126: The good days are over.

The countdown was still running. 23:57:16.

Shen Xiaochuan opened his eyes; the wound on his left shoulder had split open again, and blood flowed down his clothes, forming a small puddle on the ground. He ignored it, swiping his finger across the console to call up the Global Divine Realm control interface.

A box popped up on the screen: [Huaxia Command Headquarters Instruction Confirmation — Execute "Sinking Order"? Y/N]

He clicked "Y" directly.

The System paused for two seconds before a new prompt appeared: [Ley Line Disintegration Protocol initiating... Three Abyss Anchors must be manually activated. Please specify projection coordinates.]

Shen Xiaochuan stared at the map, his finger tapping three locations in quick succession.

"35.68 North Latitude, 139.76 East Longitude — The bottom of Tokyo Bay."

"34.97 North Latitude, 138.93 East Longitude — The Mount Fuji Fault Zone."

"31.59 North Latitude, 130.40 East Longitude — The center of the Kyushu Trench."

With every coordinate he spoke, his faith points decreased by forty thousand; one hundred and twenty thousand were gone in an instant.

The sky suddenly turned black. Three beams of black light pierced down from the clouds and plunged into the earth. The ground began to sink, and the walls of the Command Temple emitted a piercing screech as the entire building tilted.

"It's done," he whispered.

The communication channel suddenly crackled to life.

"Boss! Abnormal energy detected in the eastern sea!" Ling Feng's voice was urgent. "It's too massive; the drones can't even capture the edges!"

Shen Xiaochuan looked out the window. The distant horizon split open, and black seawater surged upward in a frothy foam; a fishy stench could be smelled even through the barrier. A large bulge rose from the sea surface and slowly unfurled — eight heads, all with eyes wide open.

It was Yamata no Orochi.

It lay across the sea, its eight heads facing different directions, spewing black mist from its mouths. When the black mist touched the glowing spots that hadn't yet been extinguished, the light vanished instantly.

The System suddenly displayed a golden prompt: [Detected that Japan's Yamata no Orochi is an Epic Evil God. Triggering the Huaxia Mythical Heroic Spirit Emergency Support Mechanism. Divine Sense Resonance has temporarily unlocked Mythical Heroic Spirit Summoning permissions.]

Shen Xiaochuan stood still. However, the copper gear pendant on his wrist suddenly became scalding hot, as if it were about to catch fire.

In the next second, the sky split open.

It wasn't the dark clouds parting; the space itself tore open, and a silvery light bore down. A figure stepped down from the light, treading on cloud Qi, holding a three-pointed double-edged saber in his hand.

It was Erlang Shen Yang Jian.

He landed without a sound, but the cracks in the ground stopped expanding.

The eight heads of Yamata no Orochi turned simultaneously, their roar causing the waves to surge backward. Yang Jian looked up and delivered a single strike.

The blade's light was thirty feet long, cutting straight through the middle and severing the central head. Black blood sprayed high into the air and fell into the sea, causing the water to bubble and boil. The remaining seven heads were about to move, but Yang Jian had already flashed onto the serpent's body; the blade light flashed seven more times, striking every head.

Yamata no Orochi convulsed as its body began to burn; the black mist was forced back by the flames, shrinking into a ball. Finally, that ball of fire exploded violently, and the ashes scattered with the wind.

Yang Jian stood still. The crack in the sky slowly closed, and the light vanished. He turned to glance at Shen Xiaochuan, his gaze cold, as if looking at a stranger. Then, his entire being transformed into points of light and disappeared.

The battle that had just occurred seemed as if it had never happened.

The System prompt appeared again: [Epic Evil God Yamata no Orochi has been eliminated. Divine war traces erased, related data sealed.]

Shen Xiaochuan stood there, his breathing heavy. The blood from his left shoulder had flowed down to his elbow and was dripping onto the ground. The Divine Sense Resonance state ended, faith points resumed recovery at +1 per second, and the copper gear was no longer hot.

The communication channel rang again, and this time it was Ling Feng, his voice lowered: "Boss, I've received a signal. It's not from the enemy; it's our own code. It's intermittent, sounding like a plea for help."

"Where?"

"At the edge of the battlefield, to the southwest, about thirty meters underground. I sent a drone in to look; there are walls, it's man-made, not a cave. Inside... there are people."

"How many?"

"Preliminary scans show thirty-seven life signs, all with Huaxia genetic markers. Their body temperatures are low, but they're still alive."

Shen Xiaochuan frowned and remained silent for a few seconds.

"Are you sure they're prisoners? Not a trap?"

"The signal is using old-fashioned Morse code, repeating three times: 'Dragon City Defense Force 3rd Detachment, No. 709, requesting rescue.' This code was discontinued ten years ago; only veterans would know it."

Shen Xiaochuan moved. He picked up the halberd leaning against the wall and used it as a staff to walk out. His right leg was still bleeding, but his gait was steady. As he walked out of the Command Temple, the ground outside was still shaking, though less violently. The three Abyss Anchors had already penetrated deep into the crust; the sinking program could not be stopped.

"Notify the front line to blockade the southwest area and prohibit any non-Huaxia units from approaching," he said as he walked. "Dispatch two squads of heavy armored soldiers with breaching equipment. I'm going down personally."

"But Boss, your injury—"

"Cut the crap," he interrupted. "If our comrades have really been imprisoned for this long, and we don't go now, once the ground below collapses, no one will be able to save them."

Ling Feng said no more. The sound of him barking orders came through the comms.

Shen Xiaochuan walked through the ruins, the path littered with rubble and scorched metal. The wind whipped his clothes. His left hand brushed the copper gear at his cuff; he said nothing.

After walking for ten minutes, he saw a figure standing on a high ground ahead — it was Ling Feng. Beside him was a modified scout vehicle with a signal receiver on its roof. Further ahead, the ground had collapsed into a hole, dark and gaping like an open mouth.

"The entrance is here," Ling Feng greeted him. "Thermal imaging shows a passage inside extending downward, ending in a large hall. The life signs are still there, but they're very weak."

Shen Xiaochuan nodded and looked toward the hole. There were scorch marks around the edges, as if it had been opened by high heat. He crouched down and touched the rock wall, his finger coming away with a layer of dust.

"It's not newly dug. This place has existed for a long time; it was just sealed off."

"It might be a secret facility of the Japanese," Ling Feng said. "We didn't discover it before because it was buried too deep and used anti-detection materials."

Shen Xiaochuan stood up and slung the halberd across his back. He took a flare from his belt, pulled the igniter, and tossed it into the hole. The red light fell, illuminating a set of downward-sloping concrete stairs; most of the moisture-proof paint on the walls had peeled off.

"Prepare the ropes," he said. "I'm going down first."

"No!" Ling Feng stopped him. "You're the commander; you can't take the risk. Let me take men down to scout the path."

"You're a scout, not a shock trooper," Shen Xiaochuan looked at him. "If there's a trap inside, you'll be the first to die. I have the Faith Mall to save my life; you don't."

Ling Feng gritted his teeth. "Then at least wait for the heavy armored soldiers—"

"Can't wait." Shen Xiaochuan walked to the edge of the hole. "Thirty-seven people... it's already a miracle they've survived until now. If we delay any longer, even their breathing will stop."

He grabbed the rope, flipped over, and slid down.

A draft blew up from below, carrying the smell of mold and rust. He landed steadily, halberd in hand. The flare was still burning, its red light illuminating the surroundings. This was a corridor with doors on both sides, labeled with numbers: B-3, B-4... He walked forward, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. When he reached the third door, it wasn't fully closed; he pushed it open gently with his halberd.

It was a prison cell. There was an iron bed, a toilet, and a sink, all very old. A few empty lunch boxes were piled in the corner, printed with Japanese characters. There were drag marks on the floor, along with dried blood.

He continued walking. The door to the fifth cell was open, and it had an extra table with papers scattered on it. He walked over and picked one up. On the paper were simple sketches of people, all Huaxia, wearing the uniforms of the Dragon City Defense Force. Under each drawing, a name and date were written.

The last drawing was of a young soldier with a very thin face and closed eyes. Below it was written: "Li Weiguo, 22 years old, hometown Henan, wants to eat the dumplings mom makes."

Shen Xiaochuan placed the paper back on the table.

He heard a sound ahead, very faint, like gasping.

He quickened his pace to the end of the corridor. The final door was thicker, made of alloy, and the electronic lock was broken. He used his halberd to pry open a gap and pushed hard.

The door opened.

Inside was a hall, larger than expected. Dozens of beds were neatly arranged, with people lying on them covered by thin blankets. They were all incredibly thin, their faces pale and their breathing weak. In the corner, an old generator was still humming, powering a few lights.

At the far end stood a person wearing a tattered military uniform, his back to the door, holding an iron bar against his own neck.

Hearing the noise, the man slowly turned his head.

He was a middle-aged man with a full beard and cloudy eyes. When he saw Shen Xiaochuan, his hand shook, and the iron bar fell to the floor with a clang.

"Are you... here to kill us?" His voice was hoarse, filled with despair and defensiveness. "Or... to collect the bodies?"

"Don't be afraid, I am Shen Xiaochuan." His tone was firm yet gentle. "Dragon City is under my command now."

The man froze, his mouth hanging open, unable to speak as tears began to flow.

Shen Xiaochuan stepped forward and held his shoulder. His hand touched the man's arm; the bones were prominent, and he was nothing but skin and bones.

"How long have you been imprisoned?" he asked.

"Three years and four months," the man sobbed. "They said we surrendered, but we didn't... we kept waiting... for someone to come..."

Shen Xiaochuan glanced back at the dark passage outside the door.

He knew the world above was sinking.

But here, there were still people alive.