Pillar of Yita

Fang Hong felt a heavy blow.

He threw the match to the ground and rushed over recklessly, pulling Sicape out from under the debris. The wounds on his hands cracked open once again, blood gushing and staining the soil beneath red. Yet Fang Hong felt nothing, dragging Sicape out with sheer force.

”Miss Sicape.”

”Miss Sicape?” Fang Hong softly called her name, but received no response. He suddenly recalled a voice from earlier and realized who had pushed him away last; his nose tingled, and he barely held back the tears.

But at this moment, a weak, rasping cough echoed from the darkness.

Fang Hong felt a thrill as if he had won a massive lottery. He hurriedly struck another match, its bright, warm light illuminating Sicape’s disgruntled expression; she weakly said, ”Can’t you be gentler?” But when she saw Fang Hong’s trembling, bloodied hand, the rest of her words caught in her throat.

The light from the match also reflected on Fang Hong’s face; he couldn’t help but smile with tearful eyes, silly like a child.

”Childish.” Sicape softly shook her head.

Fang Hong didn’t mind and wiped the corners of his eyes. In the flickering light of the match, the corridor was low and oppressive, shadows lurking; the world was far from perfect as he had imagined.

But still, it was all right.

”Miss Sicape, can you move?”

Sicape gave him a look, ”Do I look like I can move?”

Before she finished speaking, the entire corridor shook, dust cascading down from the ceiling. Fang Hong looked up alertly, clearly feeling the source of the tremor above them—that thing hadn’t left yet!

”Seems it has taken a liking to you.” Sicape even managed a chuckle, teasing him.

Fang Hong was not as optimistic, saying worriedly, ”This place has collapsed from above, it definitely won’t stop it. We need to get out of here quickly, I’ll carry you.” He paused. ”. . . I wonder how Mr.

Kroid and the others are doing.”

Sicape didn’t dare think about this problem, but she knew the Morning Dawn Star Adventure Group had definitely perished. Her smile faded, and her expression darkened for a moment. She quietly asked, ”Can you really carry me?”

Fang Hong nodded; he walked over and opened his backpack—Miya’s dagger had long been lost. He didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad, only packing some essential items to carry and then taking out the bag of money inside to look at it over and over before stuffing it back in. He also took the Type Seven rifle and slung it over his shoulder.

He was about to carry Sicape, but she suddenly grabbed his arm, ”Wait.” She intently examined his forehead.

Fang Hong paused. ”What’s wrong?”

”There’s a box in my pocket, take it out.”

Fang Hong did as she asked, finding it was indeed a very small box, which upon opening revealed a small piece of soap and a small round steel mirror. He immediately understood Sicape’s intention, and at that moment Sicape struck another match, lighting up once more.

Through the mirror, Fang Hong saw a strange emblem on his forehead.

It was a star, wasn’t it?

It was drawn on the center of his forehead in very light white lines, nearly invisible if not looked at closely, an intricate eight-pointed star. After looking at it a while longer, it completely merged into his skin.

”What is this?” Fang Hong was puzzled.

But Sicape was also unsure, only guessing it might be related to that dagger. She wanted Fang Hong to retrieve the dagger, but the corridor’s shaking was getting worse, leaving no time for that.

”We’ll talk about it later.” Fang Hong shook his head.

”No.” Sicape stared at him, faintly suspecting something but not yet sure.

Ignoring her protest, Fang Hong simply picked her up and ran out toward the front of the corridor. No sooner had he left than the corridor behind them collapsed with a roar. Upon seeing this, Sicape stopped talking as well.

Although Fang Hong did not possess the strength of a Chosen War Profession, he was in reasonably good physical condition and had no trouble carrying Sicape, a lightweight female Elf Ranger.

His body felt like it was falling apart, especially his hands, which continued to bleed. Fang Hong clenched his teeth and kept silent.

The two advanced in the darkness, Fang Hong unable to distinguish the direction, only able to follow the corridor. He faintly felt that the entity was still following them, able to sense the ground shaking whenever he slowed slightly.

It was just like Miss Sicape said, it had latched onto him.

Sicape was in bad shape; she squinted, resting her head on his shoulder, her words slightly slurred, ”Didn’t think you had such a manly side, little guy, I know a girl. . .”

A feeling of foreboding hit Fang Hong as Sicape began to lose consciousness, knowing trouble loomed if it continued like this. He had only two options: either take her outside the Dead Silence Zone or find a way to heal her.

But getting out of the ruins was no easy task, not to mention the Silver Forest Spear and Jiefulite Red Cloak Team outside, even the ghostly thing always following them was beyond his handling.

The latter was equally fantastical; healing methods in Eteliria were few and far between, limited to healers and some precious potions. Elsa from the Morning Dawn Star, the only healer, had long been dead.

As for whether there were other healers in the ruins, even if there were, Fang Hong doubted they would help him. At this moment, his mind was filled with negative thoughts about the Grand Guild.

What should he do?

Suddenly, a bold thought crossed Fang Hong’s mind like a flash of lightning.

The Dragon Knights of Jiefulite—

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