Pillar of Yita

The group advanced quickly along the street, the surroundings swiftly receding around them.

This was midnight in Dolifen City. The daytime scenery had completely transformed—the city, which during the day resembled ruins, had disappeared, replaced by its former shadows amidst the misty trees glowing with fireflies.

It was a scene from thirty years ago—

Neat buildings, each with doors tightly shut, seemingly with pale faces behind the windows, laughter and everyday conversations echoing from within.

In their haste, they passed a deserted workshop where a Magic Guided Reactor still operated, with tall racks and orange flames. Despite being the middle of the night, the empty workshop echoed with the clanging of metal.

The sight was eerily bizarre.

But what was even more chilling were the pursuers behind them, the end of the street aglow with countless ghosts.

They pressed the group to not dare stop moving.

Gita ran a few steps before slowing down with her hand on her chest, her face turning pale. Fang Hong looked back and saw Hilveld supporting Xiesta, Atira leading Tianlan, the Papalarians struggling with their short legs, and Diket carrying a wounded subordinate of Hansen’s.

He turned and walked back. ”I’m fine, Brother Ade.” Gita adjusted her glasses, guilt evident in her mosquito-like voice.

”I’m not blaming you, but we’re too slow. Can’t you run anymore?” Fang Hong asked.

Gita nodded slightly. The wound on her chest had healed superficially, but the blade that had pierced her lung still affected her physical fitness—especially since she was not a War Profession Professional.

She frowned, feeling a sharp pain in her chest.

Without another word, Fang Hong reached out and placed his hand on Gita’s shoulder. The young girl flinched, instinctively trying to shrink back. ”Stay still,” Fang Hong told her, ”I’ll carry you.”

”Ca... Captain.” Gita’s face flushed red, surprised, and she became incoherent.

”Don’t think too much. Just pretend I’m Miss Atira.”

”But,” Gita mumbled, ashamed, ”It’s all my fault for wanting to come along...”

”It’s not your fault. As the captain, I must understand the value of my own decisions. In fact, you’ve already helped us all tremendously during the day. That’s your value, Gita. One day you’ll become a great Natural Historian.” Fang Hong looked at her seriously and answered, ”And now, it’s time for your captain to take responsibility.”

Gita, blushing, nodded and placed her hand on Fang Hong’s arm.

Only then did Fang Hong bend down, slide his arm under her knees, and lift her into a carry—it was a bit strenuous for him as a non-combat Invoker, but once he had her in his arms, it became much easier.

Gita was light, almost like a petite ghost.

The young girl buried her head in his chest, her cheeks red as blood, her long eyelashes casting shadows in the bright moonlight, soft and touching.

But for such a young girl, Fang Hong had no other thoughts in his mind; it was as if he was protecting his own sister, carrying her to catch up with the others. As they passed Elf Miss, she gave him a look with a slight reassurance, ”Well done, Ade.”

This made him a bit embarrassed; he instinctively wanted to scratch his head but couldn’t, so he just stood there with a foolish smile.

Not far away, Hilveld couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

Seeing this scene, Xiesta just shook her head. ”Why are you shaking your head, Xiesta?” Hilveld turned, curious about her maid’s reaction.

”Nothing, Miss.”

”Tell the truth.”

”I just don’t understand; he’s just a big boy.”

”Xiesta really doesn’t get it,” the noble girl answered with a smile: ”Big boys are more reliable, whereas men are just cunning and selfish creatures. In fact, once he grows up, he’ll turn out just the same, always greedy.”

”So what does the Miss really admire about him?”

Hilveld smiled slightly under the moonlight but did not respond.

Across from the workshop was a hill covered in lush vegetation, reflecting the bright river bay that passed through the Inner City, with a pier stretching into the flickering waters.

Next to the pier was a low wooden hut with white walls and a brown roof, which Hansen said was a guard post. On a normal day, escorting a target here would have led to a minor battle to defeat the guards.

But today, there were no guards and no mission target.

Ahead was already Fisherman Street—

Fang Hong remembered what the older knights had described about the inside of Dolifen City; Fisherman Street connected to Ruins Avenue, and they were not far from the Outer City Gate they had entered through earlier.

If they could just reach there, they would be safe; none of these ghosts, including the ones following behind, could stand against Lion Person Reed.

But suddenly, Fang Hong stopped moving.

They had been to Fisherman Street during the day, but Fang Hong remembered it was not at all like what it appeared now. Even if the buildings on both sides were intact, the terrain shouldn’t have changed so drastically—he looked up at the abyss stretching out before him.

It was bottomless, so wide he couldn’t see the other side of the abyss; a cliff lay before him, half of the street swallowed by it. More precisely, including the entire Southern City District and the Ruins Avenue ahead, all were completely gone.

Fang Hong couldn’t help but look left and right, only able to see a few remaining buildings, stones even shearing off at the edge of the cliff incessantly tumbling down into the abyss below.