Chapter 220.1: Good Night, Spring City Part 1

There was a loud splat, then came a deafening boom. Blood and pulped flesh sprayed through the gaps between the giant fingers, shooting dozens of meters into the air.

A choked, despairing voice emerged from the mangled remains. “There’s... there’s been a mistake... You’ve got... the wrong person... It wasn’t me... It was... it was...”

Boom!

The giant hand came crashing down again and again and again, showing the priest not the slightest mercy

A mistake? What mistake? How could I possibly have gotten it wrong?! You’re precisely the bastard I’m here to crush!

The thunderous slams continued alongside the merciless beating. They didn’t stop until the priest’s very last remnant spirit had been obliterated into nothingness, leaving not even a trace behind. Only then did the bloodstained giant hand reluctantly dissipate.

The bone wheel gave a dismissive flick, spitting a lump of corrupted spirit matter onto the priest’s remains like a glob of thick phlegm.

So you’re the bastard behind the Heretic Cult?

The evil eye swept across the area, glancing at the crowd that had retreated as far away as they could. It almost sounded as though It snorted coldly as the rift opened once more.

Without the slightest reluctance, the Wheel-Turning Sacred King turned around, completely ignoring the calls and attempts at communication from the other Upper Abominations. Even as It left, Its anger had not subsided. The bone wheel swung down through the air like an axe.

It was as though a colossal foot had kicked Spring City. The earth shook violently, and amidst the overwhelming tremors, cracks spread across the pillars formed by the other Upper Abominations.

What a fucking pain in the ass! Heretic Cult, you’d better pray I never run into you beneath the vortex again!

With that, the Wheel-Turning Sacred King finally stormed off. All that remained was a sacrificial ground reduced to utter ruin as the earth quaked relentlessly.

Everyone stared at each other, not daring to utter a single word..

“What just happened?” Ji Jue eventually asked, looking utterly bewildered. The moment that guy had glanced at him, every hair on his body had stood on end, and he’d been ready to turn around and run.

“I... I’ve got no clue.” Tom scratched his head, still feeling as though he were dreaming. “It looked like after the Abomination got summoned, it beat the crap out of the priest, stomped on Spring City a couple more times for good measure, and then... left?”

It was so absurd that it defied all logic. Sure, infighting was a classic villain trope, but they really didn’t have to start performing it right in front of their enemies.

Or had that Wheel-Turning-whatever been so badly beaten by mercury last time that It had developed PTSD from Pacifier? Was It now planning to follow Tang Qian’s example and switch sides?

Tong Shan was the first to regain his composure. “Everyone, clean up the scene and prepare to withdraw.”

The emergence and departure of an Upper Abomination had caused far too great a disturbance for the Heretic Cult to ignore. The shockwaves of the incident were still spreading, and maintaining order in Spring City was the immediate priority. But once the chaos subsided, someone would inevitably start digging for the truth. If they remained there any longer, they would merely be waiting for the enemy to come and pick them off.

Xu Guan immediately sprang into action, hauling out several large sacks and handing them around. Everyone reached inside and grabbed handful after handful of ashes made from burned record books, scattering them throughout the area.

By flooding the site with an enormous number of recorded phenomena, they could obscure everything that had happened here. It was like injecting a document with massive amounts of corrupted data. Even if investigators were brought in to comb through the scene, by the time they uncovered any trace the group had left behind, it would be far too late.

Ji Liu and Ji Xue went around splashing gasoline and fuel everywhere. Soon, flames spread across the site.

As they worked, everyone couldn’t help but sigh. They had only been in Spring City for a few days, yet they were already getting almost as good as the Heretic Cult at destroying evidence.

Ji Jue had already stripped the central control core of its spirit intelligence and sealed it inside mercury using Solid Alchemy. A central control spirit intelligence this advanced was perfect for controlling large-scale machinery and complex systems, and it would also serve as an excellent reference when he built his own workshop in the future.

Explosives had been planted throughout the area as well. All it would take was the push of a button to give any search team that came knocking a very unpleasant surprise.

Before leaving, Ji Jue didn’t forget to sweep his hand across the massive, intricate altar in the underground vault. An altar and ritual capable of supporting the descent of an Upper Abomination wasn’t something that could be created by simply drawing a circle on the ground. It required the right location, resources, timing, and skilled craftsmen.

Now that he was about to erase it, Ji Jue would gladly give the Heretic Cult a thumbs-up and admit they were impressive if they somehow managed to summon another Upper Abomination anytime soon.

Something this huge has to give me plenty of good stuff, right?

Rubbing his hands together eagerly, Ji Jue pressed both palms onto the altar. “Dissociation Technique!”

Dazzling light burst across the altar riddled with cracks from the battle; it was on the verge of collapse, and Ji Jue would only break it more.

The smile on his face vanished. The altar appeared plain and seamlessly integrated, but once the Dissociation Technique took effect, Ji Jue discovered that it was built like an onion. Beneath the first layer lay another, and beneath that, endless more.

All the layers of spirit circuits were interlocked and superimposed upon one another, forming a colossal structure far beyond anything Ji Jue had imagined. It was as though he had accidentally flipped a switch and illuminated an entire galaxy.

Even more terrifying was the fact that a creation of such unimaginable scale had been forged in a single piece. Its internal structure was utterly seamless. Had the altar not already been pushed to the brink of collapse by the damage it had suffered, Ji Jue would have never been able to make so much as a dent in it. It would have been completely beyond his abilities.

Now, as the altar crumbled, an unprecedented amount of visions unfolded before his eyes.

Vast quantities of materials were smelted and fused together inside a furnace, producing hundreds upon hundreds of individual fragments. Those fragments then converged and assembled themselves until, with a casual sweep of a thin, withered finger, countless streams of corrupted spirit matter flowed together. In a single stroke, they formed an intricate structure so flawless that it was as though it was born by nature itself.

It was magnificent, yet its creation ‌appeared utterly effortless, almost as though its creator couldn’t even be bothered to devote any real effort to it, so they casually threw everything together as an afterthought. Yet even that casual effort had reached heights far beyond ordinary comprehension.

Aside from the few details and theories that overlapped with Ji Jue’s studies, he could not understand any of it. It felt as though he had been reduced to nothing more than an ant or a speck of dust. Before him rose a towering mountain whose summit lay forever beyond sight, making everything else seem incomparably insignificant.

Without realizing it, Ji Jue began to tremble, but the images carried within those countless fragments did not stop, as if some hidden passage buried beneath the altar had been activated. Through that concealed connection, scenes from a very distant place unfolded before his eyes.

Deep beneath Spring City lay a realm of darkness. There, a boundary membrane resembling a Time Ruin was bound within Spring City by invisible chains, and within that boundary membrane stood a colossal ruin. No one could tell how many years had passed since its creation, yet thick smoke still billowed endlessly into the sky, while flames continued to engulf the vast ruins.

There was a colossal, broken wreck, hundreds upon thousands of meters long, like a beached giant whale resting against the ruins. Decay had stripped away its outer layers, exposing a skeleton of steel and tangled cables beneath.

Among countless shattered creations, there was a steel heart still struggling to beat under the erosion of corruption. It was so frail that it seemed on the verge of collapse, yet it continued to keep everything running. Vast amounts of spirit matter flowed in and out of it, and even the slightest leak was enough to stir towering waves in the darkness. Each violent impact nearly tore the ruins free from Spring City, but the faintly visible chains held them fast and denied them escape.

It was an engine.