Published at 13th of June 2026 7:06 am

Chapter 1799 Mark of the Underworld

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Adam stood before the Death Gates carved into the side of the gigantic mountain.

The colossal gates towered so high that they vanished into the dark clouds above, their ancient black surface covered in enormous runes and endless scars left behind by the ravages of time. Compared to them, Adam felt no larger than an insect standing at the foot of the mountain.

Countless figures moved around the entrance. Pale souls, undead creatures, and strange beings from the Underworld endlessly passed through the massive gates.

But as Adam continued watching them, a puzzled look slowly appeared on his face.

The figures were not entering the gates…

They were coming out of them.

An endless stream of souls and undead emerged from the darkness beyond the Death Gates and walked deeper into the Underworld instead. No one seemed to go the other way.

The sight felt completely wrong from what Adam knew. Weren't the dead supposed to enter the realm of the dead through those gates?

Either his sense of direction had turned utterly chaotic, or…

He looked at the tall lich's broad back and said in a trembling voice, "Don't tell me…"

A wild thought emerged in his mind.

"Are you…" He gulped in disbelief. "Are you leading me out of the Underworld?!"

Adam wanted nothing more than to leave this place and return home.

"Are you…" He gulped in disbelief. "Are you leading me out of the Underworld?!"

Adam wanted nothing more than to leave this place and return home.

But based on everything he knew, leaving the Underworld was impossible. Should have been impossible...

So what was happening?

Why was this mysterious lich leading him toward the gates instead of deeper into the realm of the dead?

The more Adam thought about it, the less he understood.

Listening to his question, the lich turned ever so slightly, his movements slow as ever. Then he said in an even voice:

"You do not belong here."

Adam was at a loss for words. Before he could press for more answers, the lich raised a hand and pointed a bony finger toward him.

The movement looked lazy and unhurried, yet strangely and incongruously, it was far too fast for Adam to react to.

A tiny orb of mana shot from the tip of his finger and silently slammed into Adam's chest.

The youth's expression instantly paled. He staggered backward before falling on the ground. "What… what have you done?!"

The lich did not bother to reply to that question.

Instead, he turned around and pointed to the Death Gates.

"Go," he said succinctly.

The more Adam listened to this being speak, the more flabbergasted he became. He just couldn't understand the man's motive. One moment, the lich was sneaking up on him and scaring the living daylights out of him; the next moment, he was ferrying him across the Screaming River. One moment, he was hurling strange spells at him. And the next, he was telling him to leave.

Just what was going on?

Adam's expression changed several times in a matter of seconds. He rose to his feet and cautiously stood beside the tall lich. "My Lord," he said respectfully. "Please, tell me… what have you done to me?"

The lich turned to him. Adam could have sworn he'd seen the flames in the lich's sockets roll upward.

He sighed lazily, then said, "The guardians won't stop you when they see you leaving."

Adam's eyes widened slightly.

Almost instantly, he understood what the spell from earlier had been for.

It was most likely some kind of mark meant to inform the guardians — whoever they were — that Adam was under the protection of this mysterious lich, and that he had permission to leave the Underworld!

At once, countless questions flooded Adam's mind.

Just who was the lich to possess such authority in the Underworld? And more importantly, why was he helping him?

None of it made sense.

From the moment they met, the lich had acted however he pleased, as though the horrors of the Underworld bent around his will. The dead feared him. Even the guardians would apparently allow him to pass simply because of a simple spell cast by the man.

The more Adam thought about it, the more unsettling the lich became.

But this was not the time to ask questions. In fact, he didn't have much time to begin with. He needed to return to Tron. He needed to fight the despicable Cult Leader.

He didn't know why the mysterious lich had helped him out. There was most definitely a reason behind it. But now was not the time to ponder.

Adam placed a hand on his chest and bowed in gratitude. "I will always remember this favor. Thank you… truly, thank you."

With that said, the youth turned around and bolted toward the Death Gates.

Perhaps the lich was moved by Adam's sincerity, or perhaps it was something else entirely, but after a few moments of silence, he suddenly called out to the youth.

"Boy."

Adam came to an abrupt halt. Surrounded by undead who seemed to completely ignore him, he turned around and cautiously stared at the lich. "Yes... my lord?" he asked.

The lich languidly stared at the youth, and then casually said:

"This realm will leave a mark upon you. Few in this universe have entered Her divine kingdom while still drawing breath. Fewer still have left it alive. From this day onward, the mark of the Underworld shall remain upon you forever. You will be wise not to linger too long upon the Road of the Dead."

Adam's expression turned utterly grim. He couldn't help but ask, "This mark… will it kill me?"

"Not unless you die," the lich answered calmly.

With that said, he turned around and slowly walked deeper into the Underworld.

Adam stood there in silence, once again left dumbfounded by the lich's strange answer.

In the end, he quietly muttered a word of thanks toward the mysterious figure who had helped him. Then he turned around and ran toward the Death Gates.

He rushed frantically through the endless procession of dead figures, pushing past wandering souls and silent undead. The closer he got, the heavier the air became, filled with an ancient aura of death that pressed down on him from all directions.

And then… he crossed the giant gates.

At that exact moment, a single strand of his raven-black hair lost color, turning white. But Adam did not notice it. He continued running. He was frightened. He was nervous. But he kept running.

His footsteps echoed loudly as he raced through the vast, cavernous system deep within the mountain. Ancient tunnels stretched endlessly ahead, illuminated by dim flames burning along the walls.

The deeper he went, the more countless carvings and faded runes appeared around him.

Then suddenly, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

It was a mural.

Adam instinctively slowed down, his gaze locked onto the enormous carving etched into the stone wall beside him.

The mural was ancient beyond belief.

At its center sat a feminine figure upon a throne made of bones. Though her face had faded away with time, she still radiated an unmistakable aura of nobility and death.

At the base of the throne stood two lichs like loyal attendants.

And one of them…

Adam's eyes slowly widened.

One of them had a black mark running vertically across the left side of its skull.

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