Chapter 333: The Princess Consort

Yun Yao and Xu Qian exchanged glances—this woman seemed a bit odd.

Despite being saved by the group, she showed no gratitude at all.

“Let’s divide the ‘Dao,'” Yan Zhichun suggested. “One man left, leaving forty-eight in total. Each of us can take twelve.”

“Fine, let’s split them,” Xu Qian agreed. “It’s a bit risky, but the rewards are decent.”

“You two go ahead,” Chen Junan said. “Big star, hold onto my share for now.”

With that, he dragged his nearly broken body toward the other side of the room.

“Where are you going?” Yun Yao snapped. “Don’t you see the state you’re in?”

“This young master can’t collapse here yet…” Chen Junan murmured weakly. “I still have to save someone…”

“Save someone…?” Yun Yao didn’t understand. The only survivors left were them—who else needed saving?

After three steps, Chen Junan bent over to catch his breath. He felt like he should just drop dead already—this suffering was unbearable.

But he couldn’t leave this building. There were people in danger here.

“I can barely stand…” Chen Junan turned back to Yun Yao and Xu Qian. “Ladies, Di She kidnapped women and children and locked them up here. Since we killed him, we should free them.”

“Is that necessary?” Yun Yao frowned. “If they die, they’ll just respawn. You know that better than I do.”

“But that’s not right. We’re people from the real world, not ghosts haunting the ‘Land of the End.'” Chen Junan sighed. “If you won’t save them, I will…”

Yun Yao could only shake her head helplessly. After this encounter, she had a good grasp of Chen Junan’s personality—strong in some ways, but with glaring weaknesses.

She exchanged a glance with Xu Qian, and the two began searching the area for other rooms.

Meanwhile, Yan Zhichun pocketed her share of “Dao,” watching the others with mild interest.

Before long, Xu Qian found a hidden trapdoor beneath the central podium.

“Here!” she called out. Yun Yao and Chen Junan hurried over.

As the three approached, an eerie stench wafted up from the trapdoor.

“Is… anyone down there?” Yun Yao asked incredulously. The smell was unmistakably not from the living.

Chen Junan examined the heavy iron lock on the trapdoor. He tugged at it weakly—his strength was spent. “Can you open this for me…?”

Xu Qian immediately turned and headed for Di She’s corpse. She sifted through the scattered limbs until she found a shattered key.

The key had been sliced apart along with the body, rendering it useless.

“No need for that,” Yun Yao said, reaching out. “This lock looks ancient—most of its parts are probably rusted to hell.”

She gripped the lock, and instantly, rust spread across its surface. With a sharp tug, it crumbled apart like brittle charcoal.

“Nice trick…” Chen Junan managed a weak smile before grabbing the trapdoor and lifting it open.

A wave of unbearable stench assaulted them. Yun Yao covered her nose, gagging, while even Chen Junan grimaced.

How could this be the smell of living people?

It was only the second day—who had Di She captured, and what had he done to them?

“I’ll check it out.” Chen Junan pulled Yun Yao back and descended the stairs. His whole body trembled, as if some terrible memory had resurfaced. “No idea what’s down there. Stay put.”

Yun Yao and Xu Qian exchanged looks. Chen Junan could barely stand—why was he playing the hero?

“I’ll go too,” Xu Qian said. “If it’s about saving people, I should help…”

Hearing Chen Junan’s footsteps fade into the darkness, Xu Qian slowly followed. After a brief hesitation, Yun Yao trailed behind.

Yan Zhichun lingered by the trapdoor, neither descending nor moving, lost in thought.

The stairs stretched deep—far beyond the depth of a normal basement, closer to a second underground level.

In the pitch blackness, the three descended, the suffocating stench growing stronger with each step.

They moved slowly, and after about a minute, a faint light appeared below.

The basement had some form of illumination.

Chen Junan was the first to reach the hidden chamber. He scanned the room—and froze.

Darkness. Dampness. Stench. Blood. Madness.

This was hell.

Dozens of women stood against the walls, naked, necks chained, their hollow eyes staring blankly ahead. It was impossible to tell if they were alive.

Every one of them was emaciated, ribs protruding from their withered bodies.

“What the hell…?”

Chen Junan forced himself forward, the stench burning his nostrils. Some of the girls were already dead, their corpses still suspended by the chains, hanging like mops. Rotting flesh sloughed off their bones, crawling with maggots.

“Di She… you bastard…” Chen Junan’s pain faded beneath a surge of fury. His fists clenched. “What the hell were you doing…? Did you forget you were once human?”

Yun Yao and Xu Qian arrived and immediately froze in horror, unable to move.

The floor was littered with excrement and bones. And the women… they weren’t right. Were they… *natives*?

Chen Junan took slow, deliberate steps forward. The girls on either side stood like statues, expressionless.

The rectangular room stretched about ten meters, but in the dim light, something loomed at the far end.

“Chen… Chen Junan…” Yun Yao whispered. “Be careful…”

He didn’t seem to hear her, trudging forward with heavy steps.

Finally, he stopped at the opposite wall.

Yun Yao and Xu Qian watched his silhouette from afar, unsure what he was seeing. They cautiously followed.

Ten steps later, a massive throne came into view. It was carved from stone but draped in a rotting, blackened human hide. The stench radiating from it was overwhelming, making it impossible to approach.

A well-proportioned girl sat on the ground beside the throne, as if waiting for someone.

Yun Yao’s pupils contracted. She stepped closer to examine the girl.

Unlike the others, she wasn’t emaciated—likely a recent “native.” But her body was covered in wounds, her pupils unfocused.

A crude wire crown sat atop her tangled hair. Carved into her chest, in bloody letters, were four words:

**”MY QUEEN.”**

The wounds were fresh, the jagged letters barely scabbed over, already swelling with infection.

Before Yun Yao could speak, the girl raised her head and grinned, revealing bloodstained teeth—only a few remained.

“Has… my master returned…?”

The sight sent chills down Yun Yao and Chen Junan’s spines. In unison, they gasped:

“Xiao Ran…?”