47: Chapter 47 The Last Breath of the Dead Dragon

The black stone stairs were narrower than Sect Master Di Kun had imagined.

The stone walls on both sides were damp and glistening; the light from the mining lamp slid along the surface, revealing crisscrossing claw marks.

Those marks were of varying depths, some still retaining the arc left by scraping finger bones, with dried blood stuffed into the crevices, bloated into a dark brown by the dampness.

Sect Master Di Kun walked at the very front, the sect leader token clasped in his palm.

The stairs slanted downward; the deeper they went, the heavier the Spiritual Qi became, and the colder the air grew, as if the entire mountain belly were exhaling a moldy breath.

The Speedrunner followed on the left, carrying an old mining lamp; the smell of lamp oil was choking, but it masked much of the underground rot.

Every dozen steps or so, he would draw a short line on the wall with a charcoal pencil.

"The direction of these claw marks is all upward," he said, lowering his voice. "They didn't go down from above; they were climbing up from below."

The Life-Skill Player distributed damp cloths to everyone; the cloths were sprinkled with medicinal powder, and a bitter scent rushed into his nasal cavities.

He bit down on a corner of his own cloth, and the strap of his medicine chest dug into his shoulder, emitting a slight rubbing sound.

The Sect Protection Elder walked slower and slower.

The scent of cold iron on him was pressed down even further by the underground dampness, and the edge of his scabbard grazed the stone wall, bringing down a layer of black moss.

After another dozen steps down, he raised his hand and pressed it against a bloodstain on the wall, his fingertips picking up a bit of blackened powder.

"I have been in the sect for over sixty years and have never heard that the Founders Hall had a place like this."

"Just because no one mentioned it doesn't mean it doesn't exist," Sect Master Di Kun said, stepping over a broken stone stair. "It's also possible that those who did mention it didn't survive to tell the tale."

The Sect Protection Elder withdrew his fingers from the bloodstain, the hilt of his sword creaking under his grip.

A half-collapsed stone door appeared at the end of the stairs.

The inside of the door had a mechanism slot, but the outside was locked shut by three black iron bolts.

The iron bolts were heavily rusted, with remnants of formation patterns visible beneath the rust layers.

The Speedrunner crouched by the door, holding the mining lamp close to the ground, revealing several long drag marks.

"The sealing of the door was done from the outside," he said, scraping the edge of the mechanism slot with a short blade. "The people inside wanted to open the door, but the door hinge was jammed. The people outside added iron bolts and even reinforced the formation."

The Dark Souls Player kicked the corner of the door, and the collapsed stone debris rolled down the stairs: "Classic teammate closing the door."

No one replied.

Sect Master Di Kun withdrew his gaze from the three iron bolts and walked into the passageway behind the stone door.

The end of the passageway was blocked by several withered bones, their postures chaotic, as if they were still fighting for the exit in their final moments.

The first skeleton lay prone on the ground, its fingers dug into the stone crevices, half of its finger bones worn away.

The second one leaned against the wall, cradling a broken Formation Flag; the flagpole was snapped in the middle, and the flag itself had rotted into black tatters.

The third one lay on its back at the end of the stairs, a short sword pierced through its chest.

When the Sect Protection Elder saw the short sword, the color drained from his face.

"Taichu Sect regulation style."

Sect Master Di Kun crouched down, not touching the skeletons, and used the sect leader token to push aside the rotten cloth on the chest of the third skeleton.

The Taichu pattern on the hilt of the short sword was still visible, and the blade had pierced through between the ribs at a tricky angle; it didn't look like a chaotic strike from a battlefield.

The Dark Souls Player also crouched down and leaned in to look: "It was stabbed from the front. The attacker was very close to him."

The Life-Skill Player frowned: "Fellow sect members?"

Sect Master Di Kun withdrew the sect leader token into his palm and stood up.

The light of the mining lamp swept across his profile, revealing a bit of blood seeping from an old wound on his shoulder.

"The external enemy killed their way in, the people below were climbing up, yet the door was locked from the outside," he said, looking into the darkness ahead. "Add to that this sword strike; the destruction of the Taichu Sect a hundred years ago was not the work of just one hand."

A low echo reverberated in the passageway.

It sounded like someone speaking from very far away, or like the tide crashing into a hollow stone chamber.

The Life-Skill Player pressed the damp cloth tighter and added another pinch of medicinal powder for everyone.

"The Death Qi is starting to get heavy. Inhaling too much will cause dizziness and auditory hallucinations; don't trust the voices in your ears."

The Dark Souls Player covered his face with the damp cloth, leaving only his eyes exposed: "Don't worry, I don't really trust teammate voice chat anyway."

The Speedrunner stood up from the side of the stone door, twirling the charcoal pencil in his palm: "Then the only reason you've survived until now is because the Sect Master didn't enable friendly fire."

The passageway turned, and the space suddenly dropped.

An underground rift cavern appeared before everyone's eyes.

The stone layer overhead was cracked with countless fissures, from which blackish-green water droplets fell, smashing onto the broken stones below.

In the center of the cavern lay a broken Spiritual Vein, its body embedded in the black rock. Its surface once must have had a jade-like luster, but now it was split into two, with jagged edges, lying in the darkness like a severed Dragon bone.

A cluster of cyan-white light condensed at the split.

The light was very weak, yet it pushed back the surrounding darkness for half a zhang.

Sect Master Di Kun only took one look, and the pale silver mark on the back of his right hand grew slightly hot; the feeling of oppression coming from the direction of the spirit pool found its source at this moment.

The remnant core of the old Spiritual Vein.

The Life-Skill Player took a step forward, the porcelain bottles in his medicine chest clinking: "This thing can cleanse the Origin of the spirit pool."

"Do not take it directly," Sect Master Di Kun said, raising his hand to stop him.

Around the remnant core, a large amount of black root-like resentment was coiled.

Those roots burrowed out from the cracks in the broken Spiritual Vein, entangling the cyan-white light, and then dug into the black rock in all directions.

Hanging from the roots were many tiny fragments of a Broken Stele, each one vibrating gently. The ancient characters on the surface of the fragments were incomplete, and whenever light shone upon them, gray shadows would swim between the gaps of the characters.

Semi-transparent text floated up in Sect Master Di Kun's field of vision.

Discovered: Remnant core of the old Spiritual Vein.

The remnant core can be used to purify the Origin of the spirit pool.

Current status: Entangled by resentment, suppressed by Broken Stele fragments, chaotic.

Forcibly taking it will carry pollution back to the spirit pool, causing secondary contamination.

Sect Master Di Kun stared at the four characters "secondary contamination," his raised finger hovering in mid-air.

The black formation nails used by Han Lishan to destroy the pool had fragments of the Broken Stele in their raw materials.

Now, there were also Broken Stele fragments hanging next to the remnant core.

The two threads met here, like two iron nails buried for a hundred years, simultaneously pressing against the throat of the Taichu Sect.

The Sect Protection Elder took a step forward, and just as his sword tip crossed a crack on the ground, the withered bones on both sides of the cavern suddenly moved.

First, the fingers.

A section of finger bone lifted from the black mud, bringing up viscous Death Qi.

Then, more skeletons propped themselves up from behind the broken stones, the side of the stone walls, and the fissures.

They were still wrapped in tattered old Taichu Sect robes, and gray firelight ignited in their eye sockets; as the firelight flickered, the black roots around the remnant core tightened accordingly.

"Retreat!" Sect Master Di Kun's voice dropped low.

The Sect Protection Elder's sword flashed from its scabbard, held horizontally at the very front.

The Dark Souls Player had already turned sideways, pressing against a broken stone, his short sword held in a reverse grip, his toes finding the gap needed to roll.

When the first corpse puppet lunged, its movements were not as agile as a living person's, but it was stiffly fast.

Its hand bones clawed across the stone wall, gouging out five grooves on the spot, and gravel flew toward the Life-Skill Player's face.

Sect Master Di Kun swept his sleeve, and the gravel slammed into his cuff, leaving several white marks.

The Sect Protection Elder's sword slashed down, and the corpse puppet's forearm was severed by the sword, the bone arm crashing against the rock wall and shattering into three pieces.

The black roots brightened for a moment.

The broken bones trembled on the ground, as if pulled by invisible threads, and flew back rapidly to the corpse puppet's stump.

With a few clicking sounds, the bone arm reattached, and the gray fire burned even brighter than before.

The Speedrunner stared at the restored bone arm and drew a fierce line on the stone wall with his charcoal pencil: "Can't kill it, it's a respawning mob."

The Life-Skill Player gripped his medicine bottle tight: "It's not respawning; it's the resentment repairing the bones."

The Dark Souls Player watched the corpse puppets standing up one after another in front of him, and his eyes actually brightened a little.

He raised his hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, and the short sword turned back into a standard grip between his fingers.

"This time it feels like a proper dungeon."

Deep pits were trampled into the black mud beneath the corpse puppets' feet, and the gray fire connected into a single mass, pressing toward the entrance of the rift cavern.