Chapter 1234: Grubs in Space
An exhausted group rushed through the crumbling spatial channel, ignoring the lacerations opening up across their body. Even Zac could feel the sting from the rotten viscera and swirls of resentment digging into the wounds, not to mention the others. The gate collapsed only moments after they emerged.
They were ready this time after a painful lesson from a few excursions. A standby crew erected a sturdy barrier that redirected the final burst of matter and energy that squeezed out of the collapsing world. Zac cleansed his body of scum before jumping into the pod.
Another blockade barring their path was knocked down through effort and teamwork. It did little to raise morale in the shuttle as they flew toward the approaching Yphelion. Zac wanted to raise their spirits, but what could he say? The only things they had to show for risking their lives were a few tainted relics and a handful of dubious D-grade plants that reeked of evil and sets of foreign patterns copied from a wall.
The anomaly was another trove, a standard fragment of an Inner World filled with putrid blood and zombies. They were likely descendants or servants of the ancient cultivator who fell in battle. Their end was likely even worse, seeing the world collapse around them as hostile Dao flooded their home. The dense resentment in the Imperial Graveyard prevented any normal Revenants from awakening, instead turning them into mindless monstrosities filled with killing intent.
"Good job. Get some rest," Zac said before lumbering back toward his quarters.
Catheya had already left, having her own matters to deal with. Zac glanced at the table where they'd had coffee just hours ago, wondering how many such chances they'd get over the coming weeks. Shaking his head, he entered the cultivation chamber to begin another round of practice. Rest was important, but so was diligence.
Days passed one after another, and the pressure on Yphelion and its crew never relented. It only mounted, making Zac long for the calm days at the graveyard's edge by the time another ten days had passed. There was simply no rest to be had as the storms grew increasingly volatile. The ones having the worst of it were Jaol and Mark Marshall, who were responsible for navigating the ship through the troubled waters.
Ogras and Emily both had experience in piloting Cosmic Vessels through turbulent regions, but they were struggling to fill Mark's shoes during his short bouts of fitful rest. The Yphelion's journey seemed stable to the passengers, barring the constant shakes. It was a false safety. The Yphelion was constantly swirling back and forth, making turns so sudden and sharp the centrifugal forces would knock out half the crew if not for the Inertia Arrays.
It was clear that the Beacon was leading them toward one of the most dangerous regions of the graveyard, and their situation was starting to remind Zac of how he tried to avoid the hundred-odd mental tendrils in the Pilgrimage of Faith. Sharp winds could appear out of nowhere, and even the Yphelion's upgraded shield would have trouble blocking many of them.