Ye Fengxing took out another Town Portal Scroll, ready to head back. Since using it required an eight-second chant, his shifty eyes could only roam up and down, committing the cave's layout more firmly to memory. The next time he came, he would know his way around.
Suddenly, Ye Fengxing noticed something amiss: the ground atop the stone platform seemed to have grown a little lighter...
"Wait, something's happening!" Ye Fengxing promptly canceled the chant and examined the platform. After several looks, he finally confirmed that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The ground really had changed color-from its original inky green to a deep green.
After a brief moment's thought, Ye Fengxing suddenly stepped forward onto the platform.
-101, Plague of Death. System notification: You have been affected by "Plague of Death" and will lose 17% of your HP every second.
Hmm, looks like I guessed right. Ye Fengxing nodded to himself and stepped back down.
The fading color of the platform's surface meant its threat was diminishing. As for the reason, it probably had something to do with that orange object beneath the bone chair. Whatever the thing was doing, there was no harm in waiting to see. He didn't need to leave just yet.
Ye Fengxing simply sat down. Unfortunately, he had no cigarettes on hand, or the fellow would certainly have lit up a couple while he waited.
With nothing else to do, Ye Fengxing switched out of the game and logged onto the official website to see whether there was any interesting news.
A post titled "Famous Player Exploits Bug to Kill Level 20 Boss" immediately caught his attention...
The post began with a lengthy account of some of "One Leaf Windwalk's" "glorious achievements" in "Light of Freedom," then abruptly changed tack: "Reportedly, this individual was a highly significant member of the closed-beta testing group. Yet shortly after launch, when most players were only around level 10, he used his closed-beta experience to exploit a bug, command NPCs, and kill a level 20 world boss! This undoubtedly harmed the interests of the wider open-beta player base and showed utter contempt for the very concept of fairness. How can we turn a blind eye to such behavior?"
A series of game screenshots appeared beneath the post, complete with brief captions. Short as they were, the captions sounded utterly certain, giving the whole thing an air of "pictures, explanations, and undeniable proof."
Given how famous the username "One Leaf Windwalk" was, along with the post's juicy gossip and wealth of detail, its popularity was unmatched. The forum's tireless commenters had collectively bumped it into the most prominent spot on the front page.
The masses, ignorant of the truth, had long since split into two camps and were now happily tearing into each other.
"Shameless Blade Saint, Rascal Ye, you're really something. A dog never stops eating SHIT, huh? Rascal Ye, I fucking despise you!!!"
"Confirmed: the guy above is a complete dumbass."
"Fuck off! Would our God Ye do something like that? Hey, trolls, did God Ye kick the asses of every woman in your families back in the day?!"
"Well said, guy above! Go, God Ye! God Ye, I love you!"
"Even if he exploited a bug, that still takes serious skill. If you trolls don't like it, go exploit one yourselves."
"Just passing through... Personally, I think this 'One Leaf Windwalk' might not actually be God Ye. Maybe Blue Star deliberately gave an NPC his name to interact with the players. I think that would be pretty hilarious, so I'm giving it my support."
"A truth guru has appeared above! Upvoted!"
Ye Fengxing skimmed through the comments at lightning speed. Apparently, he was still pretty popular. Most of the commenters sided with him, and reading them left him grinning from ear to ear.
Who posted this? he wondered in passing as he browsed.
In theory, not many people should have known he was a closed-beta tester. Blue Star hadn't released the list of testers, and only a hundred or so players had been invited. Apart from a few dozen foreigners he wasn't familiar with, he knew all the others. None of them seemed to have any particular beef with him...
Not only did the poster insist that he was a closed-beta tester, they also gave a confident, detailed account of how he had "exploited a bug" to kill the boss. The images really were unedited game screenshots, too, lending the entire post a fair amount of credibility and fooling quite a few people.
Ye Fengxing studied a few screenshots. The person in them had deliberately obscured their name and was watching from the sidelines, mingling with several other players among the Dragonkin Laborers. Brick to the Face and Sky Wanderer even appeared in some of the shots-the two fellows had been pumping their fists and cheering at the time, probably unaware that someone had quietly immortalized their heroic poses.
Those Dragonkin players were all unfortunate souls, born into lives of hard labor. They simply hadn't possessed Ye Fengxing's persistence and luck, which had allowed him to dig up a purple treasure and earn the favor of the big shot Eshavante. Naturally, none of what followed had happened for them.
Besides, even if every one of them had "Ashavante's Protection," they still couldn't possibly have commanded the Dragonkin Guards to take down the King of the Scarabs. After all, it hadn't been a bug at all, just the result of his skill and knowledge of the game. Without his orders, the Dragonkin Guards would merely have rushed forward in a disorganized mob and hacked at whatever targets they found. Focus fire? What a joke.
However advanced an NPC's AI might be, it still had its limits. It couldn't fully match a real person.
With the King of the Scarabs' strength, if its minions had bought it just a little more time, it would undoubtedly have unleashed its ultimate move and wiped out every Dragonkin Guard. Never mind anything else-that final massive blast of fire alone would certainly have killed them all without his commands! Then Eske would have been left without a single soldier, and things would have gone very badly...
Things in games weren't always clear-cut, and this incident really did look bizarre at first glance... NPCs obediently following a player's commands, a player transforming into an elite NPC-it certainly seemed abnormal. It would have been understandable if it were a quest, but strangely enough, no second player had yet managed to obtain a similar quest from Eske. That made it...
The poster was clever and a seasoned gossipmonger. Thus, an incident that was already somewhat strange had been elevated into a moral issue under their pen, then taken a step further and tied to "the interests of every open-beta player."
Impressive! Truly impressive! With such a damning accusation slapped onto him, even someone as shameless as he was couldn't possibly ignore it.
Still, the poster had underestimated just how thick his skin was. Although he wasn't entirely unmoved, his "reaction" was extremely limited... He merely wondered who the person was, then closed the webpage and went back to the game.
Browsing forum chatter really did kill time. When Ye Fengxing switched back, he found that the platform's color had already become very pale.
He patiently waited for another half hour or so... Suddenly, a dazzling sliver of milky-white light seeped out from beneath the bone chair. At the same time, the ground shuddered, and the sickly green covering the platform finally vanished completely.
"Holy shit!" Ye Fengxing couldn't help exclaiming when he saw what lay before him. A "stone platform"? Not a chance! That... that was an enormous platform of jade!
With the sickly green impurities entirely gone, the "stone platform" glowed with a captivating, translucent luster beneath the milky-white light. Having studied jade artifacts extensively, he recognized its nature at a glance: top-quality jade.
Whatever else Ye Fengxing might hesitate to boast about, his knowledge and study of jade certainly placed him among the finest experts of his day.
This jade platform before him... Ahem, a single solid piece of jade this enormous certainly couldn't be found in the real world. Still, getting to feast his eyes on it in a game was pretty delightful, too.
People often said things like, "I wouldn't trade it for mountains of gold and silver," but how many had actually seen mountains of gold and silver? The visual impact of that dazzling brilliance... It was beyond the imagination of anyone who had never witnessed it.
Another saying went, "Gold has a price, but jade is priceless." A "mountain of jade" was truly a rarity in this world; only certain enormous jade deposits deserved that description. Even then, they were merely raw jade, and there was no telling how good or bad the quality might be.
Ye Fengxing loved jade. Such a completely natural platform, untouched by chisel or blade and made entirely of exquisite jade, truly overwhelmed his eyes, making his eyelids twitch several times.
Unfortunately, this enchanting sight was merely an illusion, a flower in a mirror, a moon reflected in water. It wasn't real... After a few moments of wistful admiration, Ye Fengxing collected himself, stepped onto the jade platform, and walked toward the enormous bone chair at its center.
What exactly required such an incredible setup and such formidable guards?
Suppressing his intense curiosity, Ye Fengxing approached the bone chair, glancing back repeatedly along the way. He bent down and rummaged beneath it, soon pulling out a scroll roughly the length of a chopstick. The little thing kept flashing in his hand, refusing to settle down.
"Sealed Elder Scroll... What is this thing?" Curious, Ye Fengxing examined it several times, but couldn't make anything of it. He simply dragged out the treasure chest beneath the bone chair instead, hoping to see whether any other good loot remained inside. The result disappointed him. Apart from a rag lining the bottom, there was nothing.
Ye Fengxing lifted the rag and searched all around, but still found nothing worthwhile. Disappointed, he could only put the treasure chest back. This time, however, his gaze happened to fall on the rag...
Several lines of strange symbols were printed on its left half. A careless person might have mistaken them for mere "symbols," but he frowned slightly. They were quite familiar to him; he had seen them many times before.
"Chronicles of the Sky" had created an immense fantasy world with a remarkably realistic feel, even inventing a language specifically for it. During the closed beta, Ye Fengxing had already experienced just how lifelike the game was. Although he couldn't yet use that language fluently, he wouldn't dismiss it as meaningless scribbles.
After quickly scanning those lines of symbols, Ye Fengxing immediately switched out of the game and logged onto the official website.
Once translated, the meaning became clear: Ancient evil is imprisoned here. The glory of my Lord shall cow all demons. You who come after us, never open this Gate of the Underworld without permission, unless the world faces its end.-Jorsen Cindrich
"Damn... This thing has one hell of a pedigree." Ye Fengxing reread the passage, clicking his tongue in amazement. He had a general understanding of the background lore of "Chronicles of the Sky," and this "Jorsen Cindrich" was a major figure in every sense!
The man also possessed another imposing name-His Holiness Cindrich VII!
The honorific here referred not to a king, but to the Pope. As for the Pope's position, it commanded extraordinary status and prestige in the human world!
A king could rule an entire empire! Impressive, right? Powerful, right? Yet all the kings of the human world had to obey the Pope... In fact, when a new king ascended the throne, the Pope had to crown him in person before his subjects would recognize his right to rule.
Anyone with even a little knowledge of "Cloudsoar's" background lore knew just how powerful the Pope was. And His Holiness Jorsen Cindrich VII was the most legendary of all the popes throughout history!
Before you continue