Chapter 108: Anchor Point

For everyone present, five minutes had never felt so long.

Heigo Okita and Akira Fujii were not the type to engage in social chatter. The former was struggling to regulate his breathing to recover his strength, while the latter was busy contemplating the contents of his last will and testament.

Lu Yunfeng, the most talkative member of the entire department, decided to break the heavy atmosphere. He smiled at Chen Zi’ang and said, “Old Chen, if I’m unlucky enough to die, do me a favor. Go to my place, open my computer—the password is my birthday—and make sure to wipe my hard drive and browser history clean.”

“I think your parents would be unlikely to go through your computer,” Chen Zi’ang sighed.

“What if they do?” Lu Yunfeng laughed heartily. “Please, man. I won’t be able to rest in peace otherwise.”

“What exactly is on your computer, Senior Lu?” Reina Tsukimiya asked, curious.

“Just some study materials,” Lu Yunfeng said dismissively. “Old Chen definitely has them too.”

“He doesn’t,” Reina Tsukimiya said with a sweet smile.

“That’s just what you think,” Lu Yunfeng retorted.

“I know he doesn’t,” Reina insisted.

“Hey, you know what?” Lu Yunfeng was just about to give her a lecture on the many ways a man could hide his ‘study materials’ when Xia Qingyu cut him off.

“That’s enough. Keep quiet.”

Chen Zi’ang felt a wave of relief. Thank goodness the leader couldn't stand it anymore and intervened; heaven knows what kind of dark history Lu Yunfeng would have fabricated for himself.

“Is the five minutes up yet?” To prevent Old Lu from continuing his rumors, Chen Zi’ang quickly pressed the issue.

“Are you even human?” Lu Yunfeng snapped. “It’s not like we’re racing to be reincarnated!”

“There should be four minutes remaining,” Fujii observed rigorously.

“However, I agree with Chen Zi’ang,” Okita added. “There is no need to rest for so long. The longer we delay here, the more unknown variables we may face.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Xia Qingyu said coldly. “Rest for the originally scheduled time.”

She always spoke with a tone of absolute finality and never felt the need to explain herself. She was truly born to be a leader.

Time ticked away, second by second. Chen Zi’ang leaned on his Mandala Dharma Sword, his mind inexplicably haunted by the miserable expression on Mie Nishikawa’s face before she died.

*“...Save... us...”*

But how could he save them?

He had no way to change the Ecological Protection Act, nor could he stop beasts from attacking remote towns.

Qingyu once said that transcendents should not be bound by societal rules, but he had yet to reach a state of detachment from everything, let alone possess the power to change this reality.

“Five minutes are up,” Xia Qingyu said, standing up coldly. “Let’s move.”

The path through the Black Altar was not easy to navigate. While it was clear the dwarves had tried to build it to be grand and deep, the height difference between the two races made it somewhat cramped for humans—the ceiling was barely two meters high, looming right over their heads.

All the passages were unguarded, silent and eerie, like a tomb. The damp air carried a faint, putrid stench, mixed with the acrid, charred scent of carbonized remains.

Reina Tsukimiya held a glow stick and led the way. The others followed cautiously, watching as the path stretched out from the darkness ahead, only to be swallowed by it again behind them.

Turning a corner, they entered a hall.

There were no lights, only braziers supported by metal rods, the charcoal inside emitting a dim, firefly-like glow that barely illuminated their surroundings. In the center lay many stone coffins, or perhaps stone beds, each holding the corpse of a dwarf.

This was Chen Zi’ang’s first time seeing a dwarf, even if they were dead. The race had an average height of about 1.2 meters. The males wore turbans and had thick beards; the females wore veils, and their figures were clearly defined, proving that the online rumors about "dwarf women having beards" were indeed false.

Furthermore, their corpses were perfectly preserved, and their skin seemed to be coated in some kind of embalming oil that emitted a strange, peculiar sweet scent. At first, it smelled like the rich fragrance of flowers, but lingering on it too long induced an urge to vomit.

“An anchor point,” Reina Tsukimiya said suddenly. “The site of the ritual.”

“We are lucky,” Xia Qingyu said, ignoring her comment. “It is highly probable that this is where the divinity is anchored. Although He is not here now, He will inevitably come.”

“Waiting for a rabbit?” Chen Zi’ang asked.

“I fear what’s coming isn’t a rabbit, but a demon,” Fujii replied.

“Regardless of whether it’s a demon, we must give it our all.” Lu Yunfeng paced the room a few times before finding a position where he could use a stone coffin as cover, perfectly positioned to fire at the dark entrance opposite them.

“Don’t stay there,” Xia Qingyu said abruptly. “Retreat to the coffin behind you.”

“Understood,” Lu Yunfeng said, not questioning her, and immediately moved.

Following Xia Qingyu’s command, the four of them took their positions. Only Reina Tsukimiya, who neither accepted nor received instructions, stood silently by the brazier at the entrance, hiding her figure behind the corner of the wall.

As the hall fell silent, a terrifying, morgue-like atmosphere began to settle into their hearts.

The senses of a transcendent could perceive a certain indescribable evil permeating the hall. It was like persistent flies hovering over the stone coffins, wandering among the corpses, laying eggs in the urns near the wall, and watching every living thing in the hall with their uniquely malicious compound eyes.

Even the experienced Reina Tsukimiya could not help but be affected by this eeriness, feeling an uncontrollable palpitation.

She knew that given the spiritual perception and depth of Mie Nishikawa, the divine kingdom left behind after her death might not be difficult to handle—at least for her.

But the King of Ghouls held the divine office of "Depriving Death," and its power was truly too strange and terrifying. Like that glare directed at her senior across myriad dimensions last time; even she had been helpless, forced to call upon the Lord of the Great Deep for aid.

Xia Qingyu’s thoughts were unfathomable; one could not trust that she held any goodwill toward her senior. If the situation took an unfavorable turn, she had to protect him at all costs.

As for the fact that the anchor point here was still active and posed a danger to the Northern City... that was out of her hands!

She made up her mind, closed her eyes, and said nothing as shadows stretched out from her feet, extending deep into the darkness.

Xia Qingyu hid behind the only pillar in the center of the hall, also remaining silent, not bothering to stare at the dark entrance ahead.

She simply rested her left hand on her elbow, her right arm held upright. An exquisite, intricate silver key danced between her slender fingers, fluttering like a carefree butterfly.