Defense Line 7, Ninety-Seven Kilometers Long

The monkeys scattered and fled in all directions, but Weiwei's lantern-sized eyes were fixed squarely on the monkey king darting into the jungle. Giving chase in a straight line, it paid no heed whatsoever to the fleeing rabble. This monkey was noticeably larger than the others, making it easy to identify, but it was also far more cowardly. When the troop had broken into flight moments ago, this monkey king had been the very first to turn tail and run. It was fast, but Weiwei was faster. Despite its colossal size, Weiwei possessed shocking speed. Tearing through the jungle like a rampaging bulldozer, it flattened countless trees in its wake. A few breaths later, Weiwei trotted back like a triumphant general. Its cavernous maw held the half-dead monkey king, its tail thumped the ground with proud vigor, and its eyes brimmed with self-satisfaction as it crawled up to Chen Fan and spat the creature out. "Well done." Chen Fan smiled at Weiwei. Bringing Weiwei along on this voyage had been intended for situations just like this; an island of this size was almost certain to harbor exotic beasts. The best way to deal with exotic beasts was not through fortifications. Beasts possessed spiritual awareness; once they sensed mortal peril, they would not charge headlong, but would instead retreat far into hiding. While they might pose no immediate threat, having them linger on the island was an enduring hazard. The best solution was to bring an exotic beast even stronger than they were—such as Weiwei. Few exotic beasts could defeat Weiwei. Even if it encountered something it could not best, as long as it pinned the enemy down until Chen Fan finished constructing defensive structures, they could subdue it with ease. In hindsight, bringing Weiwei along had been an exceptionally wise choice. "Domain Lord..." Having survived the ordeal, Zhou Mo and Wang Mazi hobbled over, leaning on each other for support. Gratitude shone in their eyes. "Thank goodness you arrived in time, Domain Lord, or we..." "Don't worry about it." Chen Fan shook his head. "This is an uncharted island, so danger is only to be expected. While there are no traces of human presence, other hazards are inevitable." Only then did he look down at the monkey king, which lay on the ground trembling with terror and confusion, not daring to flee again. After a brief pause, Chen Fan said softly, "Weiwei, beat him into submission. Take yourself a lackey." Weiwei let out a low, excited growl of comprehension, then clamped the monkey king in its jaws and swiftly crawled aside, carrying its captive off like a conqueror bearing away the spoils of war. Chen Fan did not intend to kill the monkey king. Every single one of these monkeys was an exotic beast. What kind of exotic beasts they were and what abilities they possessed remained unknown to him. Yet a troop of monkeys could not exist without a king, just as a pack of wolves could not exist without an alpha. Every species had a leader; kill one, and another would take its place. Furthermore, the island teemed with far too many monkeys to ever eradicate completely. Rather than slaughtering them to the last, it was far better to subjugate their king and have it manage the troop. He had noticed earlier that these Monkey Head Fruits appeared to be cultivated, or rather farmed, by the monkeys themselves. The monkeys had attacked only because the newcomers were harvesting the fruit en masse. Once Chen Fan and his people finished picking this harvest, they would not know how to replant the groves. The remaining labor would still fall to these monkeys. Subjugating them to cultivate Monkey Head Fruits on their behalf was by far the superior course. Taming exotic beasts was a troublesome affair. Each had its own temperament, requiring a different approach; not every beast was as easy to win over as Weiwei. Hence, Chen Fan had no desire to tame the monkey king himself, leaving the task to Weiwei instead. Humans had to jump through countless hoops to tame a beast, but between beasts, a sound beating was usually all it took to force submission. Chen Fan did not linger. He led Wang Mazi, Zhou Mo, and the others back to the high-speed rail portal, where the men swallowed healing pills to treat their injuries while Chen Fan continued scouting the surroundings. Apart from these monkeys, he found no other native inhabitants on the island for the time being. The monkeys' staple diet seemed to be Monkey Head Fruits. It was quite a luxury. He did not know the exact market price of a Monkey Head Fruit, as he had never seen one traded before, but he estimated that a single heavenly material of that caliber would fetch at least two or three thousand ghost stones. For these monkeys to consume one a day was truly an extravagant waste. Just then, Chen Fan spotted Weiwei swaggering back toward him, pride practically written across its face. Beside it shuffled the monkey king, looking somewhat timid, clutching a braised chicken drumstick in its paws. Chen Fan recognized the drumstick immediately—it was one of the braised specialties prepared by Zhao Shengping in Fan Domain. Weiwei let out a low growl, as though announcing that the subjugation was complete. "Smooth." Chen Fan stared expressionlessly at the crocodile and the monkey. He had a pretty good idea of how Weiwei had pulled it off. It had likely beaten the creature senseless first, then produced its beloved chicken drumstick as a peace offering, winning the monkey king over in an instant. It was obvious that the monkey king was utterly enamored with the drumstick in its hands. In truth, Chen Fan doubted Weiwei had even needed to offer something so delicious; on an island where food was so monotonous, almost anything tasty would have won the monkey over. Then again, where had Weiwei learned the art of the carrot and the stick? Its execution of the tactic was alarmingly proficient. "Not bad." Chen Fan smiled. Regardless of the method, the problem was solved. "Weiwei, ask him if they usually live on Monkey Head Fruits. Do they know how to plant and tend them? Ask for any information about the island—and whether there are other people here." Chen Fan could manage basic communication with Weiwei through eye contact and body language. While he could not do the same with the monkey king, Weiwei could easily bridge the gap. Catching on immediately, Weiwei turned to the monkey king and growled. The monkey king gesticulated frantically with its arms, and before long, Weiwei growled once more. Chen Fan nodded thoughtfully. From the information relayed by Weiwei, he learned that no humans had set foot on this island for ages; they were the very first to land here. Furthermore, no ghost creatures had ever breached the shores. That was somewhat unusual. The sea was rife with ghost creatures, yet none had landed on this island. In truth, a question had lingered in his mind: how could an island give birth to so many heavenly materials and earthly treasures? They could hardly have sprung up entirely on their own. It had all looked deliberately planted. Yet if someone had planted them, why had no one harvested them? Could they have been seeded by some ancient faction before the ghost tides wiped it out? Now he had his answer. The monkeys had cultivated them. The troop's primary daily task was planting trees—specifically, planting Monkey Head Fruit trees. The fruit served as their main food source; a single juicy Monkey Head Fruit could keep a monkey full for an entire day. Of course, the monkeys did not eat them every day. Most of the time, they went down to the coast to catch fish. Even with so many fruit trees, the supply was not enough for daily consumption by the entire troop, making the fruit a luxury even for them. As for the other heavenly materials on the island, the monkeys had no idea where they had come from. Those treasures had existed long before the current generation was born, but because they were useless to the troop, the monkeys had left them untouched and undamaged. They were remarkably well-behaved. As for why Monkey Head Fruits grew in such abundance, it was entirely the monkeys' doing. They had planted Monkey Head Fruit trees across every parcel of arable land on the island. Everything Chen Fan saw before him was the accumulated labor of generations of monkeys. Put another way, his group had essentially acted like bandits, barging into land that someone else had tended for years to plunder its riches. Then again... perhaps "plunder" was no longer the right word. Chen Fan watched the scene before him with a peculiar expression. By now, the monkey king was screeching at the top of its lungs, summoning all the monkeys across the island to gather before them. Weiwei lay on the ground with grand, stately poise. Led by their king, the monkeys paraded past Weiwei one by one, presenting themselves for inspection. Each time one passed, Weiwei spat out a chicken drumstick to reward it. The moment their teeth sank into the meat, the monkeys' eyes turned rimmed with red. Evidently, this savory cooked treat far surpassed the Monkey Head Fruits and raw fish they had subsisted on. One after another, they bowed and scraped excitedly before Weiwei. The troop that had been feral and violent moments ago now appeared utterly tame, even obedient. "Impressive." Chen Fan stood in silence, speechless for a long time. He had never expected Weiwei to possess such flair for subjugating other exotic beasts. It also made him realize something: while Zhao Shengping's braised dishes were mouthwatering to humans, people merely enjoyed the taste without becoming overly emotional. For exotic beasts, however, it was a completely different story. They had never tasted cooked food in their lives; taking a bite of a braised chicken drumstick was no different from stepping straight out of hell into paradise. Chen Fan had not given much thought to that distinction, but Weiwei's instincts on the matter had been spot-on. After a thorough beating, followed by a drumstick, the monkeys had become Weiwei's loyal lackeys. They trailed behind it obediently, attending to its every whim. Weiwei looked thoroughly magnificent, generously doling out a drumstick to every last monkey. The corner of Chen Fan's mouth twitched. He knew all too well that this was no small sacrifice for Weiwei. Normally, the creature guarded its braised meats more jealously than its own life; to distribute one to every monkey meant it was making a massive investment. Even a crocodile, once it became the boss, learned how to be generous. A leader had to feed their subordinates if they expected loyalty. *Roar!* Having concluded its review of the troop, Weiwei turned to Chen Fan and let out a low rumble. Taking the cue, the monkeys immediately fell into a neat line facing Chen Fan and bowed in unison. The spectacle was utterly bizarre, reminiscent of a scene from a mob movie where lackeys lined up outside a prison gate to welcome their boss's release. Had they been human, it would have been merely dramatic, but coming from a troop of monkeys, it was delightfully surreal. Chen Fan understood the message Weiwei was conveying: *I may be your boss, but I have a boss too, and his name is Chen Fan.* Weiwei let out another low growl. "Perfection." Chen Fan exhaled a long breath, murmuring with admiration, "Once we get back, I'll establish a Beast Pavilion. Weiwei, you'll be its Pavilion Master. From now on, you will oversee all matters concerning exotic beasts." Weiwei was simply too adept at handling its own kind. As Fan Domain expanded, it would undoubtedly encounter more exotic beasts, and Weiwei would be the perfect candidate to take charge. Weiwei had just informed him that, besides bringing the troop into line, it had instructed the monkeys to keep planting trees and cultivating Monkey Head Fruits. In return, it would bring them delicious braised treats every day as their monthly stipend. Indeed, Weiwei was paying them wages out of its own personal stash of braised meats. "Rest assured," Chen Fan said with a laugh, "you won't have to foot the bill for their wages. Fan Domain will cover it. From now on, whenever you need braised meat, go straight to Zhao Shengping and tell him it's a special allocation for your Beast Pavilion." Excitement shone in Weiwei's eyes. It was clearly thrilled by the prospect of this Beast Pavilion. After spending about two more hours surveying the island, Chen Fan and his companions boarded the high-speed rail once more, setting off on the return journey to Fan Domain. Apart from the Sea Embryos and Mountain Embryos, they had discovered no other exceptional treasures. The vast majority were Monkey Head Fruits, alongside a small number of other materials—all of green grade, none reaching yellow grade. Their inherent tier was not particularly high. However, heavenly materials could not be judged by grade alone. For instance, the Mountain Skeleton Embryo was only a green-grade treasure, yet it played a monumental role in Fan Domain. Without it, constructing the undersea tunnel and the high-speed rail line would have been virtually impossible. On the return trip, they carried very few Monkey Head Fruits; their small party could not transport much anyway. The original plan had been to mobilize members of Fan Domain to harvest the fruit, but that was no longer necessary. They could simply employ the island's native monkeys. The monkeys gathered the fruit quickly and cleanly with almost no damage to the harvest. Better still, they required no rest and no silver—a few braised chicken drumsticks were all the payment they asked for. They were the ultimate source of cheap, flawless labor. Nor was their usefulness limited to harvesting fruit. Once they pushed forward to the New Continent, these monkeys would be outstanding helpers for collecting ghost stones. With several hundred monkeys working together, the collection speed would be incredible. Besides, exotic beasts had little interest in ghost stones, so there was no need to worry about them hoarding stones on the sly. If anything, the only real concern was that they might stash away chicken drumsticks. A sudden crisis with a monkey troop had inadvertently resolved one of his biggest logistical hurdles. It was a wonderful outcome. While Chen Fan's party was on their way back, the monkeys were already hard at work harvesting fruit, eagerly anticipating their return the following day—and the fresh, piping-hot braised treats they would bring. It was a long journey, and night had already fallen over Fan Domain by the time they arrived. Without stopping at the port, the high-speed rail tore through the darkness and glided straight into Fan Domain. Illuminated at night by ghost fire, the high-speed rail corridor looked like an unbroken tunnel of golden light, resembling a vital artery of Fan Domain laid across the Jiangbei Wasteland—a magnificent sight. By then, Xiao Qiu, who had received word in advance and made all the preparations, walked out of the main hall holding a specially crafted command token representing the Pavilion Master of the Beast Pavilion. The token was designed to slot neatly into the scales of Weiwei's foreleg. If it wanted to put the token away, it could swallow it into its storage stomach; otherwise, it could keep it wedged securely in its scales. Weiwei was ecstatic, thumping its tail against the ground as it hugged the token. Chen Fan looked at the thrashing tail and chuckled with wry amusement. "The official appointment is hereby declared: Fan Domain establishes the Beast Pavilion, with Weiwei as its Pavilion Master, overseeing all exotic beasts within Fan Domain." Standing nearby, Wang Mazi gave Weiwei an odd look. He had always gotten along well with the creature, but he had never imagined that one day Weiwei would hold equal rank with him. Weiwei was now a bona fide Pavilion Master, on the exact same footing as himself. In other words... If he wanted to address Weiwei formally in the future, he could no longer just call it Weiwei. He would have to address it as Pavilion Master Wei. Soon enough, the night passed, and dawn broke. Chen Fan packed some gear in preparation for an extended journey. He intended to continue constructing the undersea tunnel. The tunnel had only completed its first phase, reaching the island; an even longer road lay ahead before it reached the New Continent. While these heavenly materials were valuable to Fan Domain, they required a massive influx of ghost stones to unlock their true worth. Furthermore, the distance between the island and Fan Domain was considerable, and traveling back and forth consumed too much time. For the coming period, Chen Fan planned to reside temporarily on the island, establishing a simple base camp and continuing to excavate the seabed alongside Weiwei. This would spare them the daily commute. Before departure, Hou was chosen to accompany him, while Wang Kui stayed behind to guard the home base. "Domain Lord," Wang Kui asked hesitantly, "should we postpone the Fan Domain Communications initiative for a while longer?" "Yes." Chen Fan nodded slightly. "There's no rush for that. If our harvest of ghost stones on the New Continent is large enough, we might not release Fan Domain Communications to the outside world at all. We'll keep it as a proprietary asset exclusive to Fan Domain." "If anything urgent comes up," "just send a voice transmission." Indeed. He had once remarked that if anyone could transmit a message from Hope Island all the way back to Fan Domain, he would acknowledge them as a true genius. Hope Island lay over a thousand kilometers from the Eternal Night Continent—over such a staggering expanse, ordinary voice transmission talismans were utterly useless. Yet he... could do it. Fan Domain had Signal Towers. Granted, a Signal Tower could not be placed on the open sea, as it was a structure requiring solid ground. But since Weiwei could hollow out a tunnel along the seabed, excavating a spacious cavern at a midway junction to house a Signal Tower was child's play. At this moment, a Signal Tower already stood within the midway section of the undersea tunnel. Messages between Hope Island and Fan Domain could be delivered in the blink of an eye. Whatever unexpected crisis arose, he would be notified immediately and could hurry back. The Fan Domain of today was no longer the fragile faction that lacked foundation during the rainy season. Piece by piece, its reserves and strengths had been steadily built up. Sea Embryos, Mountain Embryos, and various other exotic treasures had all been safely cataloged and stored in the warehouse. "Right, that reminds me—" Wang Kui suddenly remembered something. "Domain Lord, could you upgrade the Warehouse? Its storage capacity is running short." "Oh, right." Chen Fan slapped his forehead and strode toward the encampment. He had upgraded numerous structures recently, but the Warehouse had remained untouched. Not because he was unwilling, but because the Warehouse was a non-upgradable structure. It was born at Level 1, possessing only Level 1 with no Level 2 available. It could not be upgraded. Therefore... if the Warehouse was running out of space, the only solution was to build another. "Smooth." Chen Fan entered the camp and looked at the Warehouse sitting inside the cavern. He summoned Weiwei to widen the chamber slightly, then constructed a second Warehouse alongside the first. A brand-new Warehouse. Now there would be ample capacity. The Warehouse came equipped with a Mustard Seed Chamber capable of storing vast quantities of goods. Seeing it filled to the brim made him curious about what was packed inside; it had been a long time since he last inspected the inventory, having relied entirely on Wang Kui's reports. He stepped into the older Warehouse nearby. Pushing open the heavy door to the Mustard Seed Chamber, he gazed upon the ghost stones piled almost to the ceiling and let out a long sigh. "Well, I suppose having too many ghost stones is a burden of its own." The Mustard Seed Chamber was packed almost exclusively with ghost stones. The space inside was immense. When he had first constructed the Warehouse, he had never imagined that the day would come when the Mustard Seed Chamber would be filled to bursting. "Hmm..." Chen Fan stood in the cavern, gazing at the two Warehouses in contemplation. Fan Domain had originally established its camp at Nameless Mountain primarily because the mountain offered natural choke points that were easy to defend and difficult to assault. Now, with the rapid growth of Fan Domain, Nameless Mountain was proving far too cramped. Many buildings could no longer fit. Take the Warehouses, for example. Two would certainly not suffice in the future; they would need at least ten. Or the Spirit Accumulation Pavilion— one was already running short, and they needed a second. He now possessed the strength to build a city upon the plains and defend it against all comers. It was time to erect a colossal fortress on the plains adjacent to Nameless Mountain. This city would not be open to outsiders; only members of Fan Domain would be permitted entry. Of course, this place would not be abandoned either. Numerous items remained embedded in the ghost fire here that could not be relocated, providing substantial qualitative bonuses. It was simply a matter of raising a new city alongside it. Chen Fan did not linger. After giving Wang Kui a few final instructions, he boarded the high-speed rail with Hou, Weiwei, and the others, setting off once again for the island. Constructing a fortress city would not take much time; all it required was an adequate supply of ghost stones. Breaking through to the New Continent was an absolute imperative. The Jiangbei Defense Line was well within reach! After a journey of nearly four hours, the high-speed rail finally arrived at Hope Island. Stepping out, they saw an enormous, neatly arranged pile of Monkey Head Fruits on the ground. A dense crowd of monkeys sat nearby, well-behaved and full of eager anticipation. They had clearly been waiting for a long time; at the sight of the newcomers, they scratched their heads in a mix of excitement and lingering apprehension. "Excellent." Chen Fan grinned. The island's native inhabitants were delightfully cooperative. With a wave of his hand, Weiwei, lounging nearby, clamped a massive vat in its jaws and began distributing chicken drumsticks one by one. Zhao Shengping had worked through the night to brew up a massive batch. Each monkey sat meekly on the ground, receiving its drumstick with careful, trembling excitement. In truth, Weiwei had two stomachs: one was a normal digestive stomach, while the other was an internal storage space. Last time, the drumsticks Weiwei had spat out were completely intact, drawn from its storage space without a drop of gastric acid or saliva. Even so, the presentation had been rather unrefined. If one was paying wages to subordinates, constantly spitting food out of one's maw felt demeaning, bordering on an insult. This time, the distribution was far more dignified. Before long, several hundred monkeys had devoured their drumsticks in unison. Following Weiwei's gestures, they hauled the piles of Monkey Head Fruits into the railcars behind them. With the press of a button, the high-speed rail plummeted down the vertical shaft. Loaded to maximum capacity with Monkey Head Fruits, the train would make its return trip, depositing the entire bounty into Fan Domain's Warehouses. "Weiwei," "time for us to get to work." Chen Fan watched the departure with a smile, then turned to Weiwei. With a low growl of comprehension, Weiwei dove into the deep shaft, calibrated its direction, and resumed carving through the seabed. Chen Fan boarded another rail carriage, following close behind to lay copper pipes along the newly hollowed tunnel, aiming straight for the Thunderstorm Sea! In the tunnel behind them, multiple high-speed rail carriages were already operating in a steady cycle, ferrying massive shipments of Monkey Head Fruits back to Fan Domain. Meanwhile, on the opposite end— along the forward front line of the Eternal Night Continent. Across a boundless plain, a razor-straight wall stretched beyond the horizon, bisecting the land like a demarcation line between two worlds. To the left of the wall, hordes of humans hurried back and forth, every one of them bearing visible signs of exhaustion and trauma. To the right of the wall, mounting piles of ghost creature corpses lay sprawled in pools of blood. Multiple gates along the wall stood open, and legions of laborers carrying tools marched out to extract ghost stones from the corpses, salvage valuable ghost materials such as ghost bones, and scour the field for exotic treasures. The wall stood thirty meters high. At a glance, it looked like an insurmountable precipice. Yet... numerous scars and fractures marred its surface. The wall's original color had long been obscured, buried beneath thick coats of crusted blood and viscous green fluid. Along the ramparts, countless figures bustled frantically. Some were repairing the sections damaged the previous night; some were inspecting the ammunition consumption of each cannon tower and restocking them with ghost stones; still others were constructing brand-new cannon towers. Hundreds of thousands of souls labored across this endless wall, like colonies of ants tending to their hive. "Hey!" A middle-aged man clad in battered armor strode over to a young man, panting heavily. "What are you spacing out for? Hurry up and repair the wall! Last night's ghost tide grew far more violent, and tonight's assault is bound to be even worse!" The young man said nothing. He remained crouched on the rampart, staring into a corner. There, a narrow tunnel had been thrown together by ants— red ants, it seemed. Constructed from secretions and grit, such covered trails usually appeared on tree trunks; seeing one on a fortress wall was rare. Ants built these covered passages to protect themselves from natural predators. The next moment, the young man reached out with his right hand and pressed down firmly on the tunnel, crushing a section to dust. In a daze, the young man murmured, "I'm wondering if the defense line we built has any real value. Perhaps it's just like this tunnel the ants made—they think it's indestructible, but a single touch shatters it to pieces." The armored middle-aged man frowned deeply, not answering right away. He knew that recent events had dealt a severe blow to the young architect. He simply waited patiently. Sure enough, swarms of ants surged out from both ends of the broken passage, setting to work patching the breach. Within moments, the crushed section had been completely restored. "You see?" The middle-aged man smiled. "Even if the defense line breaks, more people will come to mend it." "This line of ours is called Defense Line 7." "It is the most critical defense line on the Eternal Night Continent. Right now, the main force of the ghost tide is hammering the vanguard front; what spills over to us is merely an offshoot. Our pressure isn't overwhelming, but we must hold firm." "If our line breaks," "behind us lies an open, defenseless plain." "Countless factions and common folk would have no way to withstand a ghost tide of this scale. Incalculable lives would be lost." "I know." The young architect stood up and walked to the edge of the parapet, gazing out toward the coastline several kilometers away. He spoke softly, "Of course I know." "I just can't understand." "Defense Line 7 protects their lives. Without it, everyone across the Guandong Plain would die. They ought to be grateful to us." "So why aren't they grateful? Why do they refuse to spare even a few ghost stones to aid us?" The middle-aged man choked on his words, at a loss for an answer. This front line had been constructed by the Eternal Night Hall, and the ghost stones used to maintain it were normally allocated directly by them. The Eternal Night Hall was not a single sect or faction, but an alliance. Any faction could join it. Established jointly by the strongest powers of the Eternal Night Continent, it had rallied a vast coalition of factions to pool their resources, erecting multiple lines of defense across the continent to hold the ghost creatures at bay. Most people only knew that when night fell, ghost creatures appeared. Little did they realize that the ghost creatures roaming the interior of the Eternal Night Continent were merely minor rabble. The truly terrifying horrors lurked in the sea, striving every moment to storm the mainland—and every one of them was held back by the defense lines established by the Eternal Night Hall. Should any single defense line collapse, the resulting catastrophe would be absolute annihilation. After a long silence, the middle-aged man spoke in a gravelly voice. "To tell you the truth..." "The situation at the vanguard front is dire. Many ghost creatures have developed spiritual awareness, becoming far more cunning and difficult to deal with. Several defense lines have already fallen." "The Eternal Night Hall paid a staggering price to throw together secondary defense lines behind the breaches, barely keeping the ghost tides contained." "Even so, vast swaths of land were lost." "Countless people died." "The losses were catastrophic." "The Eternal Night Hall no longer has the manpower to spare to help us resolve these disputes. Even the ghost stones sent our way were squeezed out with great difficulty. We've already dispatched men to the major factions across the Guandong Plain behind us to levy ghost stones. The results haven't been great, but they managed to gather a meager amount." If the Eternal Night Hall had the troops to spare, none of this squabbling would exist. Hand over your ghost stones, and you live. Refuse, and you die. With the entire continent teetering on the brink of annihilation, no one would bother preaching about virtue or benevolence. The men on the wall wanted to do the exact same thing, but they lacked the military muscle; they were only tasked with guarding and maintaining this defense line, holding authority over the structures along the wall, but possessing nowhere near the strength to march into the domains of those great factions and clash with them head-on. The young man said nothing, merely staring toward the distant shore. When a forest fire broke out, the most effective way to extinguish it was to clear a swath of trees outside the advancing perimeter, denying the fire fuel to spread on the wind. If a defense line broke, the emergency protocol was identical: build a makeshift secondary line further back. Of course, the price was horrific. Almost no human trapped between the old line and the new could hope to survive. The strongholds of those interior factions were more than adequate against the ordinary ghost tides of the continent, but against a tide pouring out of the ocean depths, their defenses were nothing short of laughable. The wall beneath their feet was a Level 6 wall. Even Defense Line 7—ninety-seven kilometers long and built entirely of Level 6 walls—faced the risk of falling. What could those minor factions possibly hope to defend with? "In recent years, more and more grand array nodes have failed. The lines of defense the Eternal Night Hall must maintain keep growing, and it's becoming... unsustainable." The middle-aged man had intended to bolster the young architect's spirits, but as he spoke, fatigue weighed heavily upon him as well. Leaning against the crenel, he gazed out toward the sea, murmuring, He was privy to more intelligence than most. He knew that the Eternal Night Continent... might genuinely not survive this cycle of the Eternal Night. The Eternal Night Continent was a single, unbroken landmass. As for its exact shape, he did not know. It certainly was not a neat square, surrounded on all sides by the ocean. At the heart of the continent lay a grand array—or so it was called; as for what it truly was, he had no idea, for such classified secrets lay far beyond his clearance. He knew only that this grand array protected the Eternal Night Continent, shielding it from the incursions of oceanic ghost creatures. Yet over the years, more and more nodes of the array had broken down. This meant that ghost creatures from the sea could make landfall through those compromised points, forcing the Eternal Night Hall to construct defense lines over the failing nodes to bar the monsters outside. If a single line fell, it meant the Eternal Night Continent had to scramble to construct a secondary defense line in the rear—one several times longer than the original—to bridge the gap between the flanking intact nodes. For example— Defense Line 7, where they stood, stretched ninety-seven kilometers and consisted entirely of Level 6 walls. If it fell, the Eternal Night Hall would have to construct a concave defense line hundreds of kilometers long further inland, walling off the entire breached territory. The cost of such an endeavor would be an astronomical figure. Several defense lines along the front had already fallen. Once the number of breaches surpassed a critical threshold and the Eternal Night Hall lacked the resources to plug them, what awaited the continent would be... an unending tide of horrors pouring through the gap into the interior, rendering all the other defense lines completely meaningless. Just like a wooden bucket, the loss of a single stave ruined its ability to hold any water at all. "By the way—" The young man suddenly thought of something and asked softly, "What about the Jiangbei Defense Line? That person left a long time ago. Has that front been reinforced?" "No." The middle-aged man shook his head. "The aura That Person left behind before departing was enough to deter the creatures there for years. It won't dissipate for another four years or so." "Until then, that section won't fall." "There were two reasons he was sent to guard it alone back then. First, his lifespan was nearing its end, so placing him in sole charge of the Jiangbei Defense Line allowed him to claim the entirety of the Heavenly Dao blessings to extend his life." "Second, the undersea creatures off Jiangbei aren't exceptionally savage. He was more than enough on his own." "Supposedly..." "The Eternal Night Hall intends to wait four years. If he hasn't returned by then, they'll dispatch people to Jiangbei to construct a new line and seal the gap." "Though..." The middle-aged man hesitated for a moment, then sighed softly. "If not for the rule that the fall of the continent would instantly strip surviving humans of their racial identity and deprive them of every measure of power," "the Eternal Night Hall would have poured all its resources into building an impregnable pocket citadel long ago. Why would they bother about the rest of the continent? No one would give a damn about whether we lived or died." "Heh." The young man let out a bitter laugh. "When we hold the line, the Heavenly Dao deems us meritorious and grants us blessings. Yet the moment we fail, it immediately revokes our racial identity and recognizes the Ghost Clan instead." "What kind of Heavenly Dao is that?" "Isn't it just an unprincipled turncoat?" The middle-aged man's mouth twitched, and he glanced nervously at the cloud-choked sky above, half-expecting a bolt of lightning to strike them down. After a tense silence, he murmured, "The Heavenly Dao is not like humans; it possesses no self-awareness." "It merely senses the continent being invaded and reacts with an instinctive defense mechanism. Supposedly, the core grand array itself is a product of the Heavenly Dao. Each time a tract of land is overrun, the Heavenly Dao loses a fraction of its power, creating more breaches." "Once humanity is completely defeated," "the Heavenly Dao of the Eternal Night Continent will perish alongside us." "A new Heavenly Dao will then be born—one that recognizes the racial identity of the Ghost Clan. That is precisely what the creatures are striving for." "It isn't a turncoat." "The Heavenly Dao of our continent will stand with us until the very last piece of land falls, fighting to the death alongside the human race." Just then— an armored soldier sprinted up to the two men, reporting in an urgent whisper, "Heavenly Master, the greatest faction on the Guandong Plain, Fengtian Tower, has abandoned its headquarters! By the time we discovered it, everyone had already fled, leaving behind only a few outer disciples. Their whereabouts are completely unknown." "Incredible." The young man laughed out of sheer fury. "Fengtian Tower has stood for centuries, erecting countless grand structures, and they just discarded it all on a whim?" "All to avoid handing over a few ghost stones?" "No." The middle-aged man pondered for a moment, then suddenly broke into a cold grin. "It means they've caught wind of something. If I'm not mistaken, the Eternal Night Hall has dispatched enforcers. As the ringleader refusing to pay ghost stones, Fengtian Tower was bound to be purged first." "It looks like we won't have to worry about ghost stones for a while." The very next moment! A colossal flying boat approached the wall at breakneck speed, coming to a hover in midair at an altitude flush with the ramparts. Over a hundred varied cannon towers were mounted across its deck, armed to the absolute teeth. A bare-chested man wearing black trousers strode down toward the two with a dark, brooding expression. Drawing a command token from his robes, he rasped, "Tianyi of the Eternal Night Hall." "Lead me to the factions refusing to pay their ghost stones." The man radiated a ferociously violent aura. His bloodshot eyes looked as though he had gone without sleep for days, and his words were steeped in chilling malice. Every breath and movement made one thing abundantly clear: Blood was going to be spilled today.