Reborn as a Hated Noble Family, We Start an Industrial Revolution

Chapter 43: Chapter 43: The Lost City

Abyssal Zone – 2,000 Meters Deep. Behind the Adamantite Gate.

GRRRRMMMMM...

A heavy, ear-splitting rumble echoed as the ten-meter-high metal gate mechanism began to grind open. Dust that had settled for millennia fell from the massive hinges, creating a thick, gray veil.

A draft of cold, strange-smelling air immediately billowed out from the widening gap. It didn’t smell of earth or fungus like the upper caves. It smelled of ozone, sterile metal, concrete dust, and absolute void. It was the scent of a tomb sealed airtight.

Sir Riven was the first to step inside, his great shield raised and his Chain-Axe glowing dimly, ready to strike anything lurking behind the door.

However, the moment his foot touched the floor past the gate, he froze.

His footsteps didn’t make the usual CLACK sound against stone. Instead, they made a softer TAP.

Riven looked down. He wasn’t standing on dirt or cave rock. He was standing on a smooth, flat, black surface with faint, regular white lines.

Asphalt.

”By the Gods...” Riven whispered, his axe slowly lowering to his side. His eyes widened, trying to process the nonsensical sight before him.

Behind him, Sir Rianor, Elara, and Lady Rhea followed. Their reactions were identical. Mouths slightly agape, breath hitched.

They were not inside a natural cave.

They were on the outskirts of a City.

Within this vast abdominal cavity of the earth—whose ceiling was so high it was beyond the reach of their floodlights—lay the ruins of an ancient metropolis frozen in time.

Skyscrapers made of reinforced concrete and dull glass towered into the darkness, like giant fingers trying to reach for the cave’s ceiling. Most of the buildings had collapsed, tilted, or leaned against one another like drunken men. Their glass windows were shattered, gaping like thousands of blind eyes staring into nothingness.

Wide roads stretched in a precise grid, filled with the rusted carcasses of strange metal vehicles—horseless, without wooden wheels, instead possessing rotting rubber tires and aerodynamic metal bodies.

Street lamps that had long since died stood in neat rows like soldiers who had failed their duty. And far in the distance, at the heart of the dead city, a massive needle-shaped central tower still pulsed weakly with a faint red light. Like a dying heart.

”This... this isn’t a mine,” Captain Garrick muttered, his legs trembling violently. He held his spear hesitantly, unsure of where to point it. ”Whose kingdom is this? Dwarves? Underground Elves?”

”No,” Rianor replied, his voice shaking. He walked toward a bent street lamp, stroking its cold, smooth surface. ”This is Human.”

”But... Humans from the past. A time before the ’Dark Ages’ told in legends.”

Elara stared at the skyscrapers in a mix of awe and horror. As a mage who understood structures, her mind rejected what she saw.

”The architecture... it’s impossible,” Elara whispered. ”Buildings that tall... with no magical support pillars? No reinforcement Runes? How could they stand without collapsing under their own weight?”

”Physics, El,” Rianor answered softly, his eyes glistening behind his lenses. ”They mastered physics and mathematics long before our ancestors learned to light fires with magic.”

Riven walked toward a rusted vehicle—a sedan that was completely corroded. He gave the bumper a light kick.

CLANG.

The hollow metal sound echoed.

”So all this time...” Riven looked at Rianor. ”We’ve been living on top of their graveyard? Our castle, our village... they stand on the roof of this dead world?”

”History was erased, Brother,” Rianor said, looking at the ghost city with a sorrowful gaze. ”Perhaps a great disaster happened thousands of years ago. War. Or a plague.”

Rianor pointed to a faded metal billboard on the wall of a nearby building. The text was still faintly legible: PROJECT LEGION – THE FUTURE OF OUR DEFENSE.

”And they...” Rianor continued. ”...They tried to create a weapon to survive that disaster. But it seems the weapon devoured its creators instead.”

Suddenly, Lady Rumina tugged hard on Rianor’s sleeve.

”Brother Nor...” the little girl whispered, her voice squeaking in fear.

”What is it, Rumi?”

”Look at that.” Rumina pointed toward one of the office buildings with shattered windows, about fifty meters from their position.

Deep within the darkness of a gaping second-story window, there was movement.

Shadows.

Not one. But many.

Rianor immediately sensed the danger.

”TURN OFF THE MAIN LIGHTS!” Rianor ordered in a sharp, urgent whisper. ”Switch to dim mode! NOW!”

The soldiers reflexively switched off their bright blue headlamps. Darkness enveloped them instantly. Only the faint red light from the emergency indicator on Rumina’s helmet illuminated the area within a three-meter radius.

In that blood-red dimness, their eyes began to adapt. And they saw the inhabitants of this city.

The creatures began to emerge from hiding.

They crawled out from behind building windows, slithered out of manholes, and leaped from car roofs.

They were humanoid. They had two arms and two legs.

But their bodies... were wrong. Very wrong.

Their skin was deathly pale like corpses soaked in water, without a single strand of hair. Their bodies were skeletal, ribs clearly visible, yet the muscles in their arms and legs were as lithe as twisted steel wire.

And their faces...

Flat.

No noses. No ears.

Only a wide mouth filled with irregular, sharp teeth. And where eyes should have been, there was only skin grown over the eye sockets.

They were completely blind.

There were dozens of them. Perhaps hundreds.

They didn’t walk upright. They crawled on building walls with limbs like spiders, jumping from lamp posts to car roofs without a sound.

And they were all ”staring” toward the Sudrath party.

”Are those...” Riven gripped his axe tightly. ”...Are those humans?”

”Perhaps once,” Rianor whispered, cold sweat the size of corn kernels dripping from his temple. ”Those are The Failed Experiments. Subject Legions that failed to evolve. They aren’t undead. They are... Mutants.”

One of the creatures—larger than the rest—perched on the hood of an old van. It opened its mouth.

No scream came out.

Only a sharp, rapid clicking of its tongue.

Click... Click... Click...

The sound bounced off the building walls, returning to the creature’s ears. Echolocation.

And hundreds of other creatures in the darkness responded.

Click... Click... Click...

The chattering sound filled the dead city like the noise of thousands of hungry insects.

”They’re blind,” Rhea analyzed quickly, her hands already clutching two daggers. ”They use reflected sound to see us.”

”Don’t move,” Rianor whispered, almost inaudibly. ”Your hearts... calm your hearts. They can hear a heartbeat that’s too fast.”

Twenty-five people stood frozen on the asphalt road. Holding their breath. Praying to whatever god would listen.

However, luck was not on their side.

At the back of the line, a young Iron Merc soldier trembled violently from the terror of seeing hundreds of monsters. He took an unconscious step back.

The heel of his iron boot stepped on an ancient soda can lying on the asphalt.

CRUNCH.

The sound of the dented can wasn’t loud. But in the silence of the dead city, it sounded like an atomic bomb explosion.

Instantly, the Clicking stopped.

Silence.

Hundreds of pale heads on buildings, in the streets, and on cars simultaneously snapped toward the source of the sound. Toward the Sudrath party.

The Alpha Mutant atop the van opened its mouth so wide its jaw unhinged.

And a scream that shattered the glass of surrounding buildings echoed.

SCREEEEEEEEECH!

The attack signal.

”RUN!” Riven bellowed, his voice thundering. ”INTO THAT BUILDING! TAKE COVER!”

A tidal wave of pale creatures lunged. They ran on all fours with the speed of cheetahs, flooding the asphalt streets, leaping over cars, and climbing walls, heading toward the fresh prey they had been waiting for for millennia.

The Battle in the Dead City had begun.