Chapter 135: Awakening
The green-armored skeleton paused, then burst into laughter. "Ha! Excellent. So they've multiplied. Even better. We'll kill every last human who sets foot here. Understand?"
The Bloodshadow Lizard stared blankly. It didn't understand.
The skeleton raised its bone spear and conjured a human-shaped illusion with its spiritual power. "Go. Find every human like this. Kill them. Bring me their blood."
The lizard's crimson tongue flickered wildly. It turned and disappeared into the grass. Dozens more followed, their pounding feet shaking the ground. In moments, they were gone.
"The sealed forbidden ground has opened again. There must be powerful human cultivators waiting outside. But this place was meant to trap the Netherworld Ghost Clan. Maybe fate has decided we shouldn't die out after all." The skeleton muttered to itself. "My Nine Cycles Soul Art is in its final stage. My power has degraded severely—barely late-stage Ghost Soldier now. Those lizards might not be enough. I need a better plan."
The green-armored skeleton muttered to itself for a long time. Then it raised its bone spear and slashed the empty air. The darkness in the distance split like a sheet of black paper, revealing a white light. Within that light, a massive altar rose slowly from the ground. The skeleton paused, considering. Then it glided over to a small hill about three meters high. Its bone spear blurred—stone chips flew in all directions.
With a wave of its hand, a cold wind swept away the dust, revealing a stone tablet carved with the words: "Blood Soul Teleportation Array."
The green-armored skeleton carved a few lines of small characters beside them, studied its work, and nodded. Satisfied, it drove its bone spear into the ground and pried the tablet loose. The stone slab, weighing several hundred pounds, rose into the air. The skeleton caught it, dragged it to the altar, and rammed it into the earth.
It laughed, spun, and vanished in a puff of black smoke.
When Leo regained consciousness, his body ached in several places. The air was thick and stale—every breath sent dust and grit deep into his lungs. Is this death? It didn't feel like it. Death shouldn't hurt. If the body was gone, there'd be no pain. He opened his eyes. Darkness. A few faint beams of light filtered down through cracks in the rock above—barely enough to see. He reached for his elixir field. His spiritual power was weak, nowhere near its peak, but it was there. Relief washed over him.
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He activated Mystical Sight. Rubble everywhere. Scattered rocks of all sizes. Vera and Quincy lay less than two feet away. Vera looked better than Quincy—Quincy's legs were pinned under stone.
A massive boulder had wedged itself above the three of them, creating a small pocket of space. Without it, they would have been crushed into pulp.
Leo tried to piece together his memory. He still had mid-grade spirit stones. He had used his Star Lamp—a defensive artifact—and held out for a long time. Then this boulder—thousands upon thousands of pounds of solid rock—had fallen like a mountain, shattering his weakened Star Lamp barrier. He had blacked out on the spot.
Funny. The very stone that knocked him unconscious had ended up saving them all.
He checked his own injuries. Two broken ribs. Nothing serious for a cultivator.
He started to move the stone, then stopped. The space was cramped and stuffy, but it was shelter. His spiritual power was barely a tenth of what it should be. Out there, he'd be vulnerable. Better to wait until he had recovered.
Leo made up his mind—but hesitated. He still couldn't bring himself to use the Cold Marrow Dew—it was too precious to waste on recovery. Mid-grade spirit stones would have to do. He popped a healing pill, then pulled out two spirit stones, one in each hand. The double surge of spiritual energy hit him like a tide—his power flooded back fast.
A soft groan. Vera and Quincy stirred at the same time, their eyes fluttering open. Fear washed over them as the memories came rushing back—Monty's betrayal, the collapsing cave, the crushing darkness. Their hearts pounded. Then they saw Leo meditating just a few feet away. Relief flooded through them. Quincy whimpered. Her legs were crushed beneath the rock. The spoiled princess had never suffered anything like this in her life.
"Leo! You've been awake this whole time? Why didn't you get me out first?" Quincy's voice was sharp, her face flushed with anger.
"Keep your voice down, or you'll bring every danger in this place down on us." Leo's voice was low, cold.
"You—!" Quincy's face flushed crimson. No one had ever spoken to her like that. Between Monty's betrayal and now this—the pain, the humiliation—her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Leo frowned. He had never liked Quincy—the spoiled heiress act had always rubbed him the wrong way. Back when there were others around, as long as she didn't get in his way, he treated her with courtesy. But now? His safety was on the line. He wasn't about to play nice. Sure, her face was pretty—beautiful, even. But not enough to cloud his judgment. Besides, with all the dust and grime, neither she nor Vera was much to look at right now.
"Senior Brother Leo..." Vera hesitated, then changed how she addressed him. The cultivation world respected strength. Solon and Angus, who knew hardship, had changed how they addressed him quickly. Vera, despite being different from other core disciples, still had her pride. But now, even she was convinced.
"Senior... Senior Brother Leo, I don't have much spiritual power left in my elixir field. Could you help get Senior Sister Quincy out? The sooner she heals, the sooner the three of us can look out for each other."
His spiritual power was already seventy or eighty percent restored. Seeing Quincy on the verge of tears, Leo sighed inwardly. He couldn't just leave her pinned under the rock like that. He nodded, took out the Black Flood Dragon Shears, and hunched over in the cramped space, carving a large hole through the boulder crushing Quincy's legs. Quincy's luck was neither good nor bad—her legs weren't crushed to pulp, just broken. Two smaller stones had wedged themselves under the boulder, taking some of the weight. Otherwise, Quincy's legs wouldn't have been just broken—they would have been crushed beyond repair.