South of the Federation's West Continent, on the Feidikan Continent.
A stone gate belonging to an ancient temple of the First People was blasted open.
Shattered rocks littered the ground, and a twisted bronze door bolt fell onto the earth ahead.
A man clad in a long leather coat and a wide-brimmed hat picked the bolt up. His ocular implants dilated and constricted several times. Seeing that it was merely ordinary bronze, he lost interest and tossed it aside, though another hand caught it before it could strike the dirt.
It was an elderly, scholarly-looking man leaning on a hiking staff. He turned the piece over, inspecting it from every angle, and remarked, "Early Petia bronze ware. Back then, they still relied on techniques brought over from the Eastern Continent." He peered ahead. "This temple ought to date back roughly a thousand years."
From behind, someone asked with intense interest, "Professor Nowitzki, is there any gold?"
"Perhaps."
Professor Nowitzki gave a shrug.
A cheer erupted from the surrounding men, the din completely drowning out his next words.
"Though gold is hardly the most valuable thing in a temple."
While the man in the wide-brimmed hat also gazed hungrily into the temple interior, he did not join the cheering. He knew full well that great wealth invariably traveled hand in hand with great danger.
In truth, these ruins had entered the sights of the Federation government and various corporations long ago.
Yet during the pioneer era, settlers in the nearby colonies had frequently perished under inexplicable circumstances. No matter how many expeditions were launched or what countermeasures were deployed, the issue could not be resolved. Although fighters possessed far greater resistance, reclaiming land and establishing strongholds still depended on ordinary folk, leaving them no choice in the end but to abandon the region.
After the founding of the Federation, two follow-up studies were conducted. They detected a highly infectious biological pathogen capable of triggering widespread mortality among living organisms, withering vegetation, wiping out fauna, and wreaking catastrophic damage on the ecosystem.
What was more, the contagion was not confined to the physical world; even creatures within the Confluence fell victim to its effects.
To prevent the pathogen from spreading, the early Federation government designated this entire region as a high-risk quarantine zone, strictly forbidding entry to all personnel.
Only in recent years did historians unearth numerous accounts regarding the region from historical records of the First People, stumbling upon methods to counter the blight. Around the same time, the National Biological Institute discovered that the local pathogen was gradually dissipating for reasons unknown, paving the way for exploration to resume.
Even so, the first to venture inside were ruin exploration teams and pioneer outfits driven solely by profit.
Their daring stemmed entirely from their greed for the untouched wealth lying within.
Once the smoke and the stagnant stench of decay cleared from the temple interior, the party donned their gas masks, pulled on protective suits, and cautiously filed inside.
The ritual implements within the temple remained remarkably well-preserved. Many were golden artifacts encrusted with gemstones, enough to make the men's eyes redden with greed.
Fortunately, they were a disciplined outfit. Rather than surging forward in an uncontrolled scramble, they carried the treasures outside in an orderly manner. A government-appointed appraiser was stationed outside to catalog and assess the haul, as every single valuable had to yield a reasonable "clearance fee" to the Federation based on its assessed worth.
The expedition team did not overlook a single item of value. In the end, they even hauled out the idol resting upon the shrine.
The statue was bizarre in the extreme. It possessed an eerie, bewitching countenance, yet four arms sprouted from its back, and upon its feet were shoes fashioned like the talons of a bird.
Even without an expert pointing it out, they could tell the idol was cobbled together from certain plant materials and desiccated animal limbs subjected to special preservation techniques.
Perhaps because of this composite nature, it gave off the unsettling impression of being alive, stoking an inexplicable dread and revulsion in their hearts.
One team member spat on the ground. "Disgusting rubbish from those savages."
Had Professor Nowitzki not insisted that the piece would fetch a fortune, he would have spat directly onto the idol's face.
Professor Nowitzki clearly placed immense value on the statue. From the moment it was carried into the open, he leaned close to inspect it, staring unblinkingly while pulling out notebooks to sketch and jot down details, utterly indifferent to the rest of the plunder.
After toiling for an entire day, the expedition members let their taut nerves unwind, and a giddy excitement took over.
They had arrived prepared for the worst, but the site had proved far less hazardous than anticipated. They had encountered neither the dreaded virus nor the grotesque beasts of legend, nor had there been any traps inside the temple. The riches had practically sat waiting for them to haul away.
It was nothing short of a bonanza!
Once the inventory was complete, they loaded the plunder onto pack horses prepared in advance and set off toward the nearest outpost.
Deep within the canyons and dense forests, this place lay more than five days' march from the "civilized world." Though their hearts had already soared ahead to the Center City of Cloudcrest Iridescence, an arduous trek still separated them from their destination.
"Keep your eyes peeled, all of you! Wipe those stupid grins off your faces! Don't forget the hyenas watching from the shadows!"
The man in the wide-brimmed hat barked a stern warning.
The return journey was precisely when they were most vulnerable. They had to watch out not only for rival outfits, but also for raiders who had caught wind of their haul, as well as the wild First People who occasionally ambushed travelers in the mountains.
At his words, everyone snapped to attention. Rivals and raiders were the ones they despised most; while their own team did the heavy lifting, those scavengers only cared about swooping in to reap the spoils.
For all they knew, such predators were already lying in wait.
Minutes later, several scouts detached from the main body, fanning out ahead and along the flanks.
Half a day later, they reached a prearranged campsite. After resting there overnight, they resumed their journey the following morning.
However, because the loads varied wildly in weight, the column naturally stretched out. They were forced to halt periodically to regroup, which kept their pace frustratingly slow.
Bringing up the rear, two team members noticed that the legs of the pack horse carrying the idol were trembling. This was a horse outfitted with institute implants, fully capable of hauling over a ton of cargo across rugged mountains, yet now it struggled with every step.
One man cursed under his breath. "I swear this damn thing weighs too much. Can't we take it apart and pack it separately?"
His companion shot him a glance. "No chance. Professor said if we break it up, it won't sell."
The first man cursed again.
No sooner had the oath left his lips than a fletched arrow thudded into a tree trunk not far from the path.
The men reacted with lightning speed, rolling off their saddles and drawing their handguns from behind cover. Up ahead, the other members dismounted one after another.
Their sharp vision caught glimpses of several leather-clad figures darting through the foliage.
"First People?"
One of the men sneered and raised his weapon, firing several rounds deep into the woods.
He could tell plainly that these attackers were trying to block their advance, but their aggression lacked bite. Likely intimidated by firearms, their hesitation only invited contempt from the expedition crew.
Someone called out, "Try to take them alive!"
A collective understanding passed through the ranks. None of these men were strangers to shady dealings; most had worked as human traffickers in the past.
The presence of First People meant a village was nearby. Villages meant people, and people meant money—especially since trading in First People was entirely legal in the Federation.
Few First People remained within Federation territory these days. Those who survived were either tough nuts to crack or lived secluded in desolate, untrodden wilderness. It seemed their luck was running remarkably high today to have stumbled across a few.
The First People possessed formidable archery skills and held the advantage of the forest canopy. Even against firearms, they were capable of staging an effective harassment. However, several members of the expedition were seasoned fighters. The moment their magazines were spent, they tossed their guns aside, ripped off their hats, and charged into the brush.
In just a matter of minutes, five First People were dragged out in bindings. Another four had been wounded and were put down on the spot, as the team had no use for dead weight.
The captives were tied in a line and tethered behind the horse train. Their eyes burned with raw hatred as they glared at the expedition members. Yet the moment their gaze fell upon the idol, sheer terror twisted their features. Trembling uncontrollably, they began to scream and wail.
"Koimoi!"
"Koimoi!"
The man in the wide-brimmed hat frowned. "What the hell are they screeching about?"
Beside him, Professor Nowitzki pondered for a moment. "I believe I've heard that name before... Isn't it some local devil from this region?"
The man in the hat felt no sense of dread. Given what the expedition team had done over the years, he figured they were hardly better than devils themselves.
"Shut them up."
At that very moment, unnoticed by the crew, the idol's eyes twitched just as the First People cried out the name "Koimoi." Its fingers popped with a sharp creak, and the figure actually sat upright atop the pack horse.
Standing two meters tall, the idol's sudden movement immediately drew every eye in the column. The men froze in place.
Meanwhile, the First People dropped flat against the earth, shivering so violently they dared not lift their heads.
A terrified shout tore through the air, followed by a sudden frenzy of gunfire. Roars and shrieks tangled together as the horses panicked and reared in terror. The dull thuds of crushing impacts, the snapping of bones, and the sickening tearing of flesh dissolved into a chaotic din.
Just two minutes later, absolute silence fell over the glade.
The First People remained pressed against the dirt, too frightened to twitch. Then they heard heavy footsteps plod past them and fade into the distance. Shivering from head to foot, none dared look up.
Only when the footsteps had receded entirely did they raise their heads. Before them lay a field of butchered, mangled bodies and horses. Gore and mud were mashed across the earth, and the air was thick with the stench of blood.
Their breathing turned ragged and heavy. Exchanging frantic glances, they struggled free of their ropes and sprinted madly into the dense forest. They had to warn their clan: the legendary demon god Koimoi had returned to life.
***
Meanwhile, inside the Wangdong Stone, Chen Chuan clearly sensed the transformation occurring within his seed. He felt a flicker of surprise. While the very first seed had acted according to his design, this one had strayed onto a completely different path.
It seemed to have answered an invitation from some lingering nature spirit, seizing the opportunity to devour the spirit's remnants and fuse into a single entity.
That a seed could undergo such a metamorphosis was something not even the Compendium had mentioned.
Yet upon further reflection, the Compendium merely outlined a viable hypothesis; there had been no time to test every detail, so it was only natural that many unforeseen variations remained unaccounted for.
He had no idea what use such a seed might serve if it continued to develop along this trajectory, but a change was a change. For now, he would leave it be and observe.
After confirming that the seed's spiritual power remained anchored to his own will, he set the matter aside for the moment and redirected his focus back to the ancient murals before him.
Chapter 1221