite. Indeed, as he said, he was infinitely close to the Legend realm.
"The pollution hasn't affected me that much anymore."
With his temporarily stabilized body and unwavering will, Karg repeatedly wielded his greatsword, using his warrior's methods to buy Saruman the opportunity and space to cast spells.
They fought, they won, and they trudged through the corridors, their bodies battered and bruised.
This was a perilous experience, yet hope, like a flickering candle in the wind, was rekindled time and again, only to be extinguished again and again by the cruel reality.
No matter which direction they go, no matter how many traps they break through or how many powerful enemies they defeat, they will eventually always circle back to that despairing "origin"—near the niche with the giant octopus relief. The corridor is truly infinite, a true prison.
one day?
Two days?
Many days?
In this dark and sunless underground, no one can accurately calculate how much time has passed, because any device capable of recording time will simply malfunction and become unusable here.
In conclusion
Food and water had long been exhausted, and they were barely surviving by Saruman using magic to convert energy.
Lina's corruption was slowly but steadily deepening. In the occasional moments when she awoke, her eyes had completely lost their human color, leaving only emptiness and madness.
Despite the suppression from Saruman's Life Force sharing, the black markings on Karg's body continued to slowly erode, and with each battle, the suppression would loosen a little.
but.
For the time being, it seems there won't be any major problems. Saruman's Dark Magic is dark enough to withstand Cthulhu Pollution, which is truly unbelievable.
certainly.
This is also largely due to Saruman's own life form being very close to Legend, and his significantly enhanced resistance to contamination from higher life forms.
Karg, who shares Saruman's life, can also enjoy the benefits of Saruman's life level.
However, even so, exhaustion, despair, and the constant whispers and buzzing continued to erode their spirits like a dull knife cutting into flesh.
Is it really possible to find a way out?
Until one day, during a brief rest, Saruman leaned against the cold wall, his empty gaze sweeping over the eerie carvings that seemed eternally unchanging.
His brain was working at an unprecedented speed.
Every experience, every detail, every battle, and every change in space after entering the ruins was reassembled and analyzed in my mind like a jigsaw puzzle.
"No! No! I know!" Suddenly, a thought that he had ignored or subconsciously avoided pierced through the fog of his mind like lightning.
Saruman suddenly opened his eyes, his silver pupils flashing with shock and realization.
" Karg," his voice was hoarse with excitement, as if he had discovered something incredible, "We—we might have been wrong from the very beginning."
Saruman's tone was extremely aggressive.
"What?"
Karg looked up at him wearily.
"Clearly, there's no way out of this corridor. However, every time we encounter the enemy, every time this place tries to hinder us, there's one thing in common."
"Haven't you noticed? It's always when we go back to that place, back to outside the stone gate." Saruman took a deep breath, pointing in the direction they came from, the direction they'd circled back to countless times. "We must go back. Back to where we first entered—the stone gate."
Karg was stunned, his face filled with confusion and resistance. "Why? That's a dead end! We've tried, the stone door can't be opened from the inside! What's the point of going back?"
"Just as I said, there must be a reason why this place is blocking our way." Saruman stood up, his eyes terrifyingly resolute, as if he had grasped at the last straw. "The only way out may not be hidden at the end of this Infinite Corridor. The only way out—most likely—lies inside that stone door."
He paused, looking into Karg's confused eyes, and said, word by word, "We thought that stone door was the entrance to somewhere, but perhaps it's the real test. We thought escaping this corridor would lead us out, but perhaps this entire corridor was just a way to keep us away from that door, making us overlook its true secret."
"Go back to that stone gate entrance. There, we have our only way out." Saruman wasn't looking for answers, but rather to verify his guess about the way out.
Karg looked into the unwavering resolve in his best friend's eyes and fell silent. Despite his inner turmoil and unease, he knew that Saruman's wisdom was their only guide.
"Okay."
He nodded heavily. And so, in this seemingly Infinite Corridor from which there seemed to be no end, the two wounded men leaned on each other, and with a companion corrupted by the power of the deep sea, they began to move against the footsteps of their countless futile attempts, toward their initial and final destination—the entrance to R'lyeh.
They had no idea what was behind the door.
It's just that the exit is hidden there.
So they turned back with great difficulty, still holding onto hope.
I guess you could say ignorance is bliss.
They didn't know what slept behind the stone door, nor did they know the name " Cthulhu." For the two of them, all they knew was that this was their last and only direction in their despair.
The journey back was even more arduous than the journey forward.
It wasn't because the journey had become more dangerous—the eerie traps and ancient Wizard phantoms were still there, and they still needed to be on high alert to deal with attacks that could occur at any moment.
The biggest difference is actually a completely different mindset.
While moving forward, a faint hope lingers in one's heart that "perhaps the next turn will lead to the exit." But turning back is to actively embrace the known despair, to admit that all previous Hard Work were misguided, and to walk step by step back towards that unknowable and indestructible gate of death.
Every step.
They may all be standing on the ashes of fading hope.
If you can't find a gas station in that area.
There was practically nothing left but to accept one's fate.
This is what causes the most anxiety and unease.
"Be careful, this place might be trying to stop us. It's conscious and has very likely overheard our conversation and what it's implying."
Saruman walked silently ahead, his senses spreading out like a spiderweb, alert to everything around him. The continuous battles and the use of forbidden magic had cast a faint, undetectable shadow over his originally silvery radiance—a mark left by excessive exposure to the knowledge of the abyss.
However, despite this, his gaze was sharper than ever before, like quenched iron. In his mind, every detail about the stone gate—the reliefs, the material, even the energy fluctuations he felt when he pushed it open—was repeatedly recalled and analyzed.
The child's brain is operating at high speed.
He only hoped to find the gas to open the stone gate and return to the human world before he returned. But if only things were that simple.