Having light did not mean all their problems were solved; the marsh's miserable terrain continued to hinder the group.
Sodden, muddy ground stretched in every direction, soft and yielding. With every step, water and muck oozed up, severely impeding both their movement and their search.
Chen Chuan could move much more easily on his own, but since he was operating under credentials from the investigation delegation, he could not simply leave these people behind.
Furthermore, he needed them to spot critical clues—such as covert signals Skarson might have left behind—which Chen Chuan himself would not be able to identify.
So he chose to take the lead. With every step he took, the wet mud beneath his feet evaporated rapidly and turned dry and firm. Wisps of steam drifted upward, scattering in the overhead light to form a faint, swirling mist. Combined with the algae oil lamps carried in everyone's hands, the members felt as though they had walked straight into a scene from an ancient myth or supernatural tale.
Thanks to this, the members could follow behind him without hesitation or worry, marveling silently at what they were witnessing. They had gone on many missions with Skarson and other delegation members, yet they had never felt this safe and at ease.
They pushed deeper into the marsh along its waterways and noticeable signs of past passage. Along the way, they were fortunate enough to find several stone markers left behind by Skarson. Relying on these, after trekking for more than two hours, they finally reached the location marked on the map.
It was very easy to recognize. A withered, silvery-white tree stood there, giving the place its name on the map: "White Tree Shoal."
The group surveyed their surroundings. Just like the areas they had crossed to get here, low shrubs and weeds covered the ground, and dead tree trunks lay scattered across the muck, their bark overgrown with thick moss.
Decaying carcasses of animals and rotted vegetation floated on the water, giving off a pervasive stench of damp rot. The grating drone of insects had buzzed in their ears the entire way. While none could penetrate the sphere of light shining above them, the sight of countless winged shapes swarming against the glow was enough to raise goosebumps.
Perched atop a fallen trunk, a cluster of local carrion-eating vultures stood huddled together in small groups, seemingly asleep. Even when the light swept over them, they were not overly alarmed; only a few shifted uncomfortably to adjust their posture.
The team leader glanced at the map and said, "Mr. Chen, according to the diagram, it should be somewhere around here. It won't be easy to find if we stay bunched up. How about we split up to search?"
The spot Skarson had marked on the diagram looked small on paper, but out here it encompassed an immense area. Vegetation in the marsh was dense, and something merely feet away could easily go unnoticed without a close look.
Chen Chuan nodded. "Very well. Fan out, but keep in contact with signals."
The leader divided the assignments. Except for the telegraph team, everyone carefully spread out. They soon noticed that wherever they went, the light source hovering above followed them, which bolstered their courage considerably.
Half an hour passed in the search. Having made it this far, the group felt no need to rush, systematically checking each sector over and over again.
Just then, the portable radio transceiver they carried suddenly started chattering. The telegraph operator immediately donned his headset to receive the transmission.
The team leader watched closely. This place was completely desolate, and radio was their only link to the outside world. For this operation, to guard against communication breakdowns, another telegraph team had been stationed in the vehicles left behind outside the marsh.
Once the message was decoded, the leader picked it up and read it. A look of delight crossed his face, and he said with some excitement to Chen Chuan, "Mr. Chen, it's a telegram from our chief! Oh—he addressed it to you!" With that, he handed it over with both hands.
Chen Chuan took it, recalling information about the man in his mind.
Klofens Meteora, the head of the International Investigation Team. He was the spiritual leader of the entire delegation, and in the community of martial artists, his influence easily ranked among the top three in the world.
He was the delegation's second-generation leader. It was fair to say that the delegation's ability to maintain its present scale and prestige after the collapse of the Grand Alliance was inextricably linked to him. It was also his formidable stature that compelled various nations to grant the delegation respect and leeway.
However, he was said to have spent years stationed at the Ring of the World fighting entities from the other side, rarely meddling in the delegation's daily affairs. This incident had apparently drawn even his attention.
The telegram's contents were concise. The chief expressed deep gratitude for Chen Chuan's support and dedication to the delegation, stating that he would liaise with all relevant parties to grant him every convenience. He also requested that the Great Shun delegation help protect the remaining members of the investigation team.
After a moment's thought, Chen Chuan said to the leader, "Please reply to your chief: upholding international security affairs is the duty of our Great Shun delegation. We will provide your people with all appropriate assistance."
Energized by the chief's message, the leader replied vigorously, "Understood, Mr. Chen. I will send the reply right away."
Under his direction, the telegraph operator tapped out the response. Moments later, the radio chimed again. Thinking it was another message from headquarters, the operator tuned in, but a look of bafflement soon appeared on his face.
The leader asked immediately, "What is it?"
The operator swiftly decoded the contents, handed over the transcript, and said, "Leader, this telegram isn't meant for us. The format is from twenty or thirty years ago—hardly anyone uses this cipher anymore. According to the signal, they claim to be from the Seashell Expedition, calling for help from anyone who receives the broadcast."
"The Seashell Expedition?" Surprised, the leader snatched the transcript.
Chen Chuan asked, "Is there something unusual about this expedition?"
The leader weighed his words before replying, "Well, Mr. Chen, if it's the Seashell Expedition I'm thinking of... it was a prominent private pioneer team from the Federation's early days. They were very famous, founded by a well-known Federation tycoon specifically to explore the Federation's Confluence. But... they vanished thirty years ago. It was in all the papers back then. I even bought souvenirs of theirs when I was a boy, so the name stuck with me."
Chen Chuan gave a slight nod. A telegram from an expedition that had vanished decades ago surfacing here was certainly strange. It could be tied to the local environment, or perhaps directly connected to the New Light Cult. However, the person they were looking for was not that expedition, so there was no need to dwell on it for now.
After another half hour of searching, the dispersed searchers finally found something and fired a flare into the night sky.
Seeing the flare, the squads hurried over. As their lights gathered, the area was illuminated in bright clarity.
It was a sunken depression that had formed a natural pit. The surrounding vegetation had been cleared away, and widespread scorch marks scarred the ground.
The delegation members were thoroughly familiar with sacrifices. They clustered around to examine the site and quickly confirmed that it was indeed a sacrifice pit, one that had been used within the last ten days.
After inspecting it with the others, the leader returned to Chen Chuan's side. "Mr. Chen, it bears all the hallmarks of the New Light Cult. A considerable number of people were sacrificed here. Judging by the size of the pit, no fewer than fifty victims. There are no First People tribes nearby, nor are there any settlements within a hundred kilometers, so they must have been transported in by airship."
He added with certainty, "If we search around, there are bound to be traces of ropes where people were lowered down!"
The delegation members expanded their search perimeter and indeed uncovered signs of foot traffic. From the lingering footprints and impressions, the victims were likely half male and half female, all young adults—fully matching the standard criteria for New Light Cult sacrifices.
Chen Chuan pondered this. Going out of their way to bring victims to such a desolate wilderness for sacrifice fit the usual cultist pattern. Yet the New Light Cult typically showed no regard for keeping things hidden, which meant this location held some unique significance.
As he contemplated this, he suddenly sensed a faint ripple of mental power. He stepped forward a few paces and stared intently at the ground.
Unsure of what he had spotted, the delegation members watched him closely.
Moments later, faint specks of black ash emerged from the mud, still maintaining the formation in which they had fallen. As more black ash surfaced, the faint outline of a bent, crooked shape became discernible.
None of the onlookers understood what they were seeing.
The leader asked, "Mr. Chen, this is...?"
"An arm," Chen Chuan said. "A martial artist's arm, dissolved by the fire of spirituality."
A chill ran through everyone.
Chen Chuan studied it. If his judgment was correct, the arm's owner had been engaged in aerial combat and suffered an unexpected, sudden spiritual impact. Unable to dodge in time, half the arm had been destroyed in an instant.
However, the individual had promptly used their mental power to shield the remaining remnants, preventing them from scattering completely even after all this time.
It had been done deliberately to leave a trail for searchers coming after him.
Light emanated from Chen Chuan's body, and under the watchful eyes of the group, he slowly floated up into the air.
He looked off in a certain direction and spotted an explosive crater several kilometers away.
Water had already filled it. That, too, was the aftermath of a powerful spiritual impact, though in this environment, it would have been nearly impossible to spot without looking closely.
The owner of this arm was most likely Skarson, though it was still too early to draw a definitive conclusion.
Aside from the spiritual impact, there were no other signs of combat here. That meant Skarson had either fled swiftly after evading the attack, or the battle had concluded in an extraordinarily short time.
As he considered the possibilities, the radio below buzzed again. The operator quickly pulled on his headphones to receive the transmission. As he jotted down the decoded text, his face turned pale, and he rushed to hand the paper to the leader.
Upon reading it, the leader's expression shifted drastically as well. He looked up toward the sky and said in extreme agitation, "Mr. Chen, the convoy outside just received a warning forwarded from Center City. They've detected that the world-wanted criminal and dangerous Federation fugitive, Derrick Walch, has been sighted in this area! They're telling us to evacuate immediately!"
Chapter 1127