Chapter 190: Ascending in Synchronization
The three days of stability were a rare buffer window since the outbreak of the war in the West Bastion.
The screening teams operated in continuous shifts. Relying on the resonance link maps previously mapped out, they radiated outward from the pipe gallery nodes, successfully identifying and admitting over a hundred hidden sleepers for treatment. The isolation pod area was continuously expanded, healing cultivators worked in shifts, and calming agents were supplied in ample quantities. The restlessness of the vast majority of anchor points was kept below the safety threshold. All the oscillation pillars of the blockade array had been fully serviced, backup energy modules were loaded, and the barrier's shock resistance margin was restored to a high level.
The Sea of Consciousness training at the academy had also yielded results. Many students could now independently resist low-intensity spore auditory hallucinations, no longer falling into a daze at the slightest whisper. Order in the city was visibly recovering, and the nerves of many garrison personnel, taut for so long, quietly relaxed a fraction.
Only Lin Yan could never let go of the unease in his heart.
During these three days, he persisted in taking shifts at the rocky hill observation point. During each shift, he would release a wisp of extremely restrained perception tentacles, anchoring them from afar to the supreme ruler's original stream of consciousness in the middle of the rift. He hadn't told anyone about his speculations; he merely silently recorded every minute fluctuation of the signals, continuously searching for the hidden contingencies of the darkness in places where others saw only peace.
That evening, the setting sun over the wasteland dyed the gray fog a murky brick red.
The maintenance operator was organizing the day's pulse records. On the screen, the signals from the priest's side remained weak and scattered, having not recovered their former strength. The high-tier priest with the cracked bone crown was still huddled in the shadows of the rock cavity, nursing its wounds. Occasionally, it would barely leak a bit of signal, but it couldn't even stir up a breeze.
"It looks like this relay is mostly ruined and won't recover in the short term," a young operator sighed softly while archiving the data. "Our raid back then actually achieved results."
Lin Yan didn't respond. Slowly closing his eyes, he sent his Sea of Consciousness tentacles probing into the depths of the rift once again.
The first thing he encountered was still that familiar, vast, and indifferent main signal, firmly locked in its old position in the middle of the channel.
But as he habitually peeled downward to distinguish the underlying tributaries, a strange fluctuation abruptly crashed into his perception.
It wasn't the fine humming of spores, nor the cyclical rhythm of the nodes, nor the aggressive psychic impact of the priests or scaled beasts. These streams of consciousness were thick and ancient, their pace slow. They subtly interlocked with each other, forming a resonant synchronization. It was as if several ancient existences that had slept for millennia were slowly awakening, drifting upward through the deep underground channels toward the shallow layers.
Lin Yan's heart sank heavily, and the fissure in his Sea of Consciousness instantly sent a sharp stab of pain.
He steadied his mind, forcing himself not to panic, and slowly dismantled the layers of the signal.
There were four independent ancient consciousnesses in total.
They had been hiding beneath the cover of the supreme ruler's main signal. Previously, they had sunk deep into the abyssal rift, isolated by thick rock strata and obscured by the supreme ruler's massive stream of consciousness. Ordinary perception cultivators would never be able to distinguish them. Even the instrument spectrums would filter them out as inherent noise of the main signal.
Only Lin Yan's unique fissure could penetrate the surface cover and capture these secondary cores hidden at the bottom.
Their ascending speed was not fast. Neither impatient nor hasty, they maintained a stable synchronized frequency with the supreme ruler's main consciousness, moving in unison. It was not a rebellion, nor independent action; it was subordination and coordination.
The supreme ruler, stopped in the middle of the channel, was like a guide, or rather a convener, waiting for these ancient kin to arrive at the shallow battlefield.
Lin Yan immediately opened his eyes, grabbed the communicator, and connected to Scholar Su's encrypted channel, his voice kept very low: "Scholar Su, come to the observation point immediately. There's a new discovery."
In less than ten minutes, Scholar Su drove to the rocky hill and hurried into the observation shed.
"What's wrong? Has the priest started releasing pulses in batches again?" Scholar Su asked, looking at the still-weak pulse curve on the screen, his brow slightly furrowed.
"It's not the priest," Lin Yan shook his head and recounted exactly what he had just perceived. "Deeper in the rift, four brand-new ancient consciousnesses are ascending. Their ranks are far higher than the previous high-tier priest. They share the same origin as the supreme ruler and are in synchronization with it. They've been hidden under the main signal all this time, only slowly moving upward during these three days of stability."
The color gradually drained from Scholar Su's face. He leaned over, staring at the spectrum panel and repeatedly dragging the waveform for playback.
"The instruments can't identify them?"
"They can't," Lin Yan explained. "They are highly synchronized in frequency with the supreme ruler's main signal. The waveforms overlap, and the instrument algorithms judge them as same-origin noise. Only after I peeled back the signal layers could I distinguish them as four independent individuals."
Scholar Su was silent for a long time, his fingertips lightly tapping the edge of the control console. In everyone's previous predictions, the supreme ruler was the sole top-level core of this rift network. Everyone had assumed that the priests, scaled beasts, and spore networks were merely extended limbs controlled by it alone. No one had ever imagined that it had kin of the same rank.
"In other words... it's not alone," Scholar Su's voice was dry.
"Yes," Lin Yan nodded. "All the layouts we saw before were just one chess player placing pieces. Now, its companions are coming to the side of the chessboard."
He continued to add the details he had perceived: "Their ascending rhythm is very steady, with no explosive acceleration. It seems it will take some time for them to reach the shallow channel. They have no intention of launching an immediate attack. It's more like they are rushing to a rally point to merge with the main consciousness. Once they are all in position, the command hierarchy of the entire network will be completely rewritten."
A single high-tier priest acting as a signal relay had already pushed the bastion to bear pressure on two fronts. If four ancient kin of the same rank arrived together, each possessing the independent ability to mobilize spore links, command beast herds, and set up psychic illusion arrays, the West Bastion would no longer face the long-term probing of a single opponent, but a multi-core coordinated encirclement.
"No wonder it held back from detonating all the anchor points in the city at that time," Lin Yan whispered, voicing the conjecture that had been swirling in his heart for a long time. "It's not in a rush for a decisive battle. That raid was merely an interlude to it. What it needed wasn't to hastily flip the chessboard, but to wait for reinforcements to arrive. The breathing room it gave us these past three days wasn't a forced retreat; it was the time it left for its kin to travel."
The moment this conjecture was voiced, the air in the observation shed instantly turned freezing.
The stable window everyone had previously celebrated turned out to be the time the darkness had left for its kin to ascend. It had allowed humanity to screen sleepers and repair barriers, watching as humanity consolidated its defenses bit by bit, while waiting for its companions to awaken from the abyssal depths and arrive at the front lines together.
Once they finished gathering, all the loopholes humanity had just patched and the defenses they had reinforced would have to withstand the test of a coordinated assault by multiple ancient beings.
Scholar Su took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and quickly sorted out a response plan:
"First, temporarily restrict the scope of knowledge regarding this matter. Only the supreme garrison command, core researchers, you, and Old Zhou will know, to prevent the spread of information from causing panic.
Second, you must continuously track the ascending trajectory of these four ancient consciousnesses. Report immediately every time you perceive a change in position or intensity, and establish a separate, confidential record archive.
Third, do not stop the screening and barrier reinforcement plans; instead, accelerate them. We don't know what kind of tactics they'll employ after gathering. They might pluck the spore resonance chains on four separate routes simultaneously, igniting fuses at multiple points in sync; or they might join forces to construct a large-scale overlapping illusion tide.
Fourth, mobilize all Sea of Consciousness perception cultivators above Level 4 to form an early warning team. Although they cannot see the original signals of these ancient beings, they can assist in monitoring abnormal synchronization in large-scale spore and node fluctuations."
The directives were quickly finalized.
Before leaving, Scholar Su patted Lin Yan's shoulder, his expression heavy: "Your perception has once again touched something we cannot see. But the risk is even greater now. There is more than one gaze watching you deep in the rift. Once the four ancient beings arrive, the moment you extend your perception tentacles, you will be exposed to the perception of several ancient beings simultaneously. Never stare at them rashly for prolonged periods."
"I understand," Lin Yan nodded.
The sun completely sank below the wasteland horizon, and the gray fog turned ink-black.
Lin Yan stayed alone in the observation shed. He released an extremely faint, extremely short perception tentacle once again, probing into the depths of the rift.
Those four thick, ancient streams of consciousness were still ascending steadily, echoing the indifferent main consciousness in the middle from afar, resonating in synchronization like a low, distant chorus. They were neither impatient nor hasty, slowly approaching this battlefield through the四通八达 (crisscrossing) underground channels in the rock strata.
The wounded priest in the rock cavity, conversely, seemed like a decoy set up in advance to attract all of humanity's attention and cover up this gathering from the depths of the abyss.
Lin Yan pressed against his brow, the fissure continuously sending waves of dull pain.
The opponent in this game had never been just one.
The chess player was summoning its companions, and the chessboard would soon face an entirely new match. And all the preparations the West Bastion had patched up during its window of breathing room would still be frail against the impending joint assault of the multiple ancient beings.
End of Chapter.
The screening teams operated in continuous shifts. Relying on the resonance link maps previously mapped out, they radiated outward from the pipe gallery nodes, successfully identifying and admitting over a hundred hidden sleepers for treatment. The isolation pod area was continuously expanded, healing cultivators worked in shifts, and calming agents were supplied in ample quantities. The restlessness of the vast majority of anchor points was kept below the safety threshold. All the oscillation pillars of the blockade array had been fully serviced, backup energy modules were loaded, and the barrier's shock resistance margin was restored to a high level.
The Sea of Consciousness training at the academy had also yielded results. Many students could now independently resist low-intensity spore auditory hallucinations, no longer falling into a daze at the slightest whisper. Order in the city was visibly recovering, and the nerves of many garrison personnel, taut for so long, quietly relaxed a fraction.
Only Lin Yan could never let go of the unease in his heart.
During these three days, he persisted in taking shifts at the rocky hill observation point. During each shift, he would release a wisp of extremely restrained perception tentacles, anchoring them from afar to the supreme ruler's original stream of consciousness in the middle of the rift. He hadn't told anyone about his speculations; he merely silently recorded every minute fluctuation of the signals, continuously searching for the hidden contingencies of the darkness in places where others saw only peace.
That evening, the setting sun over the wasteland dyed the gray fog a murky brick red.
The maintenance operator was organizing the day's pulse records. On the screen, the signals from the priest's side remained weak and scattered, having not recovered their former strength. The high-tier priest with the cracked bone crown was still huddled in the shadows of the rock cavity, nursing its wounds. Occasionally, it would barely leak a bit of signal, but it couldn't even stir up a breeze.
"It looks like this relay is mostly ruined and won't recover in the short term," a young operator sighed softly while archiving the data. "Our raid back then actually achieved results."
Lin Yan didn't respond. Slowly closing his eyes, he sent his Sea of Consciousness tentacles probing into the depths of the rift once again.
The first thing he encountered was still that familiar, vast, and indifferent main signal, firmly locked in its old position in the middle of the channel.
But as he habitually peeled downward to distinguish the underlying tributaries, a strange fluctuation abruptly crashed into his perception.
It wasn't the fine humming of spores, nor the cyclical rhythm of the nodes, nor the aggressive psychic impact of the priests or scaled beasts. These streams of consciousness were thick and ancient, their pace slow. They subtly interlocked with each other, forming a resonant synchronization. It was as if several ancient existences that had slept for millennia were slowly awakening, drifting upward through the deep underground channels toward the shallow layers.
Lin Yan's heart sank heavily, and the fissure in his Sea of Consciousness instantly sent a sharp stab of pain.
He steadied his mind, forcing himself not to panic, and slowly dismantled the layers of the signal.
There were four independent ancient consciousnesses in total.
They had been hiding beneath the cover of the supreme ruler's main signal. Previously, they had sunk deep into the abyssal rift, isolated by thick rock strata and obscured by the supreme ruler's massive stream of consciousness. Ordinary perception cultivators would never be able to distinguish them. Even the instrument spectrums would filter them out as inherent noise of the main signal.
Only Lin Yan's unique fissure could penetrate the surface cover and capture these secondary cores hidden at the bottom.
Their ascending speed was not fast. Neither impatient nor hasty, they maintained a stable synchronized frequency with the supreme ruler's main consciousness, moving in unison. It was not a rebellion, nor independent action; it was subordination and coordination.
The supreme ruler, stopped in the middle of the channel, was like a guide, or rather a convener, waiting for these ancient kin to arrive at the shallow battlefield.
Lin Yan immediately opened his eyes, grabbed the communicator, and connected to Scholar Su's encrypted channel, his voice kept very low: "Scholar Su, come to the observation point immediately. There's a new discovery."
In less than ten minutes, Scholar Su drove to the rocky hill and hurried into the observation shed.
"What's wrong? Has the priest started releasing pulses in batches again?" Scholar Su asked, looking at the still-weak pulse curve on the screen, his brow slightly furrowed.
"It's not the priest," Lin Yan shook his head and recounted exactly what he had just perceived. "Deeper in the rift, four brand-new ancient consciousnesses are ascending. Their ranks are far higher than the previous high-tier priest. They share the same origin as the supreme ruler and are in synchronization with it. They've been hidden under the main signal all this time, only slowly moving upward during these three days of stability."
The color gradually drained from Scholar Su's face. He leaned over, staring at the spectrum panel and repeatedly dragging the waveform for playback.
"The instruments can't identify them?"
"They can't," Lin Yan explained. "They are highly synchronized in frequency with the supreme ruler's main signal. The waveforms overlap, and the instrument algorithms judge them as same-origin noise. Only after I peeled back the signal layers could I distinguish them as four independent individuals."
Scholar Su was silent for a long time, his fingertips lightly tapping the edge of the control console. In everyone's previous predictions, the supreme ruler was the sole top-level core of this rift network. Everyone had assumed that the priests, scaled beasts, and spore networks were merely extended limbs controlled by it alone. No one had ever imagined that it had kin of the same rank.
"In other words... it's not alone," Scholar Su's voice was dry.
"Yes," Lin Yan nodded. "All the layouts we saw before were just one chess player placing pieces. Now, its companions are coming to the side of the chessboard."
He continued to add the details he had perceived: "Their ascending rhythm is very steady, with no explosive acceleration. It seems it will take some time for them to reach the shallow channel. They have no intention of launching an immediate attack. It's more like they are rushing to a rally point to merge with the main consciousness. Once they are all in position, the command hierarchy of the entire network will be completely rewritten."
A single high-tier priest acting as a signal relay had already pushed the bastion to bear pressure on two fronts. If four ancient kin of the same rank arrived together, each possessing the independent ability to mobilize spore links, command beast herds, and set up psychic illusion arrays, the West Bastion would no longer face the long-term probing of a single opponent, but a multi-core coordinated encirclement.
"No wonder it held back from detonating all the anchor points in the city at that time," Lin Yan whispered, voicing the conjecture that had been swirling in his heart for a long time. "It's not in a rush for a decisive battle. That raid was merely an interlude to it. What it needed wasn't to hastily flip the chessboard, but to wait for reinforcements to arrive. The breathing room it gave us these past three days wasn't a forced retreat; it was the time it left for its kin to travel."
The moment this conjecture was voiced, the air in the observation shed instantly turned freezing.
The stable window everyone had previously celebrated turned out to be the time the darkness had left for its kin to ascend. It had allowed humanity to screen sleepers and repair barriers, watching as humanity consolidated its defenses bit by bit, while waiting for its companions to awaken from the abyssal depths and arrive at the front lines together.
Once they finished gathering, all the loopholes humanity had just patched and the defenses they had reinforced would have to withstand the test of a coordinated assault by multiple ancient beings.
Scholar Su took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and quickly sorted out a response plan:
"First, temporarily restrict the scope of knowledge regarding this matter. Only the supreme garrison command, core researchers, you, and Old Zhou will know, to prevent the spread of information from causing panic.
Second, you must continuously track the ascending trajectory of these four ancient consciousnesses. Report immediately every time you perceive a change in position or intensity, and establish a separate, confidential record archive.
Third, do not stop the screening and barrier reinforcement plans; instead, accelerate them. We don't know what kind of tactics they'll employ after gathering. They might pluck the spore resonance chains on four separate routes simultaneously, igniting fuses at multiple points in sync; or they might join forces to construct a large-scale overlapping illusion tide.
Fourth, mobilize all Sea of Consciousness perception cultivators above Level 4 to form an early warning team. Although they cannot see the original signals of these ancient beings, they can assist in monitoring abnormal synchronization in large-scale spore and node fluctuations."
The directives were quickly finalized.
Before leaving, Scholar Su patted Lin Yan's shoulder, his expression heavy: "Your perception has once again touched something we cannot see. But the risk is even greater now. There is more than one gaze watching you deep in the rift. Once the four ancient beings arrive, the moment you extend your perception tentacles, you will be exposed to the perception of several ancient beings simultaneously. Never stare at them rashly for prolonged periods."
"I understand," Lin Yan nodded.
The sun completely sank below the wasteland horizon, and the gray fog turned ink-black.
Lin Yan stayed alone in the observation shed. He released an extremely faint, extremely short perception tentacle once again, probing into the depths of the rift.
Those four thick, ancient streams of consciousness were still ascending steadily, echoing the indifferent main consciousness in the middle from afar, resonating in synchronization like a low, distant chorus. They were neither impatient nor hasty, slowly approaching this battlefield through the四通八达 (crisscrossing) underground channels in the rock strata.
The wounded priest in the rock cavity, conversely, seemed like a decoy set up in advance to attract all of humanity's attention and cover up this gathering from the depths of the abyss.
Lin Yan pressed against his brow, the fissure continuously sending waves of dull pain.
The opponent in this game had never been just one.
The chess player was summoning its companions, and the chessboard would soon face an entirely new match. And all the preparations the West Bastion had patched up during its window of breathing room would still be frail against the impending joint assault of the multiple ancient beings.
End of Chapter.