Chapter 175: The Edge of the Rift
The construction zone for the blockade array was located in the buffer wasteland three kilometers from the outer perimeter of Rift No. 79.
This land had long been soaked by the constant overflow of corrosive breath. Nothing grew on the surface; the soil was a lifeless, ashen black. It felt soft and sticky underfoot, leaving footprints of varying depths with every step. The wind carried fine sand mixed with gray fog, flowing slowly across the field of vision. In the distance, the entrance to Rift No. 79 looked like a hideous gash in the earth, sinking inward in a pitch-black depression. Even from three kilometers away, the foul, rotting stench drifting up from underground was palpable.
After returning to his unit, Lin Yan was assigned to the Third Scout Rotation Squad. The squad consisted of five members. The captain, Old Zhou, was a fourth-tier Sea of Consciousness cultivator. He was highly experienced and had been responsible for reconnaissance around the outer perimeter of the rift for years. The remaining three members included two physical assault specialists and one equipment maintenance operator. Chen Ye was not assigned to the same group; he stayed on the main defense line, joining the mobile support team to provide rapid reinforcement if the blockade array came under attack.
Before their departure, Scholar Su specifically pulled Old Zhou aside to brief him on Lin Yan's condition: "His perception is sharp, but his Sea of Consciousness carries severe hidden injuries. He is strictly limited to long-range signal early warning. If the intensity of any alien psychic fluctuation exceeds the level of a secondary priest, halt the exploration immediately and evacuate everyone at once. No hesitation."
Old Zhou had reviewed Lin Yan's previous medical records. Looking serious, he patted Lin Yan's shoulder and said, "I understand. For our scout squads, the primary mission isn't to kill enemies; it's to bring the intelligence back alive. There are countless tricks at the edge of the rift, and the Ancient Progeny excel at setting traps to lure people deeper. We must hold the boundary and avoid the temptation to push further in."
In the early hours of the morning, the scout vehicle stopped beside the outer perimeter of the blockade array.
The array was not yet fully completed. Dozens of oscillation pillars were erected along the circular points, with cables buried underground and interconnected. Once fully debugged, continuous resonance waves would blanket the entire shallow rift exit, suppressing the illusion network's signals, trapping the remaining scaled beasts inside, and blocking the channel for outward beast tide deployments. Many engineering soldiers were still rushing repairs under the cover of night, their welding sparks flashing刺眼 (dazzlingly) in the gray fog.
The squad donned lightweight protective suits designed to isolate the corrosive breath. Carrying portable Sea of Consciousness detectors and spectrum recorders, they advanced slowly toward the rift along the predetermined reconnaissance route.
The closer they got to the rift's maw, the heavier the chill in the air became. On the instrument screens, the basic alien spectrum continued to jump. These were merely faint, unconscious fluctuations scattered by isolated scaled beasts within the rift. The intensity was low, lacking any obvious commanding presence, falling under normal residual signals.
"Under normal circumstances, after the Elder died and the priest fled to the lower levels wounded, the shallow psychic network should be chaotic and disordered," Old Zhou said in a hushed voice, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. "But yesterday, command received a report from the previous scout rotation stating that this area occasionally captures regular, periodic low-frequency fluctuations. They are neither scaled beasts nor priests."
Lin Yan eased his mind, maintaining only the bare minimum of perception. The wide fissure in his Sea of Consciousness tingled slightly. He deliberately controlled himself to avoid amplifying his sensory range, preventing another deep-level backlash.
After walking for about half an hour, they were less than eight hundred meters from the rift's entrance.
Suddenly, the maintenance operator stopped, pointing at the ground and whispering, "Captain, look at this."
Everyone followed his finger.
Carved into the ashen-black soil were several smooth, bizarre curved lines. Three arcs connected end-to-end, forming an irregular spiral mark. The edges of the mark were stained with a bit of semi-dry, dark green mucus. It no longer emitted a strong psychic aura, but its lingering corrosive breath was entirely different from that of scaled beast blood.
These were not scratches left by claws; they were deliberately placed markers.
Old Zhou squatted down, sweeping the mark with a portable spectrum probe. A string of unfamiliar waveforms jumped onto the screen: "This doesn't match any known curse marks of priests or Elders. The Elders' marks resemble bone armor patterns, and the priests' markers are used to anchor illusion network nodes. This spiral pattern has no record in our archives."
Lin Yan stepped slightly closer, his brow twitching faintly.
There was no frenzied impact, no bewitching whispers. Yet, this spiral mark faintly exuded a familiar, indifferent, and vast aura. It was the lingering aftertaste of that supreme existence he had glimpsed in the abyssal darkness while half-asleep in the healing pod.
This mark wasn't meant for the shallow-level scaled beasts, nor even for the priests. It was more like a beacon, a coordinate, telling the existence deep underground: Here is where your gaze falls.
"Careful, don't touch it," Lin Yan warned in a deep voice. "The psychic tracing direction of this mark points to the lower levels of the rift."
Old Zhou immediately signaled everyone to take half a step back, creating distance. He pulled out a high-definition recorder to photograph and archive the mark from multiple angles, then collected a small sample of the mucus, sealing it in an airtight test tube.
"This is bizarre. After the priest fled downward wounded, something actually came up from the lower levels to leave a mark here." Old Zhou frowned deeply. "Is it unafraid of our blockade array? Or does it simply not care that we're sealing off the shallow exit?"
"Perhaps the shallow rift was always just a hunting ground it casually threw out," Lin Yan said slowly, his voice kept extremely low. "We are busy sealing the exit to trap the scaled beasts inside, but its focus has never been on the shallow levels."
This sentence sent a chill down the spines of the other squad members.
Their long-held belief was that the rift was the source of the beast tides, and that blocking the exit would reduce the threats on the wasteland. But if the shallow breeding zones, the Elders, and the priests were merely pawns of a higher power, then what could the blockade array, built at such great cost of manpower and materials, actually stop?
Staring at the detector, the maintenance operator suddenly caught his breath: "Captain! There's a slow, upward-flowing psychic current from the deep levels! It's faint, continuous, and stable. It's not an explosive impact; it's slowly seeping upward."
On the screen, an extremely gentle, elongated curve slowly rose from the very bottom of the spectrum. It lacked the layered, oppressive weight of a priest's illusion tide, nor did it possess the precise, heart-grasping allure of an Elder's illusions. It was quiet and silent, like a slow-flowing glacier within the rock strata.
It did not attack actively, nor did it create illusions. It simply permeated upward, slowly washing over the crevices in the rocks, over the tunnels of Rift No. 79, and spreading toward the surface of the wasteland.
The fissure in Lin Yan's Sea of Consciousness began to tremble continuously. He would absolutely never misidentify this aura.
It was the aura of that existence in the abyss.
It hadn't come up personally; it merely released a wisp of consciousness flow, slowly floating up along the channel, as if patrolling the territory it overlooked. The spiral mark was the signpost it left on the surface, and this slow-rising psychic flow was its gaze extending outward.
"Retreat! Retreat immediately!" Old Zhou made a decisive call, ceasing all further exploration. "The signal source's tier exceeds our contingency plan. We have no qualification to stay here and record. Secure the samples and footage, and return along the original route to report to the blockade array construction site."
No one hesitated.
The squad turned swiftly, retreating along the path they had come. Everyone subconsciously held their breath, a layer of chill rising on their skin beneath the protective suits. Behind them, the dark maw of the rift lay silently on the earth. That gentle psychic flow continued to seep upward at its own unhurried pace, neither chasing nor attacking. It simply followed quietly, far behind them.
Yet, this silence was far more绝望 (despair-inducing) than an overwhelming beast tide or a mind-devouring illusion wave.
On the way back, no one spoke.
There was only the muffled sound of boots stepping on mud and the continuous, faint hum of the instruments.
Lin Yan walked in the middle of the formation, constantly monitoring the psychic flow behind them. It maintained a fixed intensity, neither increasing nor decreasing, slowly expanding. It seemed it was merely observing, recording the blockade fortifications, patrol routes, and personnel movements set up by humanity here.
Humanity's blockade plan, which they believed gave them the initiative, had been seen by it from the very beginning.
Upon returning to the blockade array construction site, Old Zhou immediately took the footage, mucus sample, and spectrum records to the on-site engineering director and the frontline stationed researcher.
The news was urgently transmitted back to the West Bastion Research Institute. When Scholar Su received the records, his expression remained grim for a long time.
In the conference room, the projection displayed photos of the spiral mark alongside the gentle, elongated curve of the unfamiliar spectrum.
"All existing databases have been cross-referenced; no matching records were found," a young researcher reported in a low voice. "The psychic flow originates from the deep levels of Rift No. 79. It is continuously rising, non-aggressive, and its permeation speed is very slow."
Scholar Su stared at the spiral pattern on the screen, his fingertips lightly tapping the desk: "We previously only speculated about the existence of high-tier Ancient Progeny in the deep levels. Now, the evidence is right before our eyes. It is not dormant. It has been感知 (perceiving) everything happening in the shallow levels. The Elder's death, the priest's wounded retreat, our deployment of the blockade array, our dispatch of scout reconnaissance—every single action has been under its observation."
A garrison officer spoke up: "Should we halt construction immediately and abandon the blockade plan?"
"We cannot stop," Scholar Su shook his head. "The blockade array is still useful; at the very least, it can trap the remaining shallow-level scaled beasts and reduce the harassment of scattered beast tides. However, we must face reality: the blockade cannot stop it in the deep levels. If it wants to come out, it can always find other channels. Beneath this earth, the rift network is highly interconnected; Rift No. 79 is merely one node."
Lin Yan stood in the corner of the conference room, listening quietly to the discussion.
He did not mention his experience of glimpsing that consciousness in the healing pod.
Some things, if known by too many people, would only trigger greater panic. He bore this secret alone, along with that silent judgment: [The fissure is a very good vessel.]
The meeting concluded with new scout protocols.
From now on, any reconnaissance squad approaching Rift No. 79 that captures this kind of gentle, non-aggressive, low-frequency ancient psychic flow must not report further details; they are to evacuate immediately. No tracking, no probing, and absolutely no attempts to communicate.
Simultaneously, the research institute urgently allocated higher-specification deep-level psychic monitoring buoys to be deployed at the entrance of Rift No. 79, continuously recording changes in this aura.
After the meeting adjourned, the night grew deeper.
Lin Yan walked alone to the high wall of the bastion facing the wasteland. Leaning against the cold alloy railing, he gazed out at the churning gray fog of the wasteland. Rift No. 79 was hidden somewhere in the distant black mist. Deep underground, that colossal existence remained quietly dormant.
It was in no hurry. Twenty-five years of war of attrition, to it, might have been nothing more than a long wait.
Lin Yan raised his hand and pressed against the eternal scar on his brow.
His path of cultivation had to continue. He was still separated from the ninth tier by life-and-death tempering, and every step forward required fighting against the hidden injuries in his Sea of Consciousness. And he knew clearly that one day, he would once again face that gaze from the abyss head-on.
End of Chapter.
This land had long been soaked by the constant overflow of corrosive breath. Nothing grew on the surface; the soil was a lifeless, ashen black. It felt soft and sticky underfoot, leaving footprints of varying depths with every step. The wind carried fine sand mixed with gray fog, flowing slowly across the field of vision. In the distance, the entrance to Rift No. 79 looked like a hideous gash in the earth, sinking inward in a pitch-black depression. Even from three kilometers away, the foul, rotting stench drifting up from underground was palpable.
After returning to his unit, Lin Yan was assigned to the Third Scout Rotation Squad. The squad consisted of five members. The captain, Old Zhou, was a fourth-tier Sea of Consciousness cultivator. He was highly experienced and had been responsible for reconnaissance around the outer perimeter of the rift for years. The remaining three members included two physical assault specialists and one equipment maintenance operator. Chen Ye was not assigned to the same group; he stayed on the main defense line, joining the mobile support team to provide rapid reinforcement if the blockade array came under attack.
Before their departure, Scholar Su specifically pulled Old Zhou aside to brief him on Lin Yan's condition: "His perception is sharp, but his Sea of Consciousness carries severe hidden injuries. He is strictly limited to long-range signal early warning. If the intensity of any alien psychic fluctuation exceeds the level of a secondary priest, halt the exploration immediately and evacuate everyone at once. No hesitation."
Old Zhou had reviewed Lin Yan's previous medical records. Looking serious, he patted Lin Yan's shoulder and said, "I understand. For our scout squads, the primary mission isn't to kill enemies; it's to bring the intelligence back alive. There are countless tricks at the edge of the rift, and the Ancient Progeny excel at setting traps to lure people deeper. We must hold the boundary and avoid the temptation to push further in."
In the early hours of the morning, the scout vehicle stopped beside the outer perimeter of the blockade array.
The array was not yet fully completed. Dozens of oscillation pillars were erected along the circular points, with cables buried underground and interconnected. Once fully debugged, continuous resonance waves would blanket the entire shallow rift exit, suppressing the illusion network's signals, trapping the remaining scaled beasts inside, and blocking the channel for outward beast tide deployments. Many engineering soldiers were still rushing repairs under the cover of night, their welding sparks flashing刺眼 (dazzlingly) in the gray fog.
The squad donned lightweight protective suits designed to isolate the corrosive breath. Carrying portable Sea of Consciousness detectors and spectrum recorders, they advanced slowly toward the rift along the predetermined reconnaissance route.
The closer they got to the rift's maw, the heavier the chill in the air became. On the instrument screens, the basic alien spectrum continued to jump. These were merely faint, unconscious fluctuations scattered by isolated scaled beasts within the rift. The intensity was low, lacking any obvious commanding presence, falling under normal residual signals.
"Under normal circumstances, after the Elder died and the priest fled to the lower levels wounded, the shallow psychic network should be chaotic and disordered," Old Zhou said in a hushed voice, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. "But yesterday, command received a report from the previous scout rotation stating that this area occasionally captures regular, periodic low-frequency fluctuations. They are neither scaled beasts nor priests."
Lin Yan eased his mind, maintaining only the bare minimum of perception. The wide fissure in his Sea of Consciousness tingled slightly. He deliberately controlled himself to avoid amplifying his sensory range, preventing another deep-level backlash.
After walking for about half an hour, they were less than eight hundred meters from the rift's entrance.
Suddenly, the maintenance operator stopped, pointing at the ground and whispering, "Captain, look at this."
Everyone followed his finger.
Carved into the ashen-black soil were several smooth, bizarre curved lines. Three arcs connected end-to-end, forming an irregular spiral mark. The edges of the mark were stained with a bit of semi-dry, dark green mucus. It no longer emitted a strong psychic aura, but its lingering corrosive breath was entirely different from that of scaled beast blood.
These were not scratches left by claws; they were deliberately placed markers.
Old Zhou squatted down, sweeping the mark with a portable spectrum probe. A string of unfamiliar waveforms jumped onto the screen: "This doesn't match any known curse marks of priests or Elders. The Elders' marks resemble bone armor patterns, and the priests' markers are used to anchor illusion network nodes. This spiral pattern has no record in our archives."
Lin Yan stepped slightly closer, his brow twitching faintly.
There was no frenzied impact, no bewitching whispers. Yet, this spiral mark faintly exuded a familiar, indifferent, and vast aura. It was the lingering aftertaste of that supreme existence he had glimpsed in the abyssal darkness while half-asleep in the healing pod.
This mark wasn't meant for the shallow-level scaled beasts, nor even for the priests. It was more like a beacon, a coordinate, telling the existence deep underground: Here is where your gaze falls.
"Careful, don't touch it," Lin Yan warned in a deep voice. "The psychic tracing direction of this mark points to the lower levels of the rift."
Old Zhou immediately signaled everyone to take half a step back, creating distance. He pulled out a high-definition recorder to photograph and archive the mark from multiple angles, then collected a small sample of the mucus, sealing it in an airtight test tube.
"This is bizarre. After the priest fled downward wounded, something actually came up from the lower levels to leave a mark here." Old Zhou frowned deeply. "Is it unafraid of our blockade array? Or does it simply not care that we're sealing off the shallow exit?"
"Perhaps the shallow rift was always just a hunting ground it casually threw out," Lin Yan said slowly, his voice kept extremely low. "We are busy sealing the exit to trap the scaled beasts inside, but its focus has never been on the shallow levels."
This sentence sent a chill down the spines of the other squad members.
Their long-held belief was that the rift was the source of the beast tides, and that blocking the exit would reduce the threats on the wasteland. But if the shallow breeding zones, the Elders, and the priests were merely pawns of a higher power, then what could the blockade array, built at such great cost of manpower and materials, actually stop?
Staring at the detector, the maintenance operator suddenly caught his breath: "Captain! There's a slow, upward-flowing psychic current from the deep levels! It's faint, continuous, and stable. It's not an explosive impact; it's slowly seeping upward."
On the screen, an extremely gentle, elongated curve slowly rose from the very bottom of the spectrum. It lacked the layered, oppressive weight of a priest's illusion tide, nor did it possess the precise, heart-grasping allure of an Elder's illusions. It was quiet and silent, like a slow-flowing glacier within the rock strata.
It did not attack actively, nor did it create illusions. It simply permeated upward, slowly washing over the crevices in the rocks, over the tunnels of Rift No. 79, and spreading toward the surface of the wasteland.
The fissure in Lin Yan's Sea of Consciousness began to tremble continuously. He would absolutely never misidentify this aura.
It was the aura of that existence in the abyss.
It hadn't come up personally; it merely released a wisp of consciousness flow, slowly floating up along the channel, as if patrolling the territory it overlooked. The spiral mark was the signpost it left on the surface, and this slow-rising psychic flow was its gaze extending outward.
"Retreat! Retreat immediately!" Old Zhou made a decisive call, ceasing all further exploration. "The signal source's tier exceeds our contingency plan. We have no qualification to stay here and record. Secure the samples and footage, and return along the original route to report to the blockade array construction site."
No one hesitated.
The squad turned swiftly, retreating along the path they had come. Everyone subconsciously held their breath, a layer of chill rising on their skin beneath the protective suits. Behind them, the dark maw of the rift lay silently on the earth. That gentle psychic flow continued to seep upward at its own unhurried pace, neither chasing nor attacking. It simply followed quietly, far behind them.
Yet, this silence was far more绝望 (despair-inducing) than an overwhelming beast tide or a mind-devouring illusion wave.
On the way back, no one spoke.
There was only the muffled sound of boots stepping on mud and the continuous, faint hum of the instruments.
Lin Yan walked in the middle of the formation, constantly monitoring the psychic flow behind them. It maintained a fixed intensity, neither increasing nor decreasing, slowly expanding. It seemed it was merely observing, recording the blockade fortifications, patrol routes, and personnel movements set up by humanity here.
Humanity's blockade plan, which they believed gave them the initiative, had been seen by it from the very beginning.
Upon returning to the blockade array construction site, Old Zhou immediately took the footage, mucus sample, and spectrum records to the on-site engineering director and the frontline stationed researcher.
The news was urgently transmitted back to the West Bastion Research Institute. When Scholar Su received the records, his expression remained grim for a long time.
In the conference room, the projection displayed photos of the spiral mark alongside the gentle, elongated curve of the unfamiliar spectrum.
"All existing databases have been cross-referenced; no matching records were found," a young researcher reported in a low voice. "The psychic flow originates from the deep levels of Rift No. 79. It is continuously rising, non-aggressive, and its permeation speed is very slow."
Scholar Su stared at the spiral pattern on the screen, his fingertips lightly tapping the desk: "We previously only speculated about the existence of high-tier Ancient Progeny in the deep levels. Now, the evidence is right before our eyes. It is not dormant. It has been感知 (perceiving) everything happening in the shallow levels. The Elder's death, the priest's wounded retreat, our deployment of the blockade array, our dispatch of scout reconnaissance—every single action has been under its observation."
A garrison officer spoke up: "Should we halt construction immediately and abandon the blockade plan?"
"We cannot stop," Scholar Su shook his head. "The blockade array is still useful; at the very least, it can trap the remaining shallow-level scaled beasts and reduce the harassment of scattered beast tides. However, we must face reality: the blockade cannot stop it in the deep levels. If it wants to come out, it can always find other channels. Beneath this earth, the rift network is highly interconnected; Rift No. 79 is merely one node."
Lin Yan stood in the corner of the conference room, listening quietly to the discussion.
He did not mention his experience of glimpsing that consciousness in the healing pod.
Some things, if known by too many people, would only trigger greater panic. He bore this secret alone, along with that silent judgment: [The fissure is a very good vessel.]
The meeting concluded with new scout protocols.
From now on, any reconnaissance squad approaching Rift No. 79 that captures this kind of gentle, non-aggressive, low-frequency ancient psychic flow must not report further details; they are to evacuate immediately. No tracking, no probing, and absolutely no attempts to communicate.
Simultaneously, the research institute urgently allocated higher-specification deep-level psychic monitoring buoys to be deployed at the entrance of Rift No. 79, continuously recording changes in this aura.
After the meeting adjourned, the night grew deeper.
Lin Yan walked alone to the high wall of the bastion facing the wasteland. Leaning against the cold alloy railing, he gazed out at the churning gray fog of the wasteland. Rift No. 79 was hidden somewhere in the distant black mist. Deep underground, that colossal existence remained quietly dormant.
It was in no hurry. Twenty-five years of war of attrition, to it, might have been nothing more than a long wait.
Lin Yan raised his hand and pressed against the eternal scar on his brow.
His path of cultivation had to continue. He was still separated from the ninth tier by life-and-death tempering, and every step forward required fighting against the hidden injuries in his Sea of Consciousness. And he knew clearly that one day, he would once again face that gaze from the abyss head-on.
End of Chapter.