Pillar of Yita

Fang Hong’s heart was filled with a negative impression of the Jiefulite Red Cloak Team and the Silver Forest Spear, but it was just a curse whispered in his mind; he wasn’t ready to openly confront the Grand Guild and risk his life.

Of course, if the chance arose, he wouldn’t mind causing a bit of trouble for the Jiefulite Red Cloak Team, especially as a way of avenging everyone.

There will be opportunities, Fang Hong thought to himself.

He just happened to walk under the shadow of this small mountain when suddenly the chirping of the red-tailed robins he heard before came from above. Fang Hong raised his head just in time to see a flock of these brown and red birds taking flight together.

Looking in the direction of the cliff, he was surprised to see a figure appearing at its edge.

At that moment, Fang Hong’s heart seemed to skip a beat, as he recognized who it was—it was Miya.

But the girl didn’t notice him below; she raised her right hand to unfasten the clasp of her shawl and threw it onto the ground, revealing her slim figure underneath. She was wearing a fine, scale-like bodysuit, with an intricate star-shaped ornament at the juncture of her collarbones.

She drew back her silver hair with a backward sweep of her hand and tied it above the nape of her neck with a silver ring.

Then she leaped down.

Fang Hong, startled by the scene, nearly cried out but immediately saw Miya float gently down like a feather, eventually disappearing into the forest atop this colossal construct.

”Wind, wind element resonance?” Fang Hong knew of a most rare magic aptitude, the wind element magic aptitude, as those possessing this trait produced a certain buoyancy in the Sky Sea, much like the working principle of a floating ship.

Those with this aptitude were born Sky Knights, coveted as top-notch talents by all major powers, whether natives or Invokers, often eagerly recruited by various forces.

Invokers would usually joke about them as the reserve forces of large fleets.

But not everyone could master such an ability.

Apart from those who ruled the skies—the Dragon Riders and Sky Knights—

Was Miya really a Dragon Rider or a Sky Knight? Fang Hong couldn’t help but touch his chest, still visualizing the scene he just witnessed. Yet she had never displayed such ability publicly, and even he had always thought of Miya as just an ordinary magical adept of the fire system.

Only when her figure had completely vanished did Fang Hong open his mouth, though no words came out.

It dawned on him then that he might not know all there was to know about Miya.

It may not even amount to a mask, and he couldn’t help but feel an involuntary sense of unequal indignation, but before anger could cloud his judgment, Fang Hong gradually calmed down.

Like the vexation of a young man, which eventually dissipates, he suddenly understood that it was all just his own wishful thinking.

He sighed softly.

His heart felt a bit empty.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but want to ask her directly: why did she leave at that time? Why did she give him the dagger? What exactly was her purpose?

With this thought in mind—or perhaps simply out of a desire to see her again—Fang Hong involuntarily quickened his pace.

He arrived at the entrance below, clambering up the ladder meant for maintenance on the outer shell of the construct, ”’Klank, klank,’” reaching the tightly sealed metal cover with a valve on it. He grabbed the valve with both hands and twisted, and with an exhaust sound coming from within, the door sprang open with a hiss.

Fang Hong reached inside, pulling himself up with an effortful pull-up, relieved that his injuries were mostly healed, otherwise, he would not have been able to enter this door.

And as he entered the interior of this massive construct, Fang Hong was instantly stunned.

Inside was a long maintenance corridor connecting one entrance to the other, with simple railings on either side and iron mesh laid out on the floor of the bridge. Looking down, there were rows of dark copper gears, the largest of which were as tall as two men, all neatly interlocking.

On both sides of the corridor, there were even larger brass counterweights extending downward and covered at the top by the ceiling so that only half was in view. One end was connected to a transmission rod, which alone was as thick as him and seven or eight times longer.

Further back were densely packed pipelines with unknown destinations.

Above him floated three glowing crystals, actually held aloft by Guy Rings—made from the leftovers of the material used to create the floating engines for airships. The ring looked like a plain circle, but it had a certain buoyancy and served as a light fixture.

These dim lights were the only illumination in the corridor.

Fang Hong then cautiously moved across the maintenance bridge, the thick leather of his boots dripping water mixed with silt down onto the iron mesh. The bridge creaked and groaned, and in the quiet of the corridor, such eerie sounds were somewhat spine-chilling.

Most importantly, he feared that the rusty iron mesh bridge would suddenly break, as too many films and television works featured such scenes.

Fortunately, that fantasy did not come to pass; at the other end of the corridor was an iron staircase folding back and ascending—this structure was not beyond Fang Hong’s expectations.

During his visit to the Kapuka Artisan Association, he had seen the interior structure of the Colin Kingdom’s 87-A type giant puppet, one of the association’s most expensive teaching tools. Although the Numelin Elves had faded into obscurity by the time the puppet was created, the internal structures were strikingly similar by coincidence.