Two torches had been thrust into the rock wall. Their flames swayed, casting the cave, which covered over a hundred square meters, into dim and eerie shadow.
This was not the cave Old Alec had discovered back then. The craftsmen had found it by following a crack while quarrying the stone.
At that moment, in the center of the cave, a peculiar altar stood assembled from three hundred and twenty fist-sized stones, one hundred and eighty clumps of wild grass, ninety-nine branches, and thirty bowls of spring water.
But rather than an altar, it was more like a pattern—a pattern resembling a giant dragon lying on its side.
If someone could look down upon the entire Nudal Ridge from the sky, they would be astonished to discover that the ridge's shape was ninety-nine percent similar to the pattern Zhang Yang had laid out.
That was precisely the significance of this altar.
Through the extreme similarity of their shapes, the altar drew the radiation curves emitted by Nudal Ridge onto the same channel as its own curves, then initiated resonance.
Thus, the altar had effectively established spiritual contact. It had succeeded.
"Sit down."
Zhang Yang pointed to a spot. "Bob, from here on, don't think about anything, and don't worry about anything either. Just treat it as having a dream."
"Yes, Captain."
Bob was very calm. Over the past few days, he had consumed a full eight Pseudo-Dragon Tears and gained unimaginable power. He had long since grown accustomed to all this mystery, and would certainly not reject it.
Zhang Yang waited patiently. Only after confirming that Bob's heart had truly quieted did he release threads of his soul, slowly capturing the radiation curves emitted by Nudal Ridge and connecting them, one by one, to the altar here.
Even though Zhang