Chapter 971: Battle for the High Tower (Part Five)

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When Batman woke up again, he found himself surrounded by dim light. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his palm, which still bore scratches and gravel marks.

He remembered seeing Schiller being swallowed by a huge sandworm. Batman then jumped onto the sandworm's back, grabbed its overhead horn, punched its eye, and caused it pain, forcing it to burrow underground.

The sandworm navigated through underground passages, which had been pre-existing, and its massive body left enough gaps at the edges for Batman to hold on. However, the swift journey through narrow crevices left Batman with numerous scrapes. Finally, when the sandworm resurfaced, a hard layer of soil knocked Batman unconscious.

As Batman recalled these events, he struggled to open his eyes. He saw dimly lit torches hanging on the wall in front of him, with moss filling the cracks in the worn-out bricks. The cold ground bore water stains.

As he tried to sit up, he heard a familiar voice behind him. "You're awake. How do you feel?" Batman turned to see Schiller standing behind him. Squinting, Batman asked, "Are you okay?"

"Of course, I am. When that sandworm bit me, I realized it wasn't exerting much force. There were gaps between its teeth, as if it didn't intend to eat me. That's why I didn't dodge," Schiller shook his head, looking at Batman.

"I've said it before. You'd better regain your senses quickly and stop dwelling on those traumatic memories. I'm not a weak and innocent victim needing your rescue..."

"So, where are we now?" Batman asked hoarsely. Schiller shook his head, saying, "I don't know."

He then glanced around the room. It was a typical dungeon with three walls made of dark stone bricks and an iron grille facing them. A small door hung with a large lock was attached to the grille.

On the inner walls, two torches provided dim illumination. Two straw mats lay on the ground, beneath which seemed to be traces of blood.

Observing Batman's complexion, Schiller shook his head. "Alright, I'll take over this time, considering your mental state."

He knelt down, feeling the edge of the straw mat. "These are vines from hell, processed into mats. Judging by the vegetation we encountered on the hill, we're likely far from our initial landing point."

"The mat is about two meters long, but remember, this is hell. The demons held here were probably small in size, unlike the ones we encountered on the battlefield."

Schiller lifted the mat, inspecting the bloodstains underneath. "Judging by the flow of blood, if a humanoid creature was lying here, the blood came from wounds on its back, seeping through and staining the ground."

Taking a deep breath, Schiller coughed twice. Batman finally began to focus a bit more. He glanced at the discarded mat and remarked, "There seem to be organic tissues from unidentified creatures between the crevices. It looks like remnants of wounds."

He then crouched down, examining the bloodstains on the mat. "These look like whip scars. When lying on the mat, the wounds reopened due to movement, causing fresh blood to seep onto the ground."

"So, we can conclude this is a prison cell, and it once held a tortured small demon," Schiller continued.

"Listen, Batman, you must realize the situation isn't optimistic. Before you altruistically save those petty traits of other people's personalities, shouldn't you figure out a way to rescue both of us first?"

Without lifting his head, Batman replied, "The accumulation of blood here suggests he lost mobility. Moreover, the drag marks on the ground indicate this demon was dragged out..."

"This indicates it's not an unsupervised prison. There must be jailers here, and the sandworm might be their means of capture. The slaves captured are likely confined here."

"The drag marks suggest the demon dragged wasn't much larger than the one we see here. Otherwise, there wouldn't be marks on the ground..."

"The jailers probably have the keys. If we can subdue them first, we can..."

As Batman spoke, he glanced at Schiller, who had found a wall to lean against and sat down, allowing the moss to smear on his suit.

Noticing Schiller's irregular breathing, Batman asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"Allergic reaction, don't mind me, continue," Schiller said, taking deep breaths. Batman narrowed his eyes, saying, "Whether it's psychological stimulation or physiological allergies, after removing the allergen, the reaction shouldn't be this intense."

Batman indeed wondered what was causing Schiller's allergic reaction. While being trapped in a city filled with broccoli might have made him weak before, they were now in hell. It puzzled Batman that Schiller still showed such a strong reaction despite being away from the allergen for so long.

Schiller kept his head low, so Batman couldn't see his expression. Just as he was about to inquire further, a series of footsteps approached from the doorway. Batman immediately whispered to Schiller, "Stay here and don't move. Attract his attention."

With that, he used the corner of the adjacent wall to jump onto the protruding doorframe, positioning himself out of sight as the door swung open.

After a while, a demon with dark green skin and two long fangs opened the cell door. As Batman and Schiller had anticipated, this demon stood over two meters tall with large feet and long arms, resembling a gorilla.

He pushed the door open, puzzled by the absence of another prisoner. But as he stepped into the cell, a shadow fell upon him from behind.

Batman reached out, grabbing the demon's neck tightly, and then used the sharp edge of his gauntlet to sever its throat.

The splatter of blood made Batman grimace. Schiller, sitting where he was, seemed to have improved slightly. He coughed twice and said, "Are you wondering why demons from hell can be killed by throat-slitting?"

"Cough, everything in this world is created by God. God's creative process is always consistent, and aesthetics don't change much. Therefore, whether it's heaven, hell, or the human world, the characteristics, forms, and abilities of creatures are not much different."

"The operating rules of hell, heaven, and the human world are also basically the same. Different races, different forms, always the same internal struggles and competitions. In some ways, hell is even better than the human world."

Batman glanced at the corpse of the jailer, then retrieved the keys from his waist. He approached the cell door and looked outside before saying, "I didn't hear any patrol footsteps. We should be able to leave here."

"You can go out first, but I have to stay here for a while," Schiller said, still keeping his head down.

"What's wrong with you?" Batman stared at Schiller. "This doesn't seem like the side effects of an allergic reaction."

Schiller's shoulders trembled slightly, but it wasn't due to weakness or cold. He kept his head down, shadow covering his expression. However, upon closer inspection, beneath the shadow, his lips were curved upwards.

As Batman left the cell, Schiller muttered to himself amidst his breaths, "He's always like this, isn't he? No, you can't deny the results of my education. We both know what he was supposed to become..."

Schiller's shoulders trembled again, but it wasn't from weakness or cold. He continued to keep his head down, the shadow masking his expression. Yet, if one looked closely, beneath the shadow, his lips were lifted in a smile.

Meanwhile, outside the cell, Batman navigated through the narrow prison corridor and arrived at the surface. Standing in the shadow at the door, Batman observed their surroundings. He realized they were in a mine, with various demons moving between the mining areas.

There were overseers in uniforms and slaves wearing shackles, bearing scars. The underground prison where Batman was held was situated behind one of the mine's hills, obscuring the view of the entire mine.

Batman observed the guard's patrol routes. The guards here were clearly not professionals; their patrols were just for show. The guard teams of five were scattered, and they were all distracted.

Thus, Batman easily bypassed the guards and reached the other side of the mine. He climbed halfway up the hill using the wooden frames supporting the mining machinery.

Then, he ascended to the mountaintop via the mine elevator. From there, he could see the entire structure of the mine. There were three large mines and five small ones, with mining machines dotting the skyline.

The demons mining here belonged to different species, some green-skinned, some red-skinned, some with two legs and two hands, while others resembled oversized fleas.

Most noticeable was a mine door constructed from hundreds of round logs. Inscribed on it were hellish characters that Batman couldn't recognize, but they resembled Latin letters phonetically reading "Tonstonmine."

Batman mentally mapped out the mine's layout and devised the safest escape route. It wasn't difficult, as most of the demon guards were neglectful. Their patrols were even less stringent than those of the gangs in Gotham's northern district manors.

Seeing the huge sandworms crawling in the sand of the mine, Batman realized they were likely the means of capturing slaves. The mine's owner controlled these sandworms, which roamed the sands of hell, snatching lone demons and bringing them back to the mine to become laborers.

These massive sandworms were powerful and fast. If they couldn't be dealt with, even if they managed to escape, they could easily be captured again.

As Batman pondered how to deal with them, he suddenly saw a very familiar figure among the mining slave teams. He exclaimed in shock, "Alfred?!"

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 972: The Battle for High Tower (Part Six)