Chương 100: A Nightmare Born of Greed

We gathered around when the three pearls were put in the satchel, deciding to find a safer place first and check them later. We still wanted to speak to the dead of the clan and see if anyone else lived in that ruined city, but we never got the chance. he moment the three pearls came close together and hit each other, something ancient woke in them. Since all three had drunk enough Animo through the battles, deaths, and raw power poured into them over time, they were now fully charged.

The shattered pieces of the ancient artifact, connecting again and routing in as one, suddenly activated. Blinding rainbow light tore out of the satchel. The markings 一, 二, and 三 burned at full intensity. The air warped, and reality ripped like cloth. A suction grabbed us like an invisible hand on the soul, tearing my body through space as the world spun into an endless dark. Screams echoed around me.

We were falling through the heart of a storm, a cold, disorienting, and terrifying sensation, as if the universe itself had opened its throat and swallowed us whole. We landed hard on our asses in a Rift Cave. It was vast and otherworldly, a colossal underground chamber that seemed to stretch forever into the dark. The walls were not rock; instead, shifting crystalline formations pulsed with a faint, ethereal light, resembling veins of glowing energy like living circuits of the world.

Massive stalactites hung from the ceiling like ancient fangs, some as thick as houses, dripping a strange luminous liquid that never quite reached the ground. The floor was uneven, littered with jagged obsidian shards, while patches of glowing moss threw an eerie blue-green light across the expanse. A strong, constant gush of wind howled through the cavern, carrying whispers that sounded almost like distant voices or forgotten memories.

The air was thick and heavy with raw Animo, making it hard to breathe, as if the cave itself was alive and watching us. The moment we tried to regain our footing after that sudden shift of location, the reason for our split became clear. When the satchel tore open and the three pearls screamed with rainbow light, the most powerful among us jumped on them immediately. They did not do it to steal, but rather to stop the mechanism from activating.

Mo seized one, Cao Liangze seized another, and Dirty Finger, our leader Zhuofing, locked his gauntlet around the last. They thought if they broke the connection mid-pull, the rift would die right then and there. It did not die. It swallowed us anyway. We landed in the Rift Cave already separated, each of those three leaders still gripping a pearl in a completely different pocket of darkness.

The rest of us were left scattered blindly between them, with no light to guide our path except for the cave's own glowing veins. Inside the Rift Cave dwelled an Emperor that I had heard of all my life in whispered reverence, a creature I had deeply feared back during my days as a miner. Today, I met one entirely against my will: a very old Dragon. It seemed it was nesting here. Its immense body showed the heavy passage of centuries, carrying an ancient countenance that demanded dread.

The once brilliant coloration of its hide had long since faded, leaving its colossal scales looking dull and less colorful, bleached by time into a uniform, stony pallor that matched the dead depths of the world. A thick, tangled grey beard hung heavily from its massive lower jaw, swaying like ash with every low rumble that vibrated through its chest.

Its fire, which was not fire in a physical sense but a spiritual, pure, sacred, and purifying flame that burned the soul itself like holy, divine judgment, shot out across the cavern. The blast forced us to jump toward different locations as it hit, threatening to burn any of us to ashes. Because of that strike, we were scattered in different directions, running from a massive dragon in total darkness with nothing but a strong gush of wind to guide us. We ran aimlessly through the shadows.

Some were instantly killed by its massive claws or crushing bites, but in the chaos, we had no way of knowing how many companions we had lost. Our leaders, the mentor, and his pupil fought the dragon in an epic clash, everyone unleashing their Vestuto despite already being heavily weakened from the latest battle. The old Dragon was a colossal beast, its scales ancient and still shimmering with a metallic sheen that reflected the faint glowing veins in the cave walls.

Its eyes burned with a primordial intelligence, and its spiritual fire erupted from its maw in waves of white-gold light that seared everything it touched. Mo charged first in his three-meter earth Panda form, his massive energized claws slashing violently at the dragon's side to attempt to hold it at bay, though his efforts seemed entirely in vain.

"For all who fell to its attack!" he roared, his voice echoing through the chamber like thunder, fully knowing this was a desperate man's struggle against a wall made by nature itself. The dragon retaliated with a sweeping strike from its wing-like membranes, sending Mo crashing heavily into a house-sized stalactite.

Mo rose once again, bloodied but unyielding in his desperation, his stone armor cracking under the pressure but holding firm as he drove his massive fists straight into the beast's underbelly, all in an effort to buy us time to try to find a way out of here, somewhere where the beast could not follow. The mentor Cao Liangze and his pupil fought with desperate fury. Mo was still under the beast's belly, scratching at best. The dragon used its immense body and slammed the panda-form heavily into the ground.

Then its massive tail came down directly for his eyes. Mo screamed and beat at it with almost no strength left, but the tail crushed through. Brain smeared, and only a corpse remained. The dragon threw what was left of his broken body at the others. Vestutos burned bright in the dark as they threw their absolute best attacks.

"How can this be?!" Cao shouted, manic with excitement.

"An old man gets the fights he's been dreaming of all his life, twice in a row!" His earth power-suit slammed into the dragon's neck while his pupil tried desperately to keep up. The spiritual fire grazed the boy, searing not his flesh but his Animo itself, causing him to scream in absolute agony. Qixian and Woushal's son reached the battlefield moments later, raw grief and rage carrying them into the fray.

Qixian's Darkness Wings Vestuto sludged through the shadows, allowing her to strike from blind spots that the old Emperor could no longer cover. Woushi fought with wet fire in his eyes, his water rings spinning incredibly hard.

"For Survival!" he screamed, and attacked. I made it onto the open field later, shaking for the first time like I had never done before. The Emperor's fully overgrown might was simply too much for me, and I could only take small, faltering steps toward it. Its overwhelming presence held me under such a strong grip that I could barely comprehend how the others were still able to move. Then, I saw all the dead scattered across the cavern floor.

The sight filled my brain, driving me forward into an enraged, hopeless, and desperate run. The feeling felt deeply reminiscent of my struggles against Siegfried, and I knew in my subconscious that this would turn out exactly the same. It was completely useless. Yet, a man has to relieve his frustration and cannot simply let it build up within himself, or it will completely break his mind. The more and more incoming mercenaries all helped, and even Houshou finally showed more of his true skill.

A powerful B-rank aura flared to life around him. His heavy blows actually staggered the dragon, doing more damage than anyone else in our current group could manage. He was the sole reason we finally forced the old Emperor into acknowledgement. Ancient or not, hidden here to hibernate out its last years, the dragon was caught off guard as Houshou's raw power and precision completely turned the final moments of the clash. Then the dragon used its spiritual fire again and again.

Massive beams covered so much of the open field that we had no choice but to scatter into holes to survive as our survival instincts took over our desperation. Many mercenaries burned to ash on the spot, their souls seared away into the dark cave amidst horrifying screams and the scent of scorched flesh. It was a chaotic mess of Vestuto roars against ancient power, and still it felt entirely useless.

Doushingu died in the dragon's latest resort, a terrifying rampage of spiritual flame that engulfed him completely and marked his remains with Mo´s corpse in the cave forever. With the pupil dead, the Emperor annoyed at the state in the cave decided this nesting ground was finished. It took flight, soaring out into the deep darkness and disappearing entirely from the cavern light. That was a clear testament to how powerful Emperors truly were.

After its disappearance, Houshou walked over and took Mo's pearl from the fresh, shining corpse. Then, he finally revealed his real name: Shohuo. He was the very man who had taken in Bao, the same Bao who would later become Overlord Number 21, Zhai Zhu Bao. Shohuo himself was the former Overlord Number 11, now retired because he claimed he was simply too old to keep carrying the heavy bandit legacy. Then came the next shock. The old man mercenary, Qilianchi, was not an old man at all.

It was actually Qijian the fast cat, who had been cosplaying the entire time. She explained her deception after the final echoes of the fight died down. She had returned with the coin from her latest mission, selling drugs in Zhenhai, only to witness the tragic death of her Overlord. She had taken his dead ring, the sacred Overlord ring, and brought it directly to the one man Master Bao had respected most: Former Overlord Shohuo.

She did not know why, but she had gone deep into the Bamboo Forest until finding the old shack house and bringing the bloody ring, explaining as much as she knew to the old man in his nineties. He still looked well enough despite his hunched back, his face filled with deep scars, and his thin, ravaged body. His hair was cut short with a Norwood receding hairline in a dark black color, while his beard was trimmed short into a full beard with his mustache being longer, protruding outward in a unique zigzag form.

He stood completely still, though the air around him began to hum with a quiet, dangerous vibration. His eyes remained fixed on the bloody ring in her palm, his voice dropping into a chilling, measured whisper.

"So that is what became of Bao," he murmured, his face tight as he mapped out the pieces of the puzzle in his mind.

"They think they can slaughter my legacy and walk away. They are fools. I will find the absolute truth of who orchestrated this, and I will have my blood for it." He slowly looked up, his gaze turning toward the deep expanses of the forest where the pearls were held. A cold, hungry ambition settled over his scarred features.

"But first, their little crusade ends here," he continued, a dark smile playing at the edge of his trimmed beard.

"The Body Art of Wujiren-Dao is far too precious to leave in the hands of children. It belongs to me now, with that i can regain my youth and restart my Legacy." He muscled his thin body a bit and took out a Bamboo Lang Xian, a Wolf Brush. This deceptively elegant weapon was forged from ancient spirit bamboo and shaped like a long wolf-hair calligraphy brush, whose living branches writhed like hungry wolves.

They greedily stole Animo from any foe they pierced or grazed, instantly replenishing and converting it into the wielder's own power while rapidly healing their wounds for as long as the brush remained in their grasp. He attacked us immediately, as the old man wanted the other pearls for himself. The mentor, furious about his lost pupil, recognized the man before him and knew his strength went far beyond normal limits, prompting him to launch a counterattack.

Both masters smacked-talked each other as their explosive duel drifted somewhere else into the cavern, allowing the rest of us to regroup. I took advantage of the distraction, as I was the closest one standing to him, to lead our group away from the danger zone. I carried the weakened Dirty Finger, our leader Zhuofing, on my shoulder. His raw survival instinct had kicked in at the last second, allowing him to be only grazed by the dragon's devastating beam, which was the only reason he survived.

However, his mental state was completely shattered, which made perfect sense after what he had witnessed. Still, our current situation desperately required us to see our usual leader back at the helm of things, not a broken man in dire need of saving. I knew deep down that out of all of us, he was the only one truly capable of defeating that ancient master. But before we could escape, the cat-thieving girl moved to block our path.

Xhife, his sister, and several others wanted to stay behind to buy us time, but I decided that I would stay and fight her alone. I was the healthiest out of everyone remaining, and time was of the essence for the wounded to hide deeper in the section and regenerate as much as they could. And so, I fought the young woman. The battle was intense and completely equal because she already knew exactly how I fought from observing my previous training.

But that was perfectly fine with me; I took it as a thrilling challenge. Suddenly, she unleashed her Wind Attribute Vestuto, turning her armor into a sleek, agile feline form. Claws extended from her fingernails, granting her a reach capable of delivering cuts and slashes fifteen centimeters deep, and her razor-sharp claws were notoriously hard to break. The claws on her sandals also enlarged, allowing her to hang effortlessly from the ceilings or scale the walls.

She ran on all fours, her extreme agility and flexible body movements granting her a massive tactical advantage on the battlefield. But even with all of that, I ultimately struggled. Because she knew nearly all of my skills, she successfully dodged my Elsa di Fuoco three times. She was about to beat me, forcing me onto the defensive as she dropped from above and clawed her way down. I stood up from that continuous onslaught, shaking her off and turning to face her.

In that desperate moment, I subconsciously activated my Ignis Ardente, catching her face with quicker speed with a aura blast and burning it severely, which deeply injured her eye. I still could not replicate the technique afterward, but that single outcome allowed me to gain the upper hand. I pinned her down and stabbed her throat until her head was completely severed, rolling down the incline of the field where we fought and sealing my victory.

I turned back toward where the others were hiding to find them, limping heavily as I was in desperate need of healing myself. Suddenly, the old man emerged from the shadows. It seemed our mentor, Cao Liangze, had perished in their duel. The ancient master returned without his weapon, meaning the mentor had managed to destroy the dangerous Wolf Brush before he died. Yet, the old man was still in a remarkably healthy state.

He took in the scene and walked leisurely, executing bizarre, happy kicks, tapping his heels together with a distinct clapping sound as he moved. Before I could find a secure place to rest and recover, the old man lunged forward and grabbed me tightly by the throat. He took a long, scrutinizing look at me and began dragging me along. I tried punching and kicking him with everything I had left, but my resistance was entirely futile.

My Animo was low, far too low to even scratch a man whose spirit level was so incredibly far ahead of mine. The old monster threw his head back, laughing happily as his eyes locked onto the massive stone portal.

"Look at this beauty," he cackled, running a scarred finger along the ancient stone.

"Molded perfectly for the prize." He reached into his robes and pressed the first pearl into its designated slot. It clicked home, pulsing with a faint, sudden energy. I thrashed against his grip, kicking wildly and driving my fists into his reinforced armor.

"Let me go, you old bastard!" I yelled, my voice raw as I swung at his face. The old man barely flinched. He looked down at me with pure annoyance, his grip tightening around my throat until my breaths came in ragged gasps.

"Suren you are a persistent little insect, aren't you?" he growled, his smile vanishing.

"Quiet down. Your struggling is getting tiresome." Before I could swing again, he hoisted me up by my collar and pitched me forward with terrifying, effortless strength.

"Have a closer look at the mechanism!" he shouted. My body slammed violently into the heavy metal gears of the gate structure. The brutal impact shuddered through my spine, and everything instantly turned pitch black as I rolled onto the stone floor, completely unconscious. The ancient master didn't even bother to look back at my unmoving form. He adjusted his dark blue armor and turned his gaze toward the shadows of the cavern.

"Now then," he muttered to himself, a wicked grin returning to his scarred face.

"Time to hunt down the rest of your pathetic little friends and getting the remaining pearl." With a swift, heavy stride, he disappeared into the dark corridors to finish the slaughter. When I awoke three minutes later, the chaotic sounds of battle echoed through the darkness. I crawled on all fours toward the noise of the combat, witnessing a horrific scene. The remaining forces were trying desperately to hold the old monster back while he was in his Vestuto form, but it was to absolutely no avail.

The hired mercenaries were being slaughtered, and even our two named vagabonds, Feiyuan and Huolei, fell in the carnage. Forcing myself to my feet by leaning against the support of the rough cave wall, I screamed out to our companions, demanding they throw the remaining pearls to me. The broken Leader heard my shout and tried to pivot to stop it, but he was already locked too deeply in combat with the survivors. Someone tossed the remaining artifacts across the chamber.

I failed to catch both cleanly in the air, securing only one before slamming onto the ground to scoop up the last pearl from the dirt. Slowly and painfully, I made my way back to the grand gate. The old man was forced to fight Dirty Finger, our leader Zhuofing, who openly mocked the ancient master by declaring he was the exact reason Bao had died. The taunt successfully enraged the old man for a split second, but he quickly calmed his mind and rushed madly toward the gate to stop me.

I slammed the final pearls into the remaining slots just in time, and the gate ground open on its own. From the heavy darkness within the portal, an ancient message echoed directly into our minds, presenting a clear, shocking option: leave or stay. I was stunned. I had initially thought I could leverage the legendary Body Art to save us all from our doom, but instead, the universe granted every survivor the telepathic choice to either escape or remain.

Knowing the old man was an unstoppable monster and that we stood zero chance in a fight, I immediately chose to leave. It seemed the vast majority of our surviving comrades made the exact same choice, as it was the only sensible option available to us. That choice turned out to be our salvation, because the ancient master chose to stay behind. In the next instant, we found ourselves outside the cave on the mountaintop, standing before a long ladder that led right back down into the depths.

Suddenly, a chorus of screams erupted from the abyss, so incredibly loud that we could hear the sheer terror echoing all the way up to our position. Dirty Finger, resting in a heavily weakened and battered state, looked at the entrance and finally realized the bitter truth. He whispered that we should have never shown our base greed toward the Art.

The creator of the Wujiren-Dao had obviously placed a supreme guardian inside the rift to test anyone who approached, and that guardian was a celestial-like force far too powerful to comprehend. Without even laying eyes on it, everyone on the surface could feel the oppressive, terrifying presence radiating from the deep. The ladder inside the Rift Cave did not lead to a treasure room; it was the hunting ground of a monstrous guardian.

We had lost so much blood, so many legendary leaders, and so many companions, yet we had gained absolutely nothing from the Art. But as the others despaired, I argued against them. I told them that we had indeed gained something invaluable: our lives. With our minds completely broken and exhausted by the trauma, we all nodded in quiet agreement to let this quest be abandoned forever.

We swore never to covet this over-challenging challenge again, realizing too late that it was for no one, but a pure death trap designed to swallow souls. We then agreed to leave the current mountain peak, trying to descend the slopes until we could find a small, quiet tavern. It would be a place where we could take our much-needed rest, huddling together in the shadows, trapped in a collective nightmare about the unimaginable horror down in the dark that was currently tearing the old man apart.