Miya's Whereabouts

This was the first time Fang Heng had clearly seen the full form of this colossal thing. It stood as tall as a mountain range, resembling a gigantic deep-sea octopus, silently sunken at the bottom of the pit. Its trunk leaned against the rock wall, its oval head level with the cliff.

Layer upon layer of copper-plated armor covered its body, reflecting faint gleams in the dim light. Thick and imposing, its raised scales were covered in mud, overgrown with shrubs and lichen like terraced gardens. Its enormous eye sockets lay where its torso connected to its tentacles, slightly turned outward. Beneath the moss covering them, the eyes had long since lost their luster, leaving only two pitch-black hollows like towering caves.

The sky gradually brightened, blue and purple stained with the glow of dawn. Morning light spilled across its golden shell, casting bright violet and pink radiance with a faint halo. Several redstarts flew over and landed in the forest atop its head, and clear birdsong immediately rang out from the bottom of the pit.

Only then did Fang Heng realize that this enormous creature seemed to have fallen asleep. The ends of its twelve tentacles were those hideous giant worms, and the four pairs of dark-red eyes atop their heads had lost their glow as well. They sprawled across the pit floor in every direction, utterly motionless.

He stood where he was and observed cautiously for quite a while before finally confirming that it had stopped moving. He did not know whether daylight had calmed the creature or whether there was some other reason.

Fang Heng grew bolder. Temporarily putting Miya and the dagger out of his mind, he looked around and discovered that he had landed on a platform, with the ruins of layer upon layer of buildings below. He went to the edge and looked down again—it was not terribly steep.

Only then did he grip the edge and slowly climb down. With no one there to help him, it was truly strenuous, and he could not help missing his days with the adventurer group. Thinking of that, he spent several laborious minutes climbing down to the pit floor. The light down there was still dim, and the air was thick with the raw scent of earth and moss.

He looked north. Lake water poured down from the cliff like a curtain, still splashing noisily below. In the rising sun, the mist glittered, and a rainbow hung faintly within it. A pool had already formed beneath the waterfall. Fang Heng's mouth was dry and his throat felt as if it were on fire, so he hurried over, bent down at the edge of the pool, and scooped up a large mouthful of water.

The sensation of icy water soaking into him seemed to open every pore in his body. He shuddered all over, as if he had come back to life, and could not help letting out a long, satisfied breath.

But Fang Heng forced himself not to drink too much.

This place was thousands of miles from Kapuka, and his usual medicine had been left in his backpack. If he caught some sudden illness here, he would be in for a miserable time. If he carelessly lost his life, that would be even more ridiculous.

His stomach was growling as well, and it seemed he had little strength left. Fortunately, he had always made preparations in advance. There were still a few biscuits stuffed in his trouser pocket, but these were his last food reserves. Even if he somehow escaped this place, he had no idea how he would trek on foot out of the vast Ancient Tree Sea.

Still, he was not too worried. He was used to taking one step at a time.

Fang Heng bit off half a biscuit, chewed it, and swallowed. At least it fooled his stomach a little. Then he raised his head and examined the motionless giant creature.

He had already looked around. There was no path from the bottom of the pit back to the surface, so the only option was to find a way to climb onto this thing's head.

He knew that large constructed creatures like this usually had emergency passages inside for artisans to conduct maintenance. He did not know whether ancient alchemists had shared that habit. If they had not—

That would be seriously screwed up.

Fang Heng walked around nearly half of the small mountain-like constructed cephalopod before finally finding an entrance at its base. He moved toward it, but the impact from the giant creature's fall had liquefied the soil beneath it, turning the ground into a muddy mess that made every step difficult.

Water still bubbled up in some places, rippling from north to south, which meant the terrain was lower in that direction. A cephalopod's beak was usually located beneath its body, where its tentacles met its trunk, and the entrance was there as well. As for those tentacles, Fang Heng carefully walked past the sleeping Constructed Giant Worms.

At first he was somewhat worried, but he quickly relaxed, and curiosity took over again. What a shame he had no user interface. Otherwise, he would definitely have taken a few pictures and posted them in the community; they might even have caused a sensation. He went over and lightly touched their metal shells. When they did not react, he stroked them instead. The texture was remarkably unusual.

Only then did Fang Heng realize how wealthy ancient alchemists had been. The plating on this thing's shell was not copper at all, but Adamantine, while the components inside were almost entirely pure copper because it conducted magic power better. As for the parts that needed both magical conductivity and strength, they were made of Mithril.

His mouth watered at the sight.

He even wanted to tear off a couple of pieces, especially the Mithril parts, but after thinking about it, he did not dare act rashly. Leaving aside the fact that he had no tools, if he woke this giant thing up, that would be quite a spectacle.

He patted the giant's shell and sighed. This adventure has been a total loss. Not only had he lost three Clockwork Sprites, but even the money Scarpe had given him had been left underground in the ruins.

Not to mention the backpack full of alchemy tools he had painstakingly saved up.

Fang Heng was filled with negative feelings toward the Jefflitte Redcoats and Silverwood Spear, though all he could do was curse them in his heart. He had not lived long enough to confront a Major Guild head-on.

Of course, if he got the chance, he would not mind causing trouble for the Jefflitte Redcoats in particular. It would count as revenge for everyone.

There would be a chance, Fang Heng thought to himself.

He had just entered the shadow cast by that small mountain when the cries of those redstarts suddenly sounded above him. Fang Heng looked up just in time to see the brown-and-red birds take flight in a flock.

To his surprise, a figure appeared at the edge of the cliff in that direction.

In that instant, Fang Heng felt as if his heart had skipped a beat. He recognized who it was at once—it was Miya.

But the girl did not notice him below. She raised her right hand and undid the clasp of her shawl, pulling it off and tossing it onto the ground, revealing her graceful figure beneath. She wore a tight suit of fine scales, with an exquisite star-shaped ornament pinned between her collarbones.

She reached behind herself and gathered her long silver hair, tying it into a bundle below her neck and above her shoulder blades with a silver ring.

Then she leaped down.

Fang Heng nearly cried out in fright at the sight, but immediately saw Miya drift downward as lightly as a feather before finally vanishing into the forest atop the enormous creature.

"Wind... Wind Element Attunement?" Fang Heng knew of one of the rarest forms of magical adaptability: an affinity for wind magic. People with such adaptability generated a certain amount of buoyancy in the Sea of Clouds, much like the operating principle of an airship.

Those with such an affinity were born Sky Knights. Whether among natives or Chosen, it was among the highest-tier talents, and top-tier prospects like them were often fiercely recruited by major factions.

The Chosen usually jokingly called them reserve members for major fleets.

But not everyone could use such an ability skillfully.

Other than the rulers of the skies, Dragon Knights and Sky Knights—

Was Miya truly a Dragon Knight or a Sky Knight? Fang Heng could not help touching his chest. The scene from moments ago still lingered before his eyes. Yet she had never shown this side of herself to anyone. Even he had always believed Miya was merely an ordinary fire-element magic user.

Only after her figure had vanished completely did Fang Heng open his mouth, unable to say a word.

Only then did he realize that what he knew might not have been all there was to Miya.

Perhaps it did not even amount to a single mask. A sense of unequal resentment rose uncontrollably within him, but before anger clouded his mind, Fang Heng gradually calmed down.

Like the frustration of youth, it would eventually fade away. He suddenly understood that all of this had merely been his own wishful thinking.

He let out a soft sigh.

His heart felt strangely empty.

But no matter what, he thought, he had to ask her in person: Why had she left at that moment? Why had she given him that dagger? And what exactly was her purpose?

With that thought in mind—or perhaps simply because he wanted to see her again—Fang Heng unconsciously quickened his pace.

He arrived beneath the entrance and climbed up the maintenance ladder on the tentacle's shell with a clank-clank. The entrance was a tightly sealed metal hatch with a valve on it. He gripped the valve with both hands and twisted. A hiss of venting air came from within, then the hatch opened with a squeal.

Fang Heng reached one hand through the doorway and used all his strength to pull himself up. He could not help feeling fortunate that his injuries had mostly healed. Otherwise, he would never have made it through that door.

And once he entered the interior of the massive constructed creature, Fang Heng was immediately stunned.

Inside was a long maintenance passage connecting one entrance to another. Simple railings stood on both sides, and the bridge surface was laid with wire mesh. Looking down, he saw rows of dark-bronze gears, the largest of which stood as tall as two people, their teeth interlocking tightly.

On either side of the passage hung even larger brass counterweights. They descended from above, with their upper halves hidden by the ceiling. One end connected to transmission rods, and each rod alone was as thick as Fang Heng and seven or eight times as long.

Beyond that lay a dense mass of pipes leading to places unknown.

Three glowing crystals floated overhead. They were actually supported by Gai Rings—made from leftover materials from airship buoyancy engines. They looked like ordinary rings, but possessed a certain amount of buoyancy—and were used as lamps.

Those dim lights were the only illumination in the passage.

Only then did Fang Heng carefully cross the maintenance bridge. Muddy water mixed with sand dripped from his thick leather shoes onto the wire mesh. The bridge creaked and groaned, and in the silent passage, the strange sound made his scalp prickle.

More importantly, he feared that this rusted wire-mesh bridge might suddenly snap beneath him. Too many films had scenes like that.

Fortunately, his imagination did not come true. At the other end of the passage was a metal staircase that turned back and led upward. This structure did not surprise Fang Heng.

When he was in Kapuka, he had visited the internal structure of a Kingdom of Kaolin Type 87-A Golem. It was one of the Kapuka Artisans' Association's most expensive teaching aids. Though the Numenor Elves had long vanished by the time that thing had been built, their internal structures were coincidentally identical.

This maintenance bridge and the method of reaching the upper levels were almost no different. It was clear that although Aethelria had suffered several catastrophes throughout history, the techniques of ancient alchemists had been inherited rather completely to the present day.

But the upper level was not the core power chamber he had imagined—the lift compartment on a winged ship, or the place where a Core Crystal was generally housed in a ground-based Magic Device. Fang Heng had thought he might see the legendary Ice Feldspar, but his hopes were not fulfilled.

Only then did he realize that this mountain-sized construct was far larger than the Golems of the Kaolin-Ishurian Alliance.

The second floor was also a maintenance passage. The stairway was covered in dust and dirt, thick with the smell of rust. No one knew how many years had passed since anyone had set foot there. Fang Heng even saw several iron plates that had fused with the floor, inseparable from it.

Further up, there was actually a residential area: a long corridor with room numbers on both sides. Fang Heng had never learned the writing on them and could not understand it. Some doors still stood open, their interiors empty. Apart from the rust smell mentioned earlier, there was no strange odor in the corridor, no musty scent, and not a single skeleton in sight.

It seemed this giant thing had been deliberately left here, and its original owners had at least not departed in a hurry.

The deeper Fang Heng went, the more curious he became about the final command this giant thing had received. Had its original owners been Numenor Elves? Why had they left their home and abandoned this thing here?

He vaguely felt that Miya might know the truth, but then his thoughts wandered back to her purpose. Was her goal also the same as Silverwood Spear's and those people from Jefflit?

Fang Heng was no fool. He vaguely guessed that Miya might have played everyone, because neither side had clearly gained anything from last night's conflict.

As for the Dawnstar Adventurer Group, the cannon fodder in all this, there was even less to say.

Fang Heng suddenly wanted to know how Miss Scarpe and the others were doing outside. How many people from the adventurer group had survived? Though those who had died were destined never to return to this world.

Unfortunately, he had no UI and no way to contact the outside.

He stopped and pressed a hand to his chest. Scarpe's Glowstone was still safely in his pocket, which reassured him slightly. At that very moment, he suddenly heard footsteps coming from the darkness ahead.

Fang Heng froze slightly. He should have been around the fourth or fifth level now, and judging by the height, he was still in the lower section. Logically, there should still have been some distance between him and Miya. Could there be someone else inside this enormous construct?

Was it someone from Jefflit or Silverwood Spear? Or perhaps a Numenor Elf?

But what troubled him most was the possibility that it was not a person.

The sound soon drew near. There was a fork ahead, and Fang Heng cautiously stepped back, hiding behind the wall as he watched outside without daring to breathe.

Then he saw a white figure swiftly pass the intersection. Fang Heng froze—it was clearly Miya's back.

He immediately chased after her—

But the corridor was pitch-black, and there was no one in sight.

"She moved that fast?" Fang Heng stood there in a daze, instinctively opening his mouth to call out, but some strange impulse made him swallow his voice. After thinking for a moment, he closed his mouth and followed in that direction.

He did not walk slowly. The floor rang hollow beneath his feet in the darkness. After a while, Fang Heng suddenly realized that Miya should not have been unable to hear his footsteps. The moment this suspicion arose, he suddenly saw that the corridor had reached its end—it led to a single room. His heart lifted. At least now he would not have to worry about losing her.

But when he passed through the door, Fang Heng froze again.

He had expected to find Miya there, but behind the door was a platform, and outside it was completely empty. There was no sign of the girl.

Fang Heng looked around in confusion. The platform was built from the same sort of maintenance passage, with a layer of wire mesh laid over the iron framework and simple railings around the edge. Ahead was total darkness, and he had no idea what lay below. One section of railing had been smashed open and bent outward.

Had she jumped down from here?

Fang Heng stared at it blankly. There had been no need to break the railing, had there?

Filled with doubt, Fang Heng could not help moving closer for a look. But before he reached the edge, he suddenly felt someone shove him hard from behind.

He lost his balance at once and fell out through the opening. His heart went cold. Turning back, he saw a figure formed from a mass of white mist slowly emerge upon the platform.

Piercing laughter echoed through the darkness, its owner sounding utterly smug and wild.

"Ha ha ha ha ha..."

The laughter echoed through the pitch-black space, hollow and ethereal. It did not sound like anything a human could make. Cold sweat covered Fang Heng's head as he finally understood what he had encountered—a Vengeful Spirit.

How had he forgotten about these ghostly things?

In the shadow-haunted underground of Aethelria, adventurers could always encounter such creatures by chance. These negative-energy beings born from resentment could read people's negative emotions when they least expected it, then take the form of what troubled them most to lure them step by step into death traps.

Fang Heng was very familiar with such things—from television, the internet, and the descriptions of top Chosen. He had thought himself far superior to rookies and believed he would never fall for such a trick. Yet the first time he encountered one, his mind had been so chaotic that he had walked right into its trap.

He could not help cursing under his breath. These ghostly things were far too insidious.

But there would not be a next time.

This time was definitely just bad luck. Fang Heng sheepishly made a round of excuses for himself in his heart.

Luckily, he still had one use of the Slow Fall Component left. Otherwise, he really would have suffered a humiliating defeat this time. Fang Heng glared irritably at the arrogant Vengeful Spirit, thinking, Just you wait, before reaching back to press down the lever on his Magic Furnace.

But the instant he pressed it, cold sweat broke out all over him.

Where was his Magic Furnace?

It had been right there. Such a large Magic Furnace—how had it vanished?

Then he finally realized what had happened. He immediately turned around and, sure enough, saw the misty figure floating in midair with one hand holding his Magic Furnace, grinning smugly at him.

"I—!" This time, Fang Heng truly cursed aloud. But before the words could leave his mouth, he felt as if a wall had suddenly risen from the darkness and slammed into his face. With a tremendous crash, his vision went black.

Fang Heng lay sprawled on the floor, and it took him a long while to catch his breath again.

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