Ch. 4
Chapter 4: [Earth-Devouring Worm and Rootrot Sphere]
The ancient temple ruins built of stone and brick were embedded within the rock strata, buried under rubble and sand. Beyond the ruins stretched a maze of tunnels and underground chambers.
Contrary to Samael’s imagination, the depths below were not a dark wasteland, but a thriving underground jungle.
Rocks, soil, glowing fungi, and a variety of bizarre primitive plants grew throughout the tunnels.
Some plants hung with bubble-like, translucent jelly fruits; some mushrooms released puffs of blue spores when touched.
Green fern leaves and fungal fruiting bodies adorned the labyrinthine underground passageways.
The ground was reinforced by some kind of root system, as hard as stone bricks—astonishingly, there were no piles of fallen leaves or rotting plants, making the tunnels remarkably clean.
From Samael’s detector interface, the oxygen content in the air was high, and it carried a fresh scent of moist soil.
Thaleia dragged her hammer-spear, moving silently ahead with a weary and disheartened air.
Meanwhile, Samael, clad in his ghostly armor, was full of curiosity—looking around excitedly, circling Thaleia like a satellite.
Sometimes he poked at plants on the tunnel walls, sometimes he walked backward to inspect the path they had taken, and sometimes he tripped over a rock with a loud clang, only to kick it away before hurrying to catch up again.
Somehow, his antics lightened the heavy atmosphere.
“You’re quite lively, aren’t you?” Thaleia couldn’t help but smile. “What kind of undead creature are you—you’re more energetic than the living.”
“In my original world, I was the sun at eight or nine in the morning! Everything in this otherworld is new to me!” Samael raised both arms, striking the ‘Praise the Sun’ pose from Dark Souls.
He brought his bronze helmet close to the tunnel wall, knocking it with his knuckles. “Were these tunnels made by hand? How many miners would it take to dig out something this massive?”
“The ruins are embedded in the strata—these passages weren’t made by human hands. They’re the tunnels left behind when wild Earth-Devouring Worms burrowed through the layers.” Thaleia explained, “Humans also call them Eyeless Demon Dragons or The Demon King’s Chariots. They are the architects of the underground labyrinths in the wastelands—creatures with drill-shaped jaws as hard as diamonds, spiral-scaled armor, and enormous, muscular bodies. They’re the core and the origin of dungeons and the entire subterranean ecosystem.”
Samael activated his scanner, sweeping it across the striated digging marks on the wall.
[Excavation traces of a drill-type artificial organism] —a virtual UI screen popped up with analysis notes and a holographic image of a colossal beast.
It was a gigantic worm the size of a train—something between the sandworms of Dune and the cyber-mechanical worms of Transformers.
Its body was covered in metallic spiral scales, its head fitted with massive, dragon-tooth-like mandibles that interlocked into a drill shape.
Inside its mouth were countless circular rows of sharp teeth like those of a meat grinder.
[Drill-type Artificial Organism Type I. Grade 6 Technological Organism. Can function as industrial biochemical machinery or excavation bioconstruction units. Used for mining, tunneling, and forming prototype structures for alien underground colonies.]
[Control methods include, but are not limited to: Aether-type psionic signals (i.e., Space Demi-human psionics), and psionic implant modifications.]
“The Demons have special abilities. They can use psionics to command many unintelligent lower species—Earth-Devouring Worms among them.” Thaleia said. “But they’re incredibly strong—it takes great psionic talent and training to control them. I’ve never tried it myself… According to Demon Overlord tradition, the heir is supposed to train an Earth-Devouring Worm during their coming-of-age ceremony to prove their ability. But that year, my parents died… and many things…”
She sighed softly.
“Can you tell me more about the Earth-Devouring Worms? You said they’re the core and beginning of dungeons?” Samael jogged alongside her armor clanking, switching the topic.
“Mm… My father taught me some things. The worm tunnels they create form the prototype of dungeons and labyrinths.” Thaleia recalled, “These underground spaces provide habitats for glowing fungi, enchanted plants, and other organisms. Once a tunnel ecosystem takes shape, it attracts lower lifeforms to inhabit it, and their activities gradually reshape the environment.”
Suddenly, she stopped speaking.
“What’s wrong…” Samael began to ask, but Thaleia abruptly smacked his helmet with her palm.
“Shh.” She motioned for silence, then raised her hammer-spear.
With a whoosh, she swung it at a patch of ferns by the tunnel wall.
Crack!
The hammer’s shockwave tore through the foliage, and something the size of a football flew out—smashed flat against the tunnel wall with a wet splat.
Tiny legs and claws twitched weakly.
“A Rootrot Sphere, a kind of low-level monster. Different plant biomes produce different variants of Rootrot Spheres. This one from the wasteland biome takes a tuber form, so people also call it a Spudling.” Thaleia lifted the creature with her spear tip.
“Rootrot Spheres were among the first creatures drawn to worm tunnels… They’re proliferated plant growths twisted and corrupted by the psionic overflow of the wastelands. After detaching from their parent plants, they scurry around digging holes. They use their roots to absorb and decompose corpses, fallen leaves, and dead fungi in the tunnels. With their excess roots, they reinforce the tunnel walls and dig small channels to divert excess water to lower soil layers—keeping the tunnels clean and relatively comfortable.”
On her spear hung a large, potato-like, withered-yellow lump with tiny sprouting limbs like moldy potato eyes.
It had no eyes, and dirt clung to its skin.
Thaleia’s strike had crushed it open like a watermelon, revealing firm, pale-yellow flesh inside.
“Oh! So that’s why the tunnels are so clean—it’s impressive.” Samael leaned closer and activated his scanner.
[Plant-type Artificial Organism, Wasteland Subspecies. Decomposer. Grade 0 Technological Organism. Functions as cleaner, environmental maintainer, small excavator, and basic laborer. Can craft and use simple tools. Controllable.]
[Control methods include but are not limited to: Aether-type psionic signals, psionic implant modification.]
[Lacks swarm intelligence below population 20. Can perform complex labor above 50.]
[Non-toxic. Edible.]
[Scan complete. Related technology blueprint unlocked. Organism registered.]
[Can be artificially catalyzed and produced—required biological materials: living plants from specific biomes, humus containing fungal colonies.]
[Psionic energy reserve: 5.3 units.]
Thaleia poked the Spudling’s remains for a while, then sighed.
“I’m too hungry… I’ll eat this first.” she said tiredly. “Father’s dungeon had many of these things running around—they acted as little porters and miners, digging and carrying. Father said they were edible, but I never tried them… he spoiled me too much. Back then, eating something like this was unimaginable, but now…”
She waved her hand, conjuring a pale flame, and roasted the Spudling over it.
The pale-yellow flesh released a roasted aroma, turning golden with a few charred spots.
Under the heat, it split open into soft, crisp chunks, filling the air with the warm, starchy scent of baked tuber.
Thaleia removed her horned helmet, set it aside, and sat cross-legged to rest. She popped a roasted chunk into her mouth and chewed.
“Is it good?” Samael crouched beside her in a perfect frog squat, staring expectantly.
“I w-wouldn’t say it’s good,” Thaleia mumbled through a mouthful of Spudling, “but… it’s not too bad either.”
Though Samael was merely a suit of possessed armor, the hungry longing glowing from the darkness of his visor made Thaleia feel awkward.
She broke off a piece and offered it to him.
“Do you… want to try?” she asked after swallowing her bite.
“Oh oh oh! Thank you, foster father! Brom wandered half his life without a worthy lord—if you don’t despise me, let me serve as your adopted son!” Samael exclaimed, eagerly snatching the Spudling chunk and stuffing it into the slit of his helmet.
With a clatter, the potato piece fell out intact from a gap beneath his breastplate.
“……” Thaleia fell silent, struggling not to laugh.
“Why… why…” Samael choked, dropping to his knees, clutching the potato fragment in both hands, and howled at the ceiling. “I want to eat too! Why can’t I! No! My sun… my sun has set!”