182. Before the Altar

"Behind you"

Lu Ban immediately patted Xiya on the shoulder.

Xiya immediately turned around and assumed a defensive posture, but soon her expression turned blank again.

What is it?

Xiya asked, seemingly unable to see the person, and was very confused, unable to focus her eyes on them.

"Didn't you see it?"

Lu Ban asked, cautiously looking in the direction of the person. The person with dark eyes and long hair, wearing a white robe, was in the same posture as Xiya, staring blankly.

Xiya sensed something was wrong and immediately snapped her fingers.

The ripples of the Detection Spell spread out, but the feedback from the magic revealed nothing unusual in the surroundings.

"What do you see? My Detection Spell didn't tell me anything."

Xiya began to feel uneasy.

If Lu Ban wasn't lying, then it meant that there really was something in front of him.

However, his Detection Spell did not react at all.

Generally, there are two possibilities when Detection Spell does not react: one is that there is indeed nothing there, and the other is that the other party possesses power far exceeding that of the caster, so the caster cannot detect it.

"Right there?"

Just as Lu Ban was about to point out the other person's presence, he saw that the guy had disappeared again.

"Are they the Saint's Remains?"

"Xiya asked."

Lu Ban's strange behavior just now seems to be related to the person he mentioned who appeared in the ruins. If it really is the Saint's Remains, then it is understandable that he could evade Xiya's Detection Spell.

After all, he is a being at the pinnacle of extraordinary power in this world, while Xiya is merely a Aspirant Agent and does not yet have the qualifications to act independently.

"I think it should be."

Lu Ban nodded.

He didn't understand why only he could see that thing. This was Lu Ban's first time in the wasteland, and he shouldn't have any connection with the things here. So, could it be the effect of the [True Sight]? Because Lu Ban had a deeper understanding of the wasteland, he was able to see things that he shouldn't have been able to see?

"I feel something is not right. We should talk to other people."

He looked toward the center of the city.

In the city center, in a circular plaza, in front of the altar.

"Iron Fist" stood here, looking at the altar whose side was weathered and mottled, and whose inscriptions were no longer legible.

"Is this the Nameless City?"

He reached out, and his hand, covered in shimmering crystals, was no longer human-shaped, but more like the limbs of some insect. His Iron Fist muttered to itself.

Beside him, a man whose face was half covered by crystal cores stepped forward and spoke.

"According to the map, this should be the place. As long as we can find the treasure here, rebuilding a city-state should not be a problem. At that time, you can also become a saint and rule this wasteland."

"I don't have such extravagant wishes; I only hope that a way to save my city-state can be found here."

Iron Fist took out the map and carefully checked it.

If Giant Arm were here, he would quickly recognize that Iron Fist's map was far more detailed than his own, including not only the specific coordinates of the stars and the sun, but also some ancient script from the wasteland.

These ancient scripts are neither the scripts of a civilization that existed before the spread of Crystal Core Disease, nor are they modern scripts. Rather, they are remnants of a civilization that briefly emerged on the wasteland, existing somewhere in between.

After the Crystal Core Disease spread and the world was on the verge of extinction, the land was not actually as desolate as it is now. The surviving humans had once built a civilization, but later, for some unknown reason, the civilization was destroyed, and the land became this wasteland.

To many, it was just a legend, nonsense to deceive novice Wasteland Hunter. But Iron Fist knew that after so many years of searching, he was certain that the civilization existed.

It was the remnants of that civilization that gave rise to saints in the world. The Oldest One thirteen saints were the hope for the survival of mankind and the victory over the Crystal Core Disease. And finding the remains of these original saints was the path to salvation that Iron Fist firmly believed in.

"This place was once a prosperous city-state, far surpassing Athens in scale and splendor, but for unknown reasons, it was destroyed."

Iron Fist read the text on the map and looked towards the altar.

"The Saint's Remains here are nowhere to be found; perhaps they are underground."

Iron Fist had seen such altars in other ruins before. It was one of the characteristics of that civilization: a huge circular city square and altar, where tens of thousands of people would gather to watch some grand sacrificial ceremony. Just imagining it was an extremely magnificent sight.

Beneath the altar lay an extremely complex network of mechanisms and passages. No one knew why these mechanisms and passages were built, but Iron Fist could vaguely guess from their shape and structure that they might be for imprisoning or confining something.

"Start it up."

Iron Fist said something.

Immediately, the people next to him took out two leather water bags, unscrewed the caps, and poured out the liquid inside.

That was warm blood, from humankind.

The blood flowed onto the altar, and over its uneven surface, it formed a complex pattern.

The pattern resembled stars, the universe, the sky, and the earth.

The blood continued to flow downwards, into the end of the altar, and into the interior of the altar.

Boom—

A rumbling sound could be heard rising from the ground, and the earth beneath Iron Fist's feet trembled, as if a small earthquake had occurred.

In an instant, under the night sky, the lurking monsters stirred, drawn by the movement, and peered into the city center.

Iron Fist and the others saw the entire plaza begin to shake.

These destroyed buildings seemed to come alive at that moment. In the center of the wide square, the altar slowly sank, revealing a passage leading to the underground.

A gust of decaying wind blew by, causing Iron Fist to frown slightly.

"It looks deep down here, give me a torch."

Iron Fist took the torch handed to him by someone next to him and threw it down.

Clang—

After a while, the torch fell to the ground and illuminated the surroundings, which appeared to be a large hall.

Iron Fist glanced at the person next to him.

"The scouts should go ahead and explore the area. If they encounter any problems, they should return immediately."

He ordered the man next to him, whose face was half crystallized, to call over two agile scouts. They pulled on the rope, slid down, and picked up torches to illuminate the surroundings.

Just then, Iron Fist suddenly felt that someone was watching him.

He stood up and turned around, only to see a person dressed in white gazing at him from the highest point of the stands in the square.

He was about to send someone to check when Iron Fist discovered that the other party had vanished in Kung Fu blink of an eye.

"There's a door here, boss, a door."

At that moment, the voice of a scout came from underground.

*

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