Chapter 88 Level 5

It was late at night.

Feng Yin placed a SIM-less phone on his bedside table, completely disconnecting it from any network. He then turned on the video recording function and aimed the camera at his bed. Lying down, he closed his eyes and prepared to sleep.

Five days had passed since he cleared Level 4. If nothing went wrong, he would face Level 5 tonight.

Over the past few days, as his ID card was expedited and issued, Xiao Yu took the opportunity to buy him the latest smartphone while showing him around town. So tonight, he could finally record himself falling asleep and entering the game to see exactly what happened in reality.

Before drifting off, his mind quietly recounted the events of the past few days. First, under his master’s instructions, he challenged Chu Ming, the genius from the Battle Flower Club. In the days that followed, he spent his daytimes engaging in extensive sparring sessions with Fierce-level Swordsmen and Blade Masters from various sects, all arranged by Xiao Yu. Through this, he accumulated a wealth of combat experience.

Indeed, Xiao Yu had gone above and beyond Xie Jingyuan’s initial arrangements. She didn’t limit his opponents to the Flower of Battle sect. Instead, she directly hired various Fierce-level Powerhouses to serve as Feng Yin’s sparring partners. After all, while it was difficult to hire an Instant-level expert for practice, finding Fierce-level masters was quite easy as long as one was willing to pay.

Then, over the last two nights, he made two trips deep into the suburban mountains, hunting wild boars to replenish the Armor’s Durability. However, whenever Feng Yin thought of the Werewolf he encountered at the very end of last night, his heart grew heavy.

Since there was a Werewolf on that specific mountain peak, he could simply choose not to go there again. But could terrifying entities be lurking deep within other mountains and forests as well? Just how many of those absolutely unnatural lifeforms were out there in the wild?

Amidst these thoughts, Feng Yin unknowingly drifted into a deep sleep. On the back of his right hand, the blood-red Double-headed Trident symbol slowly lit up, just as it had before.

Falling, sinking—

Feng Yin’s vision suddenly cleared, and familiar scenery appeared before his eyes.

A voice rang out from behind him. “A brief rest is enough. The secret passage in the plaza’s fountain is still waiting for us to explore!”

Feng Yin skillfully stood up, turned around, and walked over to the White Crow.

The White Crow tilted its head. “Shall we go?”

———————

Proceed to the next location? [Yes/No]

———————

[Yes]

[Proceeding to destination: Monastery – Underground Forbidden Room]

The mist dissipated.

The world in Feng Yin’s vision shifted, transforming into a damp, profound corridor. Behind him was a narrow staircase leading upward.

A second later, the chatty White Crow flew down the stairwell and landed lightly on his shoulder. It recited a long passage as if singing a poem:

“The enigmatic Monastery is corrupted by the Life Wedge. The guards in the outer plaza transformed into filthy monsters, only to be swept away and annihilated by the invincible Armor.

“The sturdy courtyard gates are locked tight in a vain attempt to block the Armor’s advance, yet an underground passage has emerged within the fountain. Where does this secret tunnel lead, and will it allow the Armor to successfully enter the Monastery?”

Feng Yin listened quietly as the White Crow finished speaking. Several messages condensed from the mist appeared before his eyes.

[Destination reached. Mission begins.]

[Objective: Eliminate the Filthy Chief Judge and the Filthy Blood Owl Hunter. Extract the Life Wedge.]

The information faded away. Fortunately, having repeatedly cleared the game’s early levels numerous times, he remembered them quite vividly. With just a little recollection, Feng Yin figured out the contents of this stage.

The regular mobs posed little threat, but the end of the level featured the game’s very first continuous boss battle. This meant that defeating the first boss wouldn’t end the level; he would have to face a second opponent immediately after…

“Let’s go, let’s go! You’re too slow!”

While he was thinking, the White Crow had already flapped its wings and flown deeper into the tunnel. Feng Yin quickly followed.

The oil lamps on both sides of the corridor had long since burned out, leaving the entire underground passage pitch black. However, it wasn’t a major issue. Through the Armor’s built-in vision, he could see everything perfectly.

Soon, several emaciated figures dressed in tattered Monk robes appeared in the aisle. They were kneeling on the ground, muttering incessantly.

Feng Yin swiftly drew his Canfeng Sword, spending a few seconds transforming it into its Dragon Slayer Spear form. In the next moment, he strode forward and swung the three-meter-long Dragon Slayer Spear in a wide, circular slash. Within seconds, he cleaved the Monk mobs in half before they could even stand up.

Black blood splattered, and dark energy drifted from the corpses before they turned to ash and dissipated.

[Banished Filthy Monk. Gained 2 units of Spirituality.]

Four consecutive kill notifications flashed, contributing eight points of Spirituality to Feng Yin.

He paused slightly and looked at a small crystal on the ground. Its appearance was identical to a Durability Crystal, but its color was pale blue. Feng Yin immediately walked over and picked it up.

A message surfaced:

[Micro-Secret Energy Crystal: Use to recover three points of Secret Energy. Maximum Reserve: three.]

It wasn’t bad at all. If a Durability Crystal was Blood Medicine, this Secret Energy Crystal was essentially a mana potion. Killing magic-type monsters like these Monks had a chance to drop them.

As for why these Filthy Monks were considered magic-type monsters…

Feng Yin looked a short distance ahead, where another Monk was scrambling to its feet after hearing the commotion of his kills. The Monk looked toward the sound, and the moment it spotted Feng Yin, its eyes instantly glowed with a crimson light.

The next moment, as a few simple syllables popped out of its mouth, a fireball made of Blood Flame materialized in front of it.

SWISH!

Without waiting for it to launch the fireball, Feng Yin directly fired a Crossbow Arrow. The Monk was struck as if by a heavy hammer. It flew backward and crashed heavily onto the ground. Deprived of its energy supply, the Blood Flame Fireball floating in the air quickly dissipated.

[Banished Filthy Monk. Gained 2 units of Spirituality.]

Feng Yin nodded in satisfaction. The power of the Simple Arm Crossbow would increase according to the Armor’s Liberation Level. Comparing it to the game, the Blood Volume a single Crossbow Arrow could shave off a monster was nearly seventy percent of a melee attack from the Armor.

If retrieving the Crossbow Arrows wasn’t so troublesome in the early stages, choosing the Continuous Fire Engraving to start would have actually provided a highly advantageous long-range suppression capability.

As for the power of the Monk’s Fireball Technique, he had no desire to test it. After all, it came at the cost of sluggish reaction times and a stiff casting animation. In exchange, the fireball packed formidable power.

If he remembered correctly, taking a hit from this Blood Flame Fireball in the game would strip away at least five points of Durability—an attack comparable to a boss’s.

Feng Yin walked up to retrieve the fired Crossbow Arrow, then continued deeper under the White Crow’s guidance. After dealing with two more squads totaling ten Filthy Monks, he traversed the corridor and arrived at the end of the level.

It was a square prayer room with black blood oozing everywhere. There, a tall, hunched figure wearing a pointed hat and a black robe was kneeling before a Divine Statue.

While praying, he swung a whip woven from black hair, lashing his own back. Black blood dripped incessantly, pooling into the bloodstains Feng Yin had just seen on the ground.

As if aware of Feng Yin’s arrival, the self-mutilator slowly stood up and turned around, revealing his face. On his withered, gaunt visage, his eyelids were pierced and stitched together by several iron skewers.

From behind the skewers, a pair of murky eyes stared blankly at the approaching pitch-black Armor. Reaching back, he pulled out a long branding iron and muttered incessantly:

“Another sinner has arrived…

“The judgment begins.”