Chapter 70
Han Fei nodded, steadily lifting the massive riot shield like a moving steel fortress.
"Stay close to me."
His voice sounded unusually heavy amidst the rain and the scraping of metal.
Andoain twitched his fingertips slightly, and a soft but unusually thin white light shone from his palm, barely dispelling the thick darkness within a few steps of the cave entrance.
This light, instead of bringing warmth, appeared exceptionally fragile and isolated against the backdrop of jagged rocks and bottomless darkness.
The three formed a tight formation, with Han Fei holding his shield in front, and stepped into the darkness that swallowed the light.
The cave entrance led downwards, and cold water droplets seeped continuously from the slippery stone walls, dripping onto the helmet and shoulder armor with a monotonous and irritating "drip... drip..." sound.
After walking only a few dozen steps, the terrain suddenly flattened out, and the entrance to an underground palace, constructed of huge, rough stones, appeared prominently at the edge of the pale light source.
The entrance was badly damaged, like the decaying throat of some giant beast, exuding an unsettling sense of antiquity and death.
Han Fei wasn't a native of Terra and genuinely didn't recognize where he was. He instinctively looked at Andoain, hoping the latter could enlighten him.
Andoain frowned, carefully examining the ruins-like entrance in the dim light. He said, "This looks like some kind of ruin. I don't know who left it here, but we'd better be careful."
I understand what you mean.
Han Fei responded briefly, his shield once again held high in front of him. His combat boots pounded on the cold, wet ground, each step producing a heavy, dragging "clang... crack... clang... crack..." sound amplified in the absolute silence, as if striking the taut nerves of everyone present.
As they went deeper, the invisible sense of oppression suddenly intensified, like a cold, viscous liquid squeezing in from all directions, making their breathing unconsciously shallow.
The interior of the ruins was eerily silent; apart from the sound of dripping water and the incredibly piercing noise created by Han Fei himself, there was no other sign of life.
Andoain's white light relentlessly cut through the darkness, illuminating the incomplete, distorted ancient sculpture.
The stone statues cast huge, ferocious, and constantly swaying shadows under the flickering light, like monsters lurking on the stone wall, ready to pounce at any moment. The mottled etchings on the smooth stone wall resemble writhing veins under the light and shadow.
"Are there really any living people in this godforsaken place...?"
Han Fei couldn't help but mutter under his breath. His voice suddenly exploded in the deathly silence, crashing against the cold stone wall and stirring up layers of hollow and eerie echoes, which only made the silence seem heavier and more malicious.
He didn't care about being exposed. With the Shield Dog activated, it made a lot of noise as it walked, making it impossible to sneak in. It was so loud that unless the other side was deaf, it would have been exposed long ago.
Conversely, if the other person is truly deaf, then it doesn't matter if they speak.
"I have no idea."
Andoain's voice was heavy. His light source tried its best to expand its range, but it could only illuminate a limited space. Deeper into the space, there was still an all-consuming darkness.
The illuminated stone statues with broken arms and severed bodies seemed to stare intently at the intruder through their empty eye sockets, piercing through the halo of light.
"I don't really like this place."
Han Fei looked at the distorted shadows, his brows furrowing. He said, "This place is too oppressive."
His gaze swept over the distorted shadows, sensing that an invisible gaze lurked within each shadow.
He doesn't like playing hide-and-seek with people; the thrill of battle is a man's romance.
The atmosphere was so oppressive that Han Fei couldn't hold back any longer and said to the two people behind him, "Since they won't come out, I'm going to have to call them out."
Andoain was taken aback at first, then chuckled and said, "Go ahead and shout."
There's no real concern about being exposed; if shouting can lure the enemy out, that's better than being tortured in this deathly silence.
Han Fei took a deep breath, the sound clearly audible in the deathly silence. The next second, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Hey, is anyone there?!"
The booming roar, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, crashed, echoed, and amplified wildly in the narrow passageways and empty halls.
"Is anyone there... is anyone there...?"
The sound lingered for a long time, as if countless Han Fei were shouting simultaneously in the darkness.
The echoes surged in like a tidal wave, then gradually subsided like the receding tide...
Dead silence.
A deeper, thicker, and more suffocating silence enveloped everything once more.
Only the sound of dripping water continued, steadily tapping the ground.
Tap... tap... tap...
It was as if they were counting down something.
"That's a ghost!"
Han Fei clicked his tongue, thinking to himself, "Is there really no one alive in this godforsaken place?"
In the instant the thought flashed through his mind!
A faint whisper, as if filtered through thick darkness, drifted out without warning from some corner deep within the ruins.
The voice was indistinct and fragmented, like a dream or the ravings of a dying person, making it impossible to discern any meaning. But to the three who had endured the torment of a long, deathly silence, this ghostly murmur was nothing short of a thunderclap!
For Han Fei, this is undoubtedly a good thing.
At least, there's someone still alive.
So he said, "Shall we go over and take a look?"
Andoain and Lemuen nodded silently, their expressions growing even more solemn. The light source moved with their cautious steps, casting even more eerie and swaying shadows on the distorted statues and mottled walls.
The three followed the intermittent whispers, which seemed as fragile as spider silk, and groped their way forward for about twenty steps through the labyrinthine ruins.
Suddenly, a heavy, dust-covered stone door, half-open, appeared at the edge of the pale light. The chilling, murmured voice seeped out from the crack in the door with unmistakable clarity, as if it were a tangible substance.
Han Fei took a deep breath, pressed his metal gloves against the cold stone door, and pushed hard—
"Creak--!"
A piercing scraping sound tore through the deathly silence of the passage. The door swung open, and a strange stench, a mixture of musty dust, faint candle smoke, and a heavy, pungent smell of blood, rushed out!
The scene inside the door instantly captured the attention of the three of them.
A solitary, tiny oil lamp sat on a stone table in the corner, its dim, flickering flame the only source of light in the secret room, casting everything into a sickly, swaying shadow.
On the ground, several figures dressed in tattered black robes lay sprawled, motionless, like discarded rag dolls.
In the shadows of the dusty walls on both sides, one can vaguely see more skeletons, their postures twisted, as if silently telling of ancient horrors.
In the very center of the secret chamber, with his back to the door, sat a Sarkaz figure, also shrouded in a wide hood.
A chilling, indescribable murmur emanated continuously from beneath the hood, like a curse.
"I'll go in and take a look."
Han Fei slowly stepped into the secret room; his footsteps were so heavy that they could not be concealed.
However, the Sarkaz under the hood seemed deaf, showing no reaction whatsoever to the sudden appearance of the large footsteps.
Andoain and Lemuen then followed them into the secret chamber.
Han Fei didn't rush over to check on the hooded Sarkaz. He first examined the people lying on the ground, then frowned and said, "They're all dead."
But Andoain's gaze was already fixed on the crazed Sarkaz. He walked up behind the man, pressed the gun firmly against the back of his head, and said, "Who are you?"
The hooded Sarkaz remained motionless, seemingly uninterested in answering Andoain's question, his head still bowed, muttering softly.
It was only then that Andoain finally understood what the man was saying.
It turns out that this guy was talking to his own shadow by the light of the candle.
Andoain frowned and said softly, "Madman."
To everyone's surprise, Sarkaz reacted to these words. He abruptly raised his head, revealing a withered, aged face, and stared intently at Andoain, saying, "I am not a madman, I am a prophet. I know all the secrets of the world, including the path you seek!"
The next second, he suddenly stretched out a pair of withered, claw-like hands and reached for Andoain, seemingly trying to grab Andoain and sell him his crazy theories.
This was undoubtedly an attack, Andoain pulled the trigger without hesitation.
"Bang--!"
The gunshot ripped through the deathly silence; a bullet pierced a skull, and blood splattered onto the ancient carvings of the stone platform. Sarkaz collapsed to the ground, the object he was clutching falling from his arms.
They were a pair of perfectly intact, brand-new staffs.
One staff was as black as the eternal night, the other as white as the Pramanix. The staffs shimmered with an eerie light, completely out of place with the ruins' decay and decay, as if they had just been taken from an altar.
Why would he have such a thing?
This doubt then began to grow in Andoain's mind, along with the murmur he had just uttered, which also sprouted in his heart.
Do you really know what lies ahead of me?
Andoain, as if possessed, reached out his hand towards the pair of staffs.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. By the time Han Fei turned around after hearing the gunshot, Andoain's hand had already touched the staff.
--Black Lock and White Key.
"Holy crap, Andoain, don't touch him!"
Han Fei's shout suddenly rang out, and the familiar staff immediately reminded him of unpleasant memories.
He instinctively lunged forward, attempting to snatch back the Black Lock and White Key.
But it was too late.
Andoain's hands were already gripping the staffs.
"Buzz--!!"
With a strange sound, a needle-like, pale light suddenly burst forth from between Andoain's fingers as he gripped his staff.
Volume 1: Chapter 103 The Protection of Angels
The moment the white light flashed, Han Fei realized—it was too late!
As Han Fei watched the staff about to be swallowed by the white light, only one thought occupied his mind.
Damn it, Andoain, why are you moving so fast?!
One second he was examining the corpse on the ground, the next he looked up and Andoain had already grasped the lock and key.
That's too fast!
Just as Han Fei drew his gun from his side, his vision exploded into a blinding white blur.
An untimely thought flashed through his mind—whose Mai Xiaowen is this?
White, just white, you can't see Andoain at all.
Han Fei could only rely on his last remaining memory of the location and randomly pull the trigger!
Bang bang bang!
The muzzle flash leaped futilely in the sea of light.
Missed!
Han Fei was instantly dumbfounded; he was a pure green-hearted guy.
No hooks, no frames, no stick figure outline indicators—you think you can hit your target while under a blinding white flash? Dream on!
Put your gun away!
Thought and action erupted simultaneously; Han Fei suddenly spun around and crashed towards Lemuen's direction!
The giant shield crashed down, instantly separating Lemuen from the destructive white light.
Looking at that familiar, broad back that was blocking her way, a feeling of immense relief mixed with a heart-wrenching worry welled up in Lemuen's heart.
"Hide behind me."
Before she could finish speaking, a dazzling white light completely engulfed Han Fei's figure in her vision, along with her own consciousness.
Boom!!!
The rampaging Originium Arts completely engulfed the entire secret chamber.
In that hazy white light, Han Fei gritted his teeth, Golden Rose in his hand bloomed.
"Let go of me!"
Against the light, Han Fei charged forward relentlessly.
Bang!
The heavy metal shield slammed into Andoain's body, but the deadly Originium Arts did not stop; the two-colored staff called Lock and Key was still firmly gripped in his hand.
11, this is Han Fei's current health.