The impacts beneath the altar grew denser and denser, as if some colossal creature were smashing its way up from the depths underground. Chen Wuya shoved Bai Zhi aside, staggering back several steps himself. The wound on his right arm tore open again from the violent movement, blood dripping from his fingertips onto the ground.
"Go!" he snarled, then spun around and charged into the narrow fissure behind the altar.
The others followed close behind, their footsteps chaotic, yet none dared hesitate. They had barely run a dozen paces when a thunderous explosion erupted behind them. A tremendous force overturned the entire altar, sending shattered stones flying like rain as dust and smoke instantly swallowed the square. The lone stone pillar snapped and crashed down where it stood with a dull boom.
A cold gleam suddenly lit up the passage ahead.
A circular array made of dozens of spinning blades stretched across the center of the passage. Their edges interlocked, producing a shrill metallic screech. The air reeked of rust and tar. Clearly, this mechanism had lain dormant for years, only to be reactivated now by some unknown force.
"Don't stop!" Chen Wuya raised a hand to halt the group. "Watch the gaps between the blades! They aren't spinning in sync!"
He narrowed his eyes at the blade array's movements. The Misaligned Practice Connects to Spirit System trembled faintly within his sea of consciousness—not in warning, but in a strange resonance—as though the rhythm of those blades was answering the chaotic frequency of the Misaligned Force within him.
When the blades crossed for the third time, a brief gap appeared on the left, just wide enough for one person to slip through sideways.
"Three steps, then pause!" he shouted. "Misalignment jump! Left first, then right—don't move in a straight line!"