Pillar of Yita

Before him was a darkness so deep that he couldn’t see his own hands.

Fang Hong gritted his teeth and pulled out a half-empty matchbox—slowly struck a match; the feeble flame then illuminated a small area. He turned over on the ground, holding up the light, and couldn’t help but gasp as his whole body ached as if it were falling apart.

The firelight revealed the surroundings, a platform above, about six or seven meters from the one below. He saw his Magic Guided Reactor lying still at the edge of the platform, motionless. The Resentful Spirit that had been there was now gone, its earlier shrill laughter seemed like an illusion, still echoing in the darkness.

Fang Hong vaguely felt that his body might have been enhanced—falling from such a height without breaking bones or getting injured. He checked carefully and found no fractures or serious injuries. Having such resilience before would have been unimaginable; his physical attribute must have been significantly improved.

However, without a character interface, he couldn’t know exactly what had happened.

Fortunately, Fang Hong was used to this. He had studied Alchemy with Kapuka, and like others, he couldn’t just freely distribute points. He had gotten through this, although the rookie phase was a bit long.

He raised the light and then noticed a blackened skeleton not far away. It seemed to be a woman, with a delicate frame, hunched and skewed against the wall. Its head was not on its neck but had rolled to the side.

This was a body that had died from the depletion of Starlight.

Fang Hong was somewhat surprised; those who could enter here shouldn’t be Invokers, since the Dead Silence Zone only affected Glow Materials. Hence, this skeleton must have been a native who died here after her Starlight had completely faded.

Was it a Numelin Elf?

But that didn’t seem quite right. He had read in the Artisan Association archives that ancient Numelin Elves were tall, averaging two meters or more in height, while this skeleton was petite, even shorter than him.

That might have been the Resentful Spirit’s owner, Fang Hong thought. He also happened to know some obscure knowledge about these Undead—a Resentful Spirit was a type of Earthbound Spirit usually bound near their area of death, luring others to repeat their fate and embrace death.

So it died by accident?

He looked up; the height was sufficient to kill someone, but to have the head thrown so far seemed absurd. He looked at the body again; it didn’t seem to have landed head-first.

Unless it could break its neck and then get up from the ground—

This bizarre thought that suddenly arose made Fang Hong give a wry smile, thinking he was merely scaring himself. How could that be possible? Even if it turned into an Undead, it wasn’t revived immediately, given that it had already become a Resentful Spirit.

Just then, the match burned down to his hand, and he quickly shook it out.

The darkness descended once again. Standing in the oppressive gloom, Fang Hong instinctively reached for another match, but his movement suddenly froze. He felt something odd about the Resentful Spirit’s behavior. Undead didn’t know pranks; these twisted beings, dominated by evil consciousness, harbored an extreme hatred towards the living, aiming solely to create more of their kind.

Where had it gone?

Just as he was pondering this, a strange noise suddenly came from the darkness. Click-clack, click-clack, like something crawling on the ground, the crisp sound like bones striking the floor.

Fang Hong’s blood froze.

The sound was coming from behind—

He suddenly lunged forward, something grasped at his back, tearing a huge gash in his robe, leaving his back chillingly cold and the wound painfully hot.

Ignoring the pain, he quickly struck another match and turned around, only to see a gigantic maw lunging at him from the darkness. Of course, calling it a ”gaping maw” might be a bit improper—it was a metal giant maw filled with gear-like teeth.

A giant Construct Hound, almost as tall as a person.

Fang Hong suddenly understood how that skeleton had died; a kiss from this creature was enough to break a neck, no wonder. These ”friendly” big dogs must have been summoned by that Resentful Spirit, damn it!

He quickly rolled back, letting the Construct Hound snap at the air.

Perhaps due to being idle for too long, this old relic wobbled unsteadily, and its movements weren’t as agile as he had expected. But Fang Hong had no time to rejoice as several red lights began to glow in the darkness.

Seven or eight Construct Hounds slowly emerged from the darkness, click-clack, click-clack, the sound of their metal claws striking the floor.

The match in Fang Hong’s hand had burned halfway down.

Without hesitation, he turned and fled. Whether he could escape or not, staying here was certainly a dead end. But just as Fang Hong got up and took a couple of steps, he suddenly tripped over something and flew forward, face first.

Fang Hong’s tears almost came out as he cursed whoever was so wicked to leave things lying around. Ignoring the pain, he scrambled to his feet but suddenly noticed a faint light behind him.

Fang Hong paused and instinctively turned back.

The object that had tripped him was shining brightly in the darkness.

It was a crown, comprising twenty-one stars placed side by side. All the other stars were forged from Mithril except for the central star, which was carved from crystal. At that moment, it was emitting a bright azure light from within the crystal.