Chapter 645: The Sacrificial Altar!
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
The sight affirmed what w.a.n.g Baole had guessed previously, but seeing it with his own eyes still shook him to the core. He couldn’t help but gulp.
The millstone was enormous. It was comprised of two plates, the lower piece unmoving while the upper piece was connected to nine handles and continuously rotated and ground against the lower plate. The grinding made a loud rumbling. It seemed as if nothing could escape being crushed if it fell between the two plates. w.a.n.g Baole recalled both towering beasts he had seen while on this world. He concluded, without much difficulty, that there must be some sort of power in this world that was compelling nine towering dead beasts into pulling the millstone’s nine enormous handles. The beasts were forced into running around in circles in order to keep the millstone turning!
Each beast was undoubtedly chained. Even the slightest decrease in speed would trigger the runes on the chains, transforming said runes into invisible whips that would whip the beasts into movement. It was an endless cycle of slavery and pain.
Such scale was truly shocking!
w.a.n.g Baole narrowed his eyes instinctively. He knelt on the log as he stared at the millstone in the distance. He could see countless bones piled up into numerous mountains under the millstone, and shriveled up puppets moved swiftly as they dragged and flung skeletons into the millstone.
The millstone continued its grinding, and the skeletons thrown in were instantly crushed and ground to fine dust. Blackened blood and minced flesh dripped down the walls of the millstone, but most ended up lost in the millstone, as if devoured.
w.a.n.g Baole’s distaste towards the Never-Ending Clan grew at the sight, and it took him some time before he was able to calm himself down. Once he had, he inched forward carefully, and the rumbling grew louder as he approached the millstone. It was then that w.a.n.g Baole saw a sunken depression in the middle of the millstone.
Within it sat a figure!
It appeared insignificant compared to the enormous millstone. That was why w.a.n.g Baole hadn’t noticed it until he had drawn nearer and gotten a closer look. It was a figure of an Never-Ending Clan cultivator!
He couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive. The eyes on all three of the cultivator’s heads were shut, his six arms limp by his side. He might be meditating, or he might have died in that position. There was an absence of vitality on the person. Dark, postmortem bruises could be seen all over the cultivator’s body.
w.a.n.g Baole studied the Never-Ending Clan cultivator before him instead of acting rashly. He was worried about Zhao Yameng and the rest, as well as the danger involved in the current mission. He had no idea how he was going to escape. Regardless, he knew that there was no point in panicking now that he was already here.
He clenched his teeth and forced himself to shove his anxieties aside, an icy calm settling in his eyes. He knelt there and continued to observe the millstone as it continued its grinding. He wanted to observe the situation for a while longer so that he might discover any loopholes or faults.
Time pa.s.sed slowly as w.a.n.g Baole continued watching patiently. Seven days went by.
In those seven days, he noticed that it took the log exactly seven days to go one full circle around the millstone. He even noted the rate at which the millstone ground the skeletons, though the information proved to be of little use. The millstone was like an extremely fine-tuned and powerful machine that continued turning without pause during those seven days.
The puppets s.h.i.+fting the skeletons and the Never-Ending Clan cultivator sitting on the millstone were identical in that regard. It was as if they had become immortalized in time.
There’s no way I can get closer if nothing changes. I have no way of destroying the sacrificial altar… w.a.n.g Baole frowned. He shoved down his feelings of anxiety and unease and continued to wait. He didn’t have to wait as long this time. After three days, something changed.
It wasn’t the millstone or the puppets but the entire world that changed. w.a.n.g Baole was perched on an elevated position, which gave him a greater field of vision. He could see the distant skies turning crimson red. It was as if a red mist was rapidly racing towards him!
Loud rumbling came from all directions, growing louder by the moment. w.a.n.g Baole could see a black ma.s.s in the distance, charging towards him!
That’s… w.a.n.g Baole’s pupils contracted. He was familiar with this sight. The red mist was formed from the pollen expelled from Demonic Green Poria Flowers. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the black ma.s.ses on land… were countless skeletons headed this way!
Is it possible that the sacrificial altar summons a storm of sorts at a fixed interval, attracting skeletons that have risen under the demonic flowers’ spell and drawing them to it? Alarm flashed across w.a.n.g Baole’s face. He stared at the mountains of bones under the millstone, then turned towards the distant horizon. Panic gradually rose inside him as the sight before him proved his guesses right.
The lands shook, and the terrifying stench of death came rus.h.i.+ng from afar, bursting out from the ground. A huge crocodile, with its rotten flesh, emerged and joined the approaching army of the dead.
The crocodile wasn’t the only powerful creature in this world of the dead. Death cast an alarming shadow as more such creatures made their presence known!
A strange power was churning in this world. Every Demonic Green Poria Flower blossomed and released their pollen, forming crimson mists that drove the corpses around them towards the sacrificial altar.
w.a.n.g Baole could no longer sit and wait as danger approached. He crouched down and began crawling towards the sacrificial altar. Once the corpses under the influence of the red mist gathered, they were bound to discover his presence. He would be trapped in a sea of zombies again, like what had happened before.
His chances of survival would be slim then. His only way out now was to head for the sacrificial altar. It was dangerous, but it was also w.a.n.g Baole’s only option.
I shouldn’t have come here! w.a.n.g Baole had a dark look on his face as he hurried forward. Then, suddenly, something flashed across his face. He stared at the mountains of bones under the log. The puppets moving the bones seemed oblivious to the fact that there were more than forty figures on one of those mountains approaching the sacrificial altar cautiously!
They were familiar faces—Feng Qiuran, Zhao Yameng, Kong Dao, Xu Ming, Lu Yun, as well as a couple of other Nascent Soul realm cultivators.
How long have they been hiding there? w.a.n.g Baole paused in his tracks. His eyes swept past the group and stopped on the five-colored, glowing jewel in Feng Qiuran’s hand. He appeared deep in thought. Feng Qiuran was obviously the leader of the group. She had somehow used some means unknown to him that could hide the group from view and avoid the puppets’ detection.
They must have arrived quite some time ago and decided to observe the situation, just like me. The sudden ma.s.s release of pollen must have forced them to take action! w.a.n.g Baole came to an immediate conclusion while keeping his eyes on Zhao Yameng and Kong Dao.
He released a sigh of relief when he saw that they were unharmed. Some of the cultivators looked weakened, but none of them were injured. Their journey here must have been filled with obstacles. However, they had managed to emerge relatively unscathed under the protection of Feng Qiuran’s Soul Conduit realm cultivation. The overwhelming power emanating from the log, as well as w.a.n.g Baole’s unexpected hiding place, meant that he was able to discover their hiding place while he remained hidden from their view.
Everyone was advancing cautiously. It wasn’t the right moment for w.a.n.g Baole to reveal himself. He kept a watchful eye on Feng Qiuran and the others while making his way slowly towards the altar.
Both parties approached the sacrificial altar from their respective positions as pollen continued to be released into the air in explosive bursts. The lands trembled violently as the countless corpses approached them. Finally, they reached the edge of the altar at the same time!
The stench of blood hit them in their faces. There was an overwhelming power in the air that seemed to forbid them from entering. It weighed down on everyone, sending many cultivators shaking despite still being protected by Feng Qiuran’s cultivation. It was an instinctive terror, and w.a.n.g Baole was affected as well. He threw a look at Feng Qiuran and the others again.
He saw Feng Qiuran raising her hand to form a series of hand seals, then pointing her finger suddenly. A talisman giving off a blinding light emerged from her storage bag. It felt extremely old and looked as if it had survived the pa.s.sing of millennia. An incredible aura emanated from it. w.a.n.g Baole felt as if he were staring a powerful Planet realm cultivator in the face, which caused his breathing to quicken.
Feng Qiuran bit the tip of her tongue and spat out a mouthful of blood, and as the blood touched the talisman, flames appeared instantly. A firebird emerged from within the fire, its body formed of flames. It shrieked, then flew towards the millstone!