Chapter 168: The Bastion's Echo
The patrol vehicle tore through the thick gray fog, speeding relentlessly toward the main defense line of the West Bastion.
The closer they got to the bastion, the fainter the corrosive breath lingering over the wasteland became, replaced by a distinct mixture of gunpowder smoke, machine oil, and disinfectant. In the distance, the colossal silhouette of the concrete bastion, stretching across the horizon, emerged under the murky skylight. Dozens of meters high, the wall was densely packed with artillery emplacements and oscillation launchers. Lines of warning perimeters extended outward from the base of the wall, with overlapping layers of barbed wire resembling the spines of a slumbering giant beast.
This was humanity's final barrier on the Western Front, and the place countless people had risked everything to return to.
The lights at the inspection post beside the outpost gate burned continuously. After the patrol vehicle stopped, military police immediately approached to verify their identities. When Chen Ye handed over the waterproof chip containing the intelligence on Rift No. 79, along with the curse-mark fragments of the Ancient Progeny Elder, the expression of the officer on duty instantly turned grave. Bypassing the standard, slow registration process, he directly activated the highest-priority green channel.
"Intelligence classified as Grade A. Report to the War Zone Command Center immediately. The medical team is to prioritize receiving the injured," the officer commanded loudly.
The injured team members in the cabin were immediately carried away on stretchers, rushing toward the emergency corridor connecting the outpost to the interior of the bastion. The vital signs of the poisoned, unconscious team member remained unstable. The medical officer shouted as he walked, urgently requesting the rare anti-corrosion serum from the bastion's general hospital. The information of the fallen comrade was simultaneously entered into the casualty ledger, the name recorded in black and white—one of the countless lives that had silently faded away in this prolonged war of attrition.
Lin Yan, Chen Ye, and the remaining two team members were taken to an isolation recovery cabin.
According to war zone regulations, anyone who had ventured deep into a rift and been exposed to high-intensity illusion web radiation for an extended period had to undergo a Sea of Consciousness scan and psychic screening first. This was to prevent the Ancient Progeny from having planted hidden psychic hooks, bringing back imperceptible psychic contamination.
The small cabin was bathed in soft light. A head-mounted Sea of Consciousness detector was pressed against Lin Yan's temples, the cold probes vibrating slightly as streams of data scrolled across the screen. The female instructor in charge of the examination stared at the screen, her frown deepening by the second.
"A native fissure in the Sea of Consciousness, compounded by multiple external impacts and agent overdrafts, resulting in continuous, hidden damage to your origin," she said, turning to look at Lin Yan with a heavy tone. "You were too reckless. Injecting strong-dose stabilization agents twice in a row, forcibly enduring the Elder's illusion array impact, and then finally exploding your origin for close-quarters combat... This kind of damage cannot be erased by short-term rest. If you continue to overdraw like this, the fissure will keep expanding. In severe cases, it will directly cause permanent Sea of Consciousness collapse."
Lin Yan lowered his eyes, offering no defense.
Back in the karst cavern, there had been no other choice. The entire squad had lost their combat capability, and the intelligence was at risk of being buried with them in the depths of the earth. He had to gamble.
"I'm prescribing basic Sea of Consciousness nourishing agents, a one-month course. You are strictly prohibited from actively catalyzing your Sea of Consciousness for cultivation, and you are forbidden from taking on high-risk missions," the instructor said, turning off the instrument and handing him a recovery receipt. "You are only at the third tier right now; your foundation isn't even stable. The Sea of Consciousness is our most core asset against the Ancient Progeny, not a chip to be gambled away recklessly. Many cultivators with great talent have fought against the illusion web's impacts one too many times, only to become 'mindless ones,' locked away in the bastion's psychic isolation wards."
Chen Ye was in the adjacent screening cabin. His injuries were primarily physical; his Sea of Consciousness had only suffered superficial oscillation and lacked the deep, hidden damage Lin Yan had sustained. After finishing his screening, he walked over, saw the diagnostic conclusion on the receipt, and let out a long sigh: "I told you earlier that going head-to-head with the Elder was too risky. The intelligence was brought back, but you've dragged yourself down like this."
"If the intelligence couldn't be brought back, more people inside the bastion would die," Lin Yan said softly, the bandaged wound on his arm still throbbing dully. "The beast tides on the Western Front are relentless. Previously, the command never understood the dispatch model of Rift No. 79. We only knew it was a breeding point, unaware of the secondary priests, the rock strata anchor points, and the Elder's defense deployments. Now that this intelligence is submitted, the defense line will save the lives of many soldiers."
Following a guide, the two headed to the temporary recovery dormitories. The interior of the bastion was entirely different from the desolate rifts and wasteland. The streets were orderly, the zoning clear, with the combat academy, armory, healing center, and logistics supply area lined up sequentially. Everywhere they looked, there were wounded soldiers wrapped in bandages or leaning on crutches, as well as youths in academy uniforms undergoing combat training. The faces of everyone bore the tension forged by years of endless war; relaxation was a rare sight.
The intelligence chip had been urgently delivered to the war zone command building by a dedicated courier.
At this moment, the command center's conference room was in an uproar over the intelligence salvaged from the pile of corpses. Several high-ranking officials of the Western Front war zone, scholars from the Sea of Consciousness Research Institute, and frontline garrison commanders sat around a massive sand table. A projection cast a three-dimensional structural map of Rift No. 79 into the air, with the rock caves, incubation chambers, the rock pedestal guarded by the secondary priests, and the pre-embedded psychic anchor points deep within the rock strata all clearly marked. The karst area patrolled by the Elder was circled separately.
"So the rift's illusion web isn't driven by a single node; it's coordinated by the Elder, with secondary priests responsible for zonal dispatch, operating in a layered, hierarchical control system," a gray-haired scholar from the research institute said, pointing at the projection with a grave tone. "Our previous artillery bombardment strategy was completely wrong. Bombarding the surface entrance of the rift is useless. As long as the priests and the rock strata anchor points remain, they can quickly rebuild the illusion web and continuously release scaled beasts."
The war zone commander, sitting at the head of the table, tapped his fingers on the desktop, his gaze cold and deep: "Based on this intelligence, we can organize a targeted assault. Heavy artillery will saturate the priests' rock pedestal,配合 (coordinating) with elite squads infiltrating to destroy the incubation chambers and the core anchor points. Once Rift No. 79 is uprooted, the beast tide pressure in the central Western Front will be reduced by at least thirty percent."
A garrison general beside him shook his head slightly: "The risks are equally massive. We don't know how many branch tunnels connect to this underground rock strata. No one can guarantee that destroying Rift No. 79 won't awaken the high-tier Ancient Progeny lurking even deeper. For twenty-five years, we've only been fighting secondary priests, Elders, and scaled beasts. We have extremely few samples of the true strength of high-tier Ancient Progeny."
The debate in the conference room gradually escalated.
The radical faction advocated seizing the opportunity to take the initiative, using the intelligence advantage to break the deadlock and shatter the passive defense where humanity was constantly bleeding out. The conservative faction insisted on maintaining the existing defense line, only strengthening outpost alerts, and avoiding the risk of venturing deep into the underground rifts to prevent provoking the aliens and triggering a larger-scale beast tide across the entire front.
No one yielded easily.
The content of this debate, passing through layers of corridors, eventually reached the recovery dormitories. It was inadvertently revealed by a communications staff officer who had come to visit them.
"The higher-ups are arguing fiercely, and the plan hasn't been finalized yet," the staff officer said, leaning against the doorframe, looking exhausted. "The intelligence you brought back is a double-edged sword. It gives us a chance to break the deadlock, but it also presents a crueler fact to everyone: the system of the ancient lizard progeny underground is far more complete and orderly than we estimated. They aren't a bunch of mindless beasts; they are a civilization with distinct hierarchies and specific roles."
Lin Yan listened quietly, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the tube of the last remaining strong-dose stabilization agent in his pocket.
He had known this for a long time.
From descending the barren mountain and seeing the scaled beasts for the first time, to confronting the secondary priests underground and fighting to the death against the Karst Elder, he had long understood that the alien race didn't rely solely on numerical superiority to crush humanity. They knew how to lay ambushes, set traps, and use illusions to break human resolve. They understood hierarchical control, troop dispatch, and how to use sacrifices and traps to lure intruders.
The twenty-five-year invasion was never a beast riot; it was a war of attrition between civilizations, a fight to the death.
After the staff officer left, the dormitory fell silent.
Chen Ye leaned against the opposite bed, rubbing the bruised spot on his chest: "If the higher-ups finally decide to launch an assault, they'll most likely conscript our squad again. We are the only ones who have personally entered Rift No. 79 and are familiar with the internal terrain."
"The injured are still being treated, and our squad is already incomplete," Lin Yan said slowly, leaning back against the headboard and closing his eyes. The fissure in his Sea of Consciousness continued to emit a dull, unending pain. "Even if we have to re-enter the rift, it won't be now. At the very least, I need time to stabilize the hidden damage in my Sea of Consciousness."
He recalled the instructor's warning.
The third tier was merely the starting point. On the long cultivation path toward the ninth tier, he had only taken an insignificant first step. The higher one climbed in Sea of Consciousness cultivation, the more every step required battling the psychic power of the alien race, and every breakthrough was accompanied by life-and-death trials. And this innate fissure of his would forever be the shackle hanging over his head.
Night slowly enveloped the West Bastion.
The searchlights on the outer wall lit up one by one, their beams sweeping over the dead, gray fog-covered wasteland outside. In the distance, deep beneath the earth, muffled, low sounds still faintly echoed—the massive entities lurking underground, slowly and patiently gathering their strength.
The debate at the command center was still ongoing, with the assault plan yet to be finalized.
These few brief days of recovery were a rare respite before the storm. Following the doctor's orders, Lin Yan took the Sea of Consciousness nourishing agents on time and tried not to mobilize his psychic power. During the day, he occasionally visited the bastion's wounded soldier ward, seeing countless people who, like them, had survived returning from the rifts and the wasteland.
Some had saved their lives but suffered permanent Sea of Consciousness damage, unable to cultivate ever again; some had lost limbs and could only be transferred to logistics positions, surviving on meager resources; and far more had been left forever in the black fog outside.
That evening, Chen Ye returned with a notice and handed it to Lin Yan.
"War zone notification: our squad will remain in recovery for one week, after which we will participate in a special review report meeting to completely record and archive all the details inside Rift No. 79 through oral testimony. Additionally, the academy sent word that the Sea of Consciousness practical training courses at the combat preparation university are open as usual. If your body allows, you can go audit the classes to consolidate your foundation, but you absolutely cannot forcibly push your realm."
Lin Yan took the notice, his gaze falling on the bottom of the page.
He knew that in a week, the peace would end. Regardless of whether the command ultimately chose to take the initiative or continue to defend the line, the Ancient Progeny underground would not stop their movements. This long war was far from reaching its curtain call.
He looked out the window at the towering walls of the bastion, where the gray fog churned silently beyond.
His own battles were yet to come.
End of Chapter.
The closer they got to the bastion, the fainter the corrosive breath lingering over the wasteland became, replaced by a distinct mixture of gunpowder smoke, machine oil, and disinfectant. In the distance, the colossal silhouette of the concrete bastion, stretching across the horizon, emerged under the murky skylight. Dozens of meters high, the wall was densely packed with artillery emplacements and oscillation launchers. Lines of warning perimeters extended outward from the base of the wall, with overlapping layers of barbed wire resembling the spines of a slumbering giant beast.
This was humanity's final barrier on the Western Front, and the place countless people had risked everything to return to.
The lights at the inspection post beside the outpost gate burned continuously. After the patrol vehicle stopped, military police immediately approached to verify their identities. When Chen Ye handed over the waterproof chip containing the intelligence on Rift No. 79, along with the curse-mark fragments of the Ancient Progeny Elder, the expression of the officer on duty instantly turned grave. Bypassing the standard, slow registration process, he directly activated the highest-priority green channel.
"Intelligence classified as Grade A. Report to the War Zone Command Center immediately. The medical team is to prioritize receiving the injured," the officer commanded loudly.
The injured team members in the cabin were immediately carried away on stretchers, rushing toward the emergency corridor connecting the outpost to the interior of the bastion. The vital signs of the poisoned, unconscious team member remained unstable. The medical officer shouted as he walked, urgently requesting the rare anti-corrosion serum from the bastion's general hospital. The information of the fallen comrade was simultaneously entered into the casualty ledger, the name recorded in black and white—one of the countless lives that had silently faded away in this prolonged war of attrition.
Lin Yan, Chen Ye, and the remaining two team members were taken to an isolation recovery cabin.
According to war zone regulations, anyone who had ventured deep into a rift and been exposed to high-intensity illusion web radiation for an extended period had to undergo a Sea of Consciousness scan and psychic screening first. This was to prevent the Ancient Progeny from having planted hidden psychic hooks, bringing back imperceptible psychic contamination.
The small cabin was bathed in soft light. A head-mounted Sea of Consciousness detector was pressed against Lin Yan's temples, the cold probes vibrating slightly as streams of data scrolled across the screen. The female instructor in charge of the examination stared at the screen, her frown deepening by the second.
"A native fissure in the Sea of Consciousness, compounded by multiple external impacts and agent overdrafts, resulting in continuous, hidden damage to your origin," she said, turning to look at Lin Yan with a heavy tone. "You were too reckless. Injecting strong-dose stabilization agents twice in a row, forcibly enduring the Elder's illusion array impact, and then finally exploding your origin for close-quarters combat... This kind of damage cannot be erased by short-term rest. If you continue to overdraw like this, the fissure will keep expanding. In severe cases, it will directly cause permanent Sea of Consciousness collapse."
Lin Yan lowered his eyes, offering no defense.
Back in the karst cavern, there had been no other choice. The entire squad had lost their combat capability, and the intelligence was at risk of being buried with them in the depths of the earth. He had to gamble.
"I'm prescribing basic Sea of Consciousness nourishing agents, a one-month course. You are strictly prohibited from actively catalyzing your Sea of Consciousness for cultivation, and you are forbidden from taking on high-risk missions," the instructor said, turning off the instrument and handing him a recovery receipt. "You are only at the third tier right now; your foundation isn't even stable. The Sea of Consciousness is our most core asset against the Ancient Progeny, not a chip to be gambled away recklessly. Many cultivators with great talent have fought against the illusion web's impacts one too many times, only to become 'mindless ones,' locked away in the bastion's psychic isolation wards."
Chen Ye was in the adjacent screening cabin. His injuries were primarily physical; his Sea of Consciousness had only suffered superficial oscillation and lacked the deep, hidden damage Lin Yan had sustained. After finishing his screening, he walked over, saw the diagnostic conclusion on the receipt, and let out a long sigh: "I told you earlier that going head-to-head with the Elder was too risky. The intelligence was brought back, but you've dragged yourself down like this."
"If the intelligence couldn't be brought back, more people inside the bastion would die," Lin Yan said softly, the bandaged wound on his arm still throbbing dully. "The beast tides on the Western Front are relentless. Previously, the command never understood the dispatch model of Rift No. 79. We only knew it was a breeding point, unaware of the secondary priests, the rock strata anchor points, and the Elder's defense deployments. Now that this intelligence is submitted, the defense line will save the lives of many soldiers."
Following a guide, the two headed to the temporary recovery dormitories. The interior of the bastion was entirely different from the desolate rifts and wasteland. The streets were orderly, the zoning clear, with the combat academy, armory, healing center, and logistics supply area lined up sequentially. Everywhere they looked, there were wounded soldiers wrapped in bandages or leaning on crutches, as well as youths in academy uniforms undergoing combat training. The faces of everyone bore the tension forged by years of endless war; relaxation was a rare sight.
The intelligence chip had been urgently delivered to the war zone command building by a dedicated courier.
At this moment, the command center's conference room was in an uproar over the intelligence salvaged from the pile of corpses. Several high-ranking officials of the Western Front war zone, scholars from the Sea of Consciousness Research Institute, and frontline garrison commanders sat around a massive sand table. A projection cast a three-dimensional structural map of Rift No. 79 into the air, with the rock caves, incubation chambers, the rock pedestal guarded by the secondary priests, and the pre-embedded psychic anchor points deep within the rock strata all clearly marked. The karst area patrolled by the Elder was circled separately.
"So the rift's illusion web isn't driven by a single node; it's coordinated by the Elder, with secondary priests responsible for zonal dispatch, operating in a layered, hierarchical control system," a gray-haired scholar from the research institute said, pointing at the projection with a grave tone. "Our previous artillery bombardment strategy was completely wrong. Bombarding the surface entrance of the rift is useless. As long as the priests and the rock strata anchor points remain, they can quickly rebuild the illusion web and continuously release scaled beasts."
The war zone commander, sitting at the head of the table, tapped his fingers on the desktop, his gaze cold and deep: "Based on this intelligence, we can organize a targeted assault. Heavy artillery will saturate the priests' rock pedestal,配合 (coordinating) with elite squads infiltrating to destroy the incubation chambers and the core anchor points. Once Rift No. 79 is uprooted, the beast tide pressure in the central Western Front will be reduced by at least thirty percent."
A garrison general beside him shook his head slightly: "The risks are equally massive. We don't know how many branch tunnels connect to this underground rock strata. No one can guarantee that destroying Rift No. 79 won't awaken the high-tier Ancient Progeny lurking even deeper. For twenty-five years, we've only been fighting secondary priests, Elders, and scaled beasts. We have extremely few samples of the true strength of high-tier Ancient Progeny."
The debate in the conference room gradually escalated.
The radical faction advocated seizing the opportunity to take the initiative, using the intelligence advantage to break the deadlock and shatter the passive defense where humanity was constantly bleeding out. The conservative faction insisted on maintaining the existing defense line, only strengthening outpost alerts, and avoiding the risk of venturing deep into the underground rifts to prevent provoking the aliens and triggering a larger-scale beast tide across the entire front.
No one yielded easily.
The content of this debate, passing through layers of corridors, eventually reached the recovery dormitories. It was inadvertently revealed by a communications staff officer who had come to visit them.
"The higher-ups are arguing fiercely, and the plan hasn't been finalized yet," the staff officer said, leaning against the doorframe, looking exhausted. "The intelligence you brought back is a double-edged sword. It gives us a chance to break the deadlock, but it also presents a crueler fact to everyone: the system of the ancient lizard progeny underground is far more complete and orderly than we estimated. They aren't a bunch of mindless beasts; they are a civilization with distinct hierarchies and specific roles."
Lin Yan listened quietly, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the tube of the last remaining strong-dose stabilization agent in his pocket.
He had known this for a long time.
From descending the barren mountain and seeing the scaled beasts for the first time, to confronting the secondary priests underground and fighting to the death against the Karst Elder, he had long understood that the alien race didn't rely solely on numerical superiority to crush humanity. They knew how to lay ambushes, set traps, and use illusions to break human resolve. They understood hierarchical control, troop dispatch, and how to use sacrifices and traps to lure intruders.
The twenty-five-year invasion was never a beast riot; it was a war of attrition between civilizations, a fight to the death.
After the staff officer left, the dormitory fell silent.
Chen Ye leaned against the opposite bed, rubbing the bruised spot on his chest: "If the higher-ups finally decide to launch an assault, they'll most likely conscript our squad again. We are the only ones who have personally entered Rift No. 79 and are familiar with the internal terrain."
"The injured are still being treated, and our squad is already incomplete," Lin Yan said slowly, leaning back against the headboard and closing his eyes. The fissure in his Sea of Consciousness continued to emit a dull, unending pain. "Even if we have to re-enter the rift, it won't be now. At the very least, I need time to stabilize the hidden damage in my Sea of Consciousness."
He recalled the instructor's warning.
The third tier was merely the starting point. On the long cultivation path toward the ninth tier, he had only taken an insignificant first step. The higher one climbed in Sea of Consciousness cultivation, the more every step required battling the psychic power of the alien race, and every breakthrough was accompanied by life-and-death trials. And this innate fissure of his would forever be the shackle hanging over his head.
Night slowly enveloped the West Bastion.
The searchlights on the outer wall lit up one by one, their beams sweeping over the dead, gray fog-covered wasteland outside. In the distance, deep beneath the earth, muffled, low sounds still faintly echoed—the massive entities lurking underground, slowly and patiently gathering their strength.
The debate at the command center was still ongoing, with the assault plan yet to be finalized.
These few brief days of recovery were a rare respite before the storm. Following the doctor's orders, Lin Yan took the Sea of Consciousness nourishing agents on time and tried not to mobilize his psychic power. During the day, he occasionally visited the bastion's wounded soldier ward, seeing countless people who, like them, had survived returning from the rifts and the wasteland.
Some had saved their lives but suffered permanent Sea of Consciousness damage, unable to cultivate ever again; some had lost limbs and could only be transferred to logistics positions, surviving on meager resources; and far more had been left forever in the black fog outside.
That evening, Chen Ye returned with a notice and handed it to Lin Yan.
"War zone notification: our squad will remain in recovery for one week, after which we will participate in a special review report meeting to completely record and archive all the details inside Rift No. 79 through oral testimony. Additionally, the academy sent word that the Sea of Consciousness practical training courses at the combat preparation university are open as usual. If your body allows, you can go audit the classes to consolidate your foundation, but you absolutely cannot forcibly push your realm."
Lin Yan took the notice, his gaze falling on the bottom of the page.
He knew that in a week, the peace would end. Regardless of whether the command ultimately chose to take the initiative or continue to defend the line, the Ancient Progeny underground would not stop their movements. This long war was far from reaching its curtain call.
He looked out the window at the towering walls of the bastion, where the gray fog churned silently beyond.
His own battles were yet to come.
End of Chapter.