Pillar of Yita

After crossing one valley, there came another, part of the continuous Green Dragon Mountain Range. Here, you couldn’t see the steep cliffs like those near the High Tower of Summer Ash to the north of Colin, but the scenery was even more breathtaking.

Silver moonlight poured from the night sky, illuminating the dense vegetation in the valley. Rocks had solidified into bizarre arch shapes, resembling galloping wild horses, giving this place its picturesque name—Steeds Gate.

The rock faces under the moonlight exhibited a desolate reddish-grey hue, as if containing oxidized iron in the greywacke, with some uneven patterns seen as though they once adorned their surfaces, but time had smoothed them away. Fang Hong dismounted from Mr. Greyrock’s back, stood alone by the rock face, and touched the cold surface of those ancient slates, the sensations returning felt like crossing a millennium, conveying stories from an era long past.

But that was just an illusion, for the era of the Serpent People Empire had existed much longer than a single epoch.

Their empire had ruled the vast lands before the Numelin Elves had even appeared. Today’s Serpentfolk in Saint Hugon call themselves Xinsas, which is said to be an obscure Serpentfolk term for their long-forgotten ancient empire.

Unlike the Numelin Elves, which disappeared without a trace after the calamity of Aithelin, the Serpentfolk still live in Eteliria, between Saint Hugon Corner and Numelin Forest, though they have long forgotten their past glory, oblivious to the ancient empire’s memory, maintaining age-old clan systems and matriarchal societies within the jungle.

Only in their mysterious sorcery and ritual ceremonies are some glimpses of the past grandeur faintly visible.

Fang Hong stood quietly in the valley.

After defeating the Blood Oath Alliance Brigade, the group had finally arrived here, at the entrance to the remnants of the Serpent People Empire. It was almost as if he were stealing a moment of leisure; he had asked his comrades for a leave, wanting to see the splendor of this ancient empire lost in the river of history by himself.

He proceeded alone along the valley, the moonlight casting shadows on the oddly shaped rock faces. The reddish-grey rock walls peeled away in layers, seeming to contain something within.

The original buildings were almost unrecognizable, shattered among the red sandstone, or perhaps the sandstones themselves were parts of them, with vines and bushes overgrowing on them.

The natural cycle of life and death had piled upon the corpses of this civilization across countless ages, but Fang Hong wasn’t here to uncover their secrets; he was merely profoundly curious about this ancient empire.

Many scholars held great curiosity towards this empire, yet research about it had almost stalled because even the Serpentfolk themselves had forgotten their own script. Numelin, existing contemporaneously, was itself a grand mystery, with rare serpent scripts hard to find comparisons for today.

Because this civilization, sleeping in the forest, could only slowly vanish under the entanglement of vines, its palaces once crumbled into slabs, which then turned into gravel, and finally disappeared without a trace.

Fang Hong suddenly felt fortunate that he could witness its last vestiges before it completely vanished.

He quietly observed the gravel and rubble.

The rubble could not provide him answers,

But it could narrate the past tales.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to find it was Lonely White Field. The current captain of the Rain Listener Brigade pointed towards the other side of the valley and said to him,

”That’s the entrance to the ruins.”

Fang Hong paused for a moment before looking in that direction.

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. Behind the reddish-grey rock wall, there was a row of man-carved footholds that seemed to guide in one direction. At the end of it, in the valley, stood two tall Serpentfolk statues, one missing a head, the other a right hand, but their long tails and finely detailed scales still identified the carvers.

Behind the statues was a giant gateway.

The gateway was grand enough to guard the entire valley, one had to look up to behold its entirety. The gate was opened just a crack, but that was wide enough to allow four or five people to pass side by side. It was over a meter thick, leaving one to wonder by what means such a massive object could have been carved.

Above the giant gateway, there was an opening, but the structure was largely intact, with a huge relief clearly visible even after thousands of years. On either side of the cliff were also reliefs depicting the ancient glory of this empire.

This wasn’t Fang Hong’s first time seeing the Serpentfolk’s reliefs. There was a lot of relevant information about it in the community. Above the gateway, the stars that descended from the central sky looked like comets. Named Andron, the tail of the Dust World Serpent, the chief god in the Xinsas pantheon.

The Numelin Elves called it the form of Calamity, because a scholar believed it was Verdant, but from the depiction of the Serpentfolk in the murals, it didn’t seem to signal an apocalyptic disaster.

But the Serpentfolk did indeed regard Andron, the Dust World Serpent, as a symbol of life and death, embodying a cycle.

Thus, on the mural, one side depicted life and the other death, the left side showing the rise of Xinsas, the right the end of the first epoch.

Limited data proved that Eteliria’s first epoch ended with the second Calamity, Verdant’s arrival, possibly a meteorite from the sky or something else. It not only sank Aithelin but also brought Dark Creatures.

But although the Xinsas Serpentfolk left this prophecy about the end of the epoch, their empire itself had disintegrated mid-way through the first epoch, what they experienced remains unknown even today.

Fang Hong looked to his left, where the empire emerged from a dark fire, which was the Serpentfolk’s Throne of Fire. Being cold-blooded, the Serpentfolk worshipped fire fervently, then came the division of the seven kings. These are a few events that the few advanced scholars on Eteliria and Earth could confirm, followed by endless, unverifiable wars.

Until the empire was utterly obliterated.

”Below lies an ancient pathway that traverses the subterranean remnants of the Serpent People Empire, reaching the other end of the valley. There lies the Dragon’s Nest, the Trial Grounds of Peru Holy Valley,” Lonely White Field said as he gazed at the gateway.

”Is there anything beneath those ruins?” Fang Hong asked.

Lonely White Field shook his head, ”It’s just a passageway; I’ve been there myself. Some say there is another path leading even deeper underground, but I’ve never seen it.”

He glanced at the gateway, ”Perhaps there is. Actually, the underground trial grounds beneath the ruins of Peru Holy Valley is also a vast subterranean space. Only a small area has truly been explored by people. In deeper places, no one can say for sure what exists.”

”Perhaps it’s the Dead Silence Zone, or perhaps a long-slumbering deity. Some have heard strange whispering down there, but those who return speak of different things,”

”A long-slumbering deity?” Fang Hong asked, ”Are you referring to that resurrected deity of the Lizardmen? I heard an adventure group discovered its corpse underground, and then the body vanished without a trace. No one really knows if Sarus has truly been revived.”

”It’s a matter from more than ten years ago, older than me; who knows?” Lonely White Field responded, ”But the legend of a Serpentfolk deity in the depths of Fenris has been around for a long time. It originated from an ancient Serpent clan at Saint Hugon Corner. It’s said that the Night Lizard People are here searching for it.”

”You know,” he continued, ”Their religious traditions are actually quite consistent with the Serpentfolk. Some say they were once slaves of the Serpent People Empire.”

”Then wouldn’t they miss the life of a slave?” Fang Hong asked incredulously.

Lonely White Field simply spread his hands.

Eteliria was just such a world, filled with bizarre legends. The remnants of two epochs had left behind many unsolved mysteries here.

As rumors were passed on, exaggerated, and amplified, some became unbelievable, but who dares say that behind an absurd legend there isn’t a grain of truth?

Fang Hong glanced at Lonely White Field. He had previously mentioned some issues about the battle at Pegasus Bridge, and he was unclear how the other party felt about it. People generally care about their failures because he also didn’t know if the other might be somewhat dissatisfied.

But Lonely White Field appeared indifferent, as if unbothered by anything.

After a while, he finally spoke, ”Grant sent me to tell you about our situation with the Blood Oath Alliance.”

These words finally confirmed to Fang Hong the purpose of his visit.

”I am also curious,” he said, ”What exactly happened?”

”It’s a long story,” Lonely White Field replied, his expression somewhat somber. He seemed aware of the guild’s situation, but what could awareness do? Situations like the Rain Listener Club’s higher echelons vanishing had happened in the past. The reasons varied, but for the guilds within Eteliria, the outcome was invariably the same.

In cases like the Rain Listener Club, which was rather unusual, after cutting off contact with the outside clubs, the guilds in the First World still maintained relative integrity and independence. Normally, the Super Competitive League should have shown up by now. To audit guild assets, either to freeze or to sell them.

Unless the Rain Listener Club wasn’t bankrupting, or perhaps the investors simply hadn’t pursued the matter, but that seemed implausible, and was exactly why Fang Hong was confused.

However, Lonely White Field did not immediately dive into this issue, only asking, ”Do you remember what you told me before?”

Fang Hong paused, ”Which part?”

”R, do you still remember him?”

Fang Hong nodded.

He met this person on the community platform about three years ago, whose ID was just the single letter R. By a stroke of luck, that person had taught him numerous skills, including many related to Combat Artisans.

He was actually grateful because if not for that chance encounter, he might not have been able to self-learn and become a member of the Kapuka Artisan Apprentice after becoming a stowaway. His basic understanding of Combat Artisans was mostly formed during that period.

But initially, he hadn’t considered that this simple ID would link back to a battle he knew from ten years ago. That two users of the same ID on the internet could be the same person.

It was also during a chance discussion about the battle at Pegasus Bridge that he vaguely confirmed this, although that person had never admitted it openly.

He looked at Lonely White Field, curious to hear what he had to say, as he was also filled with curiosity about that person—not just because of everything from ten years ago but because it was that person who had revealed his unique talent in spatial perception.

He wanted to know more, why after mentioning this the person had suddenly disappeared without saying goodbye.

…