Pillar of Yita

In the dark environment of the mining tunnel, the gray-white light of the Illumination Crystal illuminated a not-so-large area, showing fine crystal sand within the rock layers, and not far away was a cluster of poor-quality quartz pillars. Water marks were seeping down from the ceiling of the tunnel, resembling the shadow of a curtain.

At the junction of light and darkness, beneath a cluster of giant quartz pillars, Miss Natural Historian knelt with a silver Magic Guided Book placed on her gathered knees. She glanced at her glasses lightly, while using her hands to annotate repeatedly on the Magic Guided Book.

Not far away, Miss Priestess was bowing her head, muttering something under her breath. She suddenly halted, raised her head, and observed the Musketeer, Archer, and Imperial Guard Swordsman digging pits at the other end of the cave, continuously transporting the sand to another cave and burying it. Their intertwined shadows moved across the wall.

It was precisely at this moment that everyone’s Communication Crystal simultaneously shone.

The dark red light appeared in the darkness only for an instant before quickly dimming.

Everyone lowered their heads simultaneously for a glance—it was time. They all shifted their gaze towards Fang Hong. Fang Hong, without a word, unplugged the tube connected to his Magic Guided Reactor from the Construct before him, gently lifted his Wind Goggles, and finally swept his gaze around.

He also silently reviewed his plan in his mind.

Only then did he look at the others. ”Are you ready?” Fang Hong’s tone was very calm, like the plain light of the Illumination Crystal, almost without any ripples. But his heart was not calm; just a few months ago, they were almost wiped out by an Elite Corps from Tabopolis in the Dolifen Fantasy, and it was only through sheer luck—using the Ring of Golden Flame—that they successfully resolved the incident.

And back then, the Dragon Worship Sect was secretly liaising with the Dragonfire Guild, and the person who orchestrated this incident was none other than the character codenamed ’Messenger.’ It can even be said that this person had a pivotal role in that plan.

Therefore, Fang Hong remembered this person vividly and felt deeply apprehensive.

He had indeed faced the opponent once in the underground of the Great Holy Temple, but did not truly engage, because the opponent had bad luck and died at the hands of Nikopolas. However, this doesn’t mean the opponent is easy to deal with; he could easily replicate the situation then due to not being on par with the Shadow of Nicopolis within the Dolifen Fantasy.

In the face of absolute strength, schemes and conspiracies have no place to hide, but he also does not have absolute strength.

Not only that, but now the opponent’s level is even higher than his, Level 25, a full ten levels above him, and perhaps even has BOSS attributes.

In Eteliria, not every high-level character can be termed as a BOSS. What distinguishes true Lord Level characters from others is exactly the power template on them.

This is somewhat akin to the ritual on Fang Hong; in Eteliria, there are many such sources of power from higher existences—such as if this person is truly a Lord template, his power likely derives from the Dark Saints worshipped by the Dragon Worship Sect—the Evil Gods will grant their higher believers some benefits, strengthening their power while enticing them to fall further.

Of course, for Dragon Worshippers, such power may also come from the Dark Giant Dragon, or even directly from Nikopolas. But whichever it is, it only demonstrates the opponent’s strength.

Thus, how dare Fang Hong be careless?

He chose to take action because he saw the possibility of success, but after all, it’s still just a possibility, not certain. Man proposes, but God disposes, leaving Fang Hong inevitably uneasy at heart.

But rarely did he show this unease externally.

Thus the others could only see a blank expression on half of his face. Almost everyone was already aware of the outside situation, lacking confidence, but at least having courage, they nodded silently one after another.

”Then let’s proceed according to the plan.”

...

Under the ’Messenger’s’ instruction, Mountain Kou Ke effortlessly picked the Communication Crystal from Little Fatty’s neck like picking a grain of sand, and tossed it onto the snow—snap, ’Messenger’ stomped on it, crushing it to dust.

Dark red light flickered momentarily on the shattered pieces of the Crystal Pendant.

He glanced down before looking up at Little Fatty, held upside down by Mountain Kou Ke gripping his calves, his nose bruised and swollen, dangling back and forth in mid-air. The troll sniffed over him with its sharp, long, ugly nose, displaying a greedy and voracious demeanor.

But before receiving his ’master’s’ orders, this giant creature still behaved submissively, not daring any untoward action.

”Whom were you contacting?”

The Messenger asked coldly.

Little Fatty dared not respond, only guiltily glanced at the young Captain.

The Messenger followed his gaze and believed it. He snorted in disdain, these Holy Choosers thought their little tricks were so clever, yet he actually knew them even better than these individuals themselves.

Unlike those old relics, he had interacted too much with these people—and he had mastered quite a bit of information about some things from the opponent’s world. Moreover, these people were not particularly alert toward this fact; they seemed to hold a peculiar superiority over their world.

”...Self-important, a confused arrogance.” The Messenger thought, ”These people fundamentally do not grasp the essence of power, do not understand what eternal means, Holy Choosers are only so-so...”

Nonetheless, this chubby fellow still had some use, he signaled Mountain Kou Ke to put him down, lest this annoying little fatty die of cerebral hemorrhage.