Pillar of Yita

The noise of those people banging the iron gate was thunderous, shaking the entire corridor, sending sand trickling down from the ceiling. Fang Hong glanced upward and pulled up his hood. As he was pondering, the iron gate burst open with a loud bang.

The people outside did not expect someone to be behind the gate and, screaming like they’d seen a ghost, took a big step back. The others were startled, but upon seeing someone behind the gate, they all raised their weapons, shouting, ”Are you a human or a ghost? How did you end up back here?”

Only then did Fang Hong get a clear look at these people. The one banging the gate was a Little Fatty, dressed like a warrior, with an old Type 104 Magic Guided Reactor hanging from his belt. People carrying such reactors generally don’t exceed Level 8 unless, like him, they haven’t yet upgraded it.

However, Fang Hong knew his situation was rare, and it was likely the warrior was the latter case.

Beside the Little Fatty were two swordsmen. One had a prismatic-shaped shield emblem on his chest armor, indicating he was an Imperial Guard Swordsman from the Purple Heart Knights. This native organization held significant strength in the northern regions of the Kudi Mountain Range, possessing several exclusive swordsman and knight professions, making them popular among the Invokers in this area.

The other swordsman had a musket on his hip, indicating he was either a Dragon Cavalry or a Musketeer. Fang Hong’s first impression was that he was a musketeer, similar to Bakins.

Behind the two swordsmen stood a Ranger. Tall and slender with delicate features, the Avenquin Elf was also a Chosen one—race hence was just a matter of talent and appearance.

Yet, among everyone, they seemed the calmest, holding a bow and arrow without saying a word.

Lastly, there was a Priestess with long black hair—a Tier 2 Healer profession, nervously gripping her Priest Staff in front of her. Even though there were several companions ahead of her.

There were five people in total. Fang Hong observed that the group’s reactions weren’t particularly skilled, potentially even less so than him. He opened his hands to show he meant no harm and asked, ”Where did you come from?”

The five looked at him suspiciously and uncertainly.

To be fair, he was a bit intimidating—his hood was pulled down low to ward off dust, obscuring his face—his Alchemist’s Coat had intersecting slashes on the front, stained with blood, torn into strips at the sleeves, revealing a pair of metal gloves glinting with cold light.

More bizarrely, a twisted Undead Sorcerer’s Staff was tied at a slant on his back.

In every aspect, he didn’t look like a good person.

”Wh-wh-who are you?” the Little Fatty stammered.

Fang Hong was about to answer when he suddenly stepped out of the gate, pushing the Little Fatty aside, and gravely looked in a direction. Even though the Little Fatty was a warrior, he was caught off guard and stumbled from the shove.

The group was frightened, raising their weapons to encircle him, afraid he might make any further moves.

Fang Hong merely turned back, raised a finger to his lips, and gestured them to silence. ”Someone’s coming,” he whispered.

”What?”

”How do you know...”

The five exchanged glances, finally understanding that he was an Adventurer, not some Cultist or an Undead Creature.

Only the archer seemed to want to warn about something, but Fang Hong wordlessly pointed to the ground, where the direction they came from was a pool of water—in the darkness, under the light of the Illumination Crystal in Fang Hong’s hand, ripples were spreading across the dark water surface.

Witnessing this, the group became tense, realizing that something was pursuing them in the darkness. ”It’s those things, they’re following us,” someone said in a low voice.

The others fell silent simultaneously, holding their breath, forming a battle formation, raising their swords and longbows towards where they had come from. Fang Hong thought their reactions were somewhat proper, better than Lan Wuxin’s group he encountered on a stormy night.

However, their average Level was higher after all—

Fang Hong himself wasn’t much higher in Level than these people. When it came to adventurous experiences, he might even have less, having instead honed his nerves through experiences with Dolifen and Fenris, making it difficult for average scenarios to stir much emotion in him anymore.

He sent a message through the communication channel. At such a close distance, the Communication Crystal could still work.

He then extinguished his Illumination Crystal. Turning back to the five, he signaled them to do the same: ”Turn off the Illumination Crystals.”

”No way,” the Priestess shook her head repeatedly, frowning, ”They have Dark Vision; we’ll be at a disadvantage in the dark.”

But Fang Hong wasn’t looking for their approval. He swung his hand, his metal glove striking the Illumination Crystal held by the Imperial Guard Swordsman, sending it flying and shattering.

The cave plunged into darkness, where one couldn’t see their hand in front of their face.

”What are you doing!?” the Imperial Guard Swordsman shouted angrily.

But Fang Hong did not answer. Past experiences underground had left him with some reflection. If he continued being so reckless—perhaps one day he’d suffer a great loss. Miss Sicape had also mentioned this before.

While the Sorcerer-Ghoul was tricky, he actually had enough experience that if he had been more cautious beforehand, he might not have found himself and Gita in such a passive situation during the battle. He couldn’t always hope someone would save him; Miss Tata and Daisy were just lucky not to have been discovered by the Sorcerer-Ghoul, but would there be such good fortune next time?