Pillar of Yita

Beneath the ground leading toward the ruins lay a fragmented network of caves, resembling a honeycomb. Below was an interconnected labyrinth where the stony surfaces were ashen and gloomy. Crystals that glowed hung inverted from the cavern ceilings, and in the dimness grew some moss that could survive even in the faint light, its fronds curled like a thin layer of dry carpet.

Every step on it produced a crisp rustling sound like mysterious whispers echoing in the darkness.

Fang Hong suddenly stopped in his tracks. A system notification informed him that Luo Yu had sent an email, which he opened and read aloud, his tone a bit startled, ”What? Miss Hilveld has disappeared?”

Everyone halted and turned to look at him.

Parker, who was leading the way, swung his plump hand wielding a torch vigorously as if to dispel the darkness before turning back to ask, ”What’s going on? What now? Are we nearing our destination? Thank heaven, this trial has truly been tough.”

”We’ve only been inside for five minutes,” the puerile Xiangzi responded coldly.

”What’s the matter, my human brother?” Tainaric asked softly.

”Nothing,” Fang Hong shook his head. Luo Yu’s message was abrupt and without context. He glanced at it again before asking the others, ”Do you feel like someone is secretly following us?”

Everyone shook their heads.

Doubtfully, Fang Hong turned to look at the pitch-black cave behind him, then shook his head, ”I don’t either—let’s keep moving.” Though he said this, he still detached a ’Fairy’, a delicate Construct, from his belt. It sprang open its wings in the palm of his hand and zipped into the darkness in that direction.

The group was passing through a partially collapsed grand hall, with ruins on either side, giving it a desolate feel. The torchlight was limited in scope, blending the collapsed walls into the surrounding darkness like the silent corpses of giants.

Fang Hong looked up, silently observing the place.

”Ta Sok Aralando,” Tainaric, with his scaly paws tightly clutching a double-headed spear, did the same, uttering the strange phrase with a hissing sound coming from the Lizardman Prince’s mouth.

”Majestic, magnificent,” he explained briefly.

This was one of the ancient Serpent People’s hatching holy lands, the Black Holy City, but records about it in Eteliria’s historical archives were scarce—at least regarding anything about Xinsas, the records were minimal.

Fang Hong looked at the place, slightly lost in thought.

Tainaric’s amber eyes glanced at him and asked, ”You seem to be thinking about something, my human brother.”

Fang Hong nodded, unhesitatingly replying, ”I’m thinking about what I saw earlier, that black Spire.”

He had first heard rumors about the Spire concerning the Elf Holy Grail, from an ancient song spread from Rainbow Bay, yet the true origin of which was still undiscovered. Atira’s brother, a Forest Elf living in Sanxiak, had little to do with this but joined an Adventure Group due to the hiring of a stranger, only to die in a foreign land eventually.

The cause of his death, with even the Starlight disappearing, remained a mystery.

It also involved the Dragon Worship Sect and an incident with the Dragon’s Witch a century ago, with countless entangled evidences difficult to trace to the main thread. The one behind their hire remained veiled in mystery, and it was unknown if Golande’s journey would reveal the person’s identity.

He looked down at his palm, where the metal shell of his Reinforced Gloves reflected the firelight faintly glowing, with the mark of the Hailin Crown beneath it, which he originally thought was unrelated to this chain of events.

However, Toragotos’s words had overturned his previous views, claiming that only the bearer of the Hailin Crown was qualified to touch the Obelisk, and the legend of the five Holy Relics seemed to be subtly interconnected.

Behind it lay ancient legends about a thousand years prior, the disasters of Xinsas, Numelin, and Aithelin, the Second Star of Calamity, and the Giant Serpent Tail. Fang Hong increasingly felt as if he had unwittingly entered the center of a vortex, possibly related to the Third Star of Calamity, and the Dragon Witch and Spire were merely signs of this age’s advent.

But what this truly signified, remained unknown to anyone.

What would the Third Star of Calamity bring? A disaster similar to that during Aithelin’s disaster, or a resurgence of a Dark Force? Yet the events of a thousand years ago provided no answer, for little was known about them aside from fragmented mythical stories of Giants and the Dark Giant Dragon, with little else to be found.

People didn’t even know why the Numelin Elves, who had lived through the entirety of Aithelin’s disaster, had left, nor where they went. Were they aware of another impending disaster upon Eteliria, and was that why they chose to leave?

They left behind only their Magic Guided Engineering but no words of warning about the future, just like an eternal riddle left unsolved.

Perhaps the Dragon Slayers were privy to that ancient tale.

But Mazak had last told him that humans only joined the fight against dragons late in that darker age, and though those who drank leopard’s blood received the Fairy’s favor, they could not avoid a tragic fate.

About the ancient Knowledge, aside from enduring hatred, everything else was lost through generations of internecine violence.

As for the Fairies, they too never narrated tales of the past.