Chapter 258: The Demolition of the Tower

A moment later, Qian Ye emerged from the barracks, respectfully bowing to the room before leaving with a package in hand.

Inside the barracks, the Marquis Artisan leaned leisurely against a long chair, his back to the window, eyes closed in meditation. Even a Duke would not dare to disturb him under normal circumstances. As one of the key craftsmen in constructing the great tower, the Marquis held a value in the eyes of the Demon Emperor and the Lord of Mesarre that surpassed that of an ordinary Duke.

However, upon closer inspection, it was evident that the Marquis had not moved, his body devoid of life.

Qian Ye, recognizing the critical role such unique individuals played among the demonkind, could not allow him to remain alive.

Still disguised as a Count, Qian Ye arrived at the base of the tower. Most of the artisans on the tower had completed their work and left, leaving only two Counts to guard the entrance.

In this inner world, few natives were interested in such a towering structure. Moreover, traces of Palocias’ presence permeated the area. The profound aura of a Grand Duke was enough to deter even the strongest Empire warriors, let alone the natives, who naturally avoided it whenever possible.

Thus, the tower’s security was lax, guarded only by two suffering Counts after work hours.

One of the guarding Counts barely glanced at Qian Ye, saying, “Work is over for the day.”

Qian Ye raised the toolbox in his hand, replying, “These are the tools the Master will need tomorrow. I’ve been sent to place them on the workstation on the ninth floor.”

Recognizing the insignia on the toolbox and confirming the correct workstation, the guarding Count lazily waved him through without further questions.

In truth, Qian Ye had already extracted all the necessary information from the Marquis. No matter what the guarding Count asked, he could answer. At worst, he would simply annihilate them and force his way up the tower.

The framework of the tower was built using the trunks of unique trees from the inner world, connected with Night Eternal’s alloy fasteners. The outer walls were crafted from rocks also sourced from the inner world. The lower floors were spacious, filled haphazardly with half-processed materials. From the fifth floor upwards, however, the exterior featured more metal plates.

These metal plates, made of a material Qian Ye had never seen before, contained traces of active primal force, clearly also sourced from the inner world.

The Night Eternal Parliament indeed had a wealth of talent. In just a few days in the inner world, they had already produced basic metal armor plates. Given enough time, they might recreate the Night Eternal civilization here.

Starting from the eighth floor, the space was divided into various chambers, each equipped with different instruments and devices, all of which looked advanced and precise. However, their purpose was a mystery to Qian Ye.

But it didn’t matter if he couldn’t understand them; he could still destroy them.

Opening the toolbox, Qian Ye revealed its contents—nothing but explosives and grenades.

Using locally-sourced materials and additional items from Andua’s space, Qian Ye quickly assembled several explosive devices, placing one in each chamber. For larger chambers, he added an extra primal force grenade to the device.

In no time, the eighth floor was set. Qian Ye ascended to the ninth.

The ninth floor was mostly occupied by a large hall, filled with an array of control devices that Qian Ye could not comprehend. The control console had more than a dozen seats, and a central command station was located at the back, complete with hundreds of buttons and switches of varying sizes.

Following his usual routine, Qian Ye placed explosive devices at both ends of the long control console. Then, he approached the central command station, which belonged to Palocias. He piled ten primal force grenades on it, ensuring a thorough explosion.

The tenth floor was where the primal force signals were received and analyzed, while the eleventh floor housed the main antenna and several smaller ones.

Running out of explosives, Qian Ye drew his Verdant Jade Blood Sword and cut the antennae into pieces. With a flash, he vanished into the distant horizon.

Many Night Eternal strongmen still remained in the camp, and Qian Ye’s actions were soon detected. However, the Dukes, with peculiar expressions, watched Qian Ye leave without pursuing him.

Only a Duke would be foolhardy enough to chase after Qian Ye.

In that moment of hesitation, a burst of flame suddenly erupted from the middle of the tower, followed by a series of explosions. The tower was instantly riddled with holes. The central section, which stored energy crystals, was completely ignited, causing a series of earth-shattering explosions that obliterated the tower’s structure. The upper half crumbled, crashing heavily to the ground.

In an instant, the tower site was engulfed in a blaze, illuminating the entire camp. The dust kicked up by the collapsing tower enveloped everyone, and the continuous minor explosions resonated like heavy hammers striking everyone’s hearts.

The faces of all the Night Eternal strongmen turned grim. They had risked their lives to enter the inner world and toil over the construction of the tower, only to see it destroyed in an instant?

Several critical devices within the tower could only be produced in the Night Eternal realm, and two of them were personally crafted by Pradettic Prolitia. The destruction of this tower would significantly delay the plans of the Night Eternal Parliament.

The Dukes exchanged glances, wondering where Palocias was at this crucial moment.

Although Qian Ye was not entirely familiar with the tower, the central command station capable of handling a Grand Duke’s power was no easy find, its materials being extremely limited. The Night Eternal Parliament, no matter how wealthy, could not afford backups for every Grand Duke.

After his successful sabotage, Qian Ye swiftly retreated, wary of any hidden countermeasures from the dark races. As he flew away from the tower, he felt a sharp gaze on him, akin to a needle prick. Clearly, there was a strong, hidden figure in the camp, skilled in concealment and assassination, posing a lethal threat to Qian Ye.

This was reasonable.

Even Palocias, who had been severely injured by Qian Ye, was a formidable opponent. If the hidden figure was a demon, it would be manageable. Only a Grand Duke-level defensive domain would pose a challenge to Qian Ye; anything below could be disregarded.

The demons, inherently fragile, would die if ambushed by Qian Ye.

Planning to retreat first and then return to strike, Qian Ye executed a series of void blinks, escaping hundreds of kilometers in moments. The faint sense of danger that had lingered around him finally dissipated.

Relieved, Qian Ye slowed down. He was about to find an unusual tree to rest when he heard faint footsteps in the distance. These were not the steps of Night Eternal strongmen, but those of Atuaran warriors.

Soon, several Atuaran warriors appeared from the forest. Upon seeing Qian Ye, they bowed respectfully, touching their chests, and said, “Honored brother from the other world, our holy spirit wishes to meet you.”

“Holy spirit?” Qian Ye’s brow furrowed.

“The holy spirit resides in the heavens, guiding our path and foretelling this crisis. Now, the holy spirit has issued a decree, summoning you to an audience.”

Qian Ye had never heard Su Shi mention a holy spirit, but given that the Atuarans had a sacred mountain and a guardian clan, another holy spirit wasn’t surprising.

Noticing the slight difference in attire between these Atuaran warriors and Su Shi, Qian Ye asked, “Which tribe do you belong to?”

“We are of the Spurk clan, honored brother from the other world.”

“How did you find me?”

“All living beings are under the gaze of the Mother Tree. It was the Mother Tree that told us you were here.”

Nodding, Qian Ye said, “Very well, I will accompany you.”

The Spurk Atuaran warriors moved swiftly, leading Qian Ye through the mountains and valleys. After a day and a night, a mountain peak came into view.

On the summit, several domed houses encircled a central large house. The structures were made of wood and earth, supported by wooden pillars and walled with a mixture of mud and stone. The roofs were crafted from the giant leaves of the abundant unusual trees, providing excellent roofing material. A few neatly trimmed leaves could be woven into a single roof.

Though simple, this small settlement housed several dozen Atuarans, mostly adult males, a few elders, and women. It seemed to be built to protect something, and the stone-carved totems at the village entrance indicated that all were members of the Spurk tribe.

Despite the long journey, they had only traveled two days’ worth of distance, theoretically still within the territory of the guardian clan, the Monro.

The Atuaran warriors explained along the way. The Atuaran lands were vast and sparsely populated, with territories so large that they lost meaning. For convenience, each tribe had built small settlements near the sacred mountain, and the Monro tribe allowed this.

These settlements, though small, contained the most important holy altar for the tribes. Through the altar, Atuaran warriors could communicate with the holy spirits and receive guidance.

There was more than one holy spirit, another vital piece of information Qian Ye gleaned.

Following three Spurk warriors, Qian Ye entered the central house.

The so-called holy altar was a smooth, polished stone, its material catching Qian Ye’s attention. The stone was semi-transparent, neither metal nor jade, and gave him a very unstable feeling, as if it could tear through the void and vanish at any moment.

An elder Atuaran awaited beside the altar. Bowing deeply to Qian Ye, he said, “We thank you, honored brother from the other world. You helped us drive away the Black Devils of Destruction and preserved our shared sacred mountain.”

“It was my duty,” Qian Ye replied, surprised at the speed of the Atuarans’ message.

“The holy spirit wishes to meet you.”

“What should I do?”

“Place your hands on the altar, drink the sacrificial wine, and open your heart, focusing on listening. The holy spirit will touch your soul, allowing you to hear its voice.”

It was a primitive process, but considering the Atuaran level of civilization, it was understandable.

A young Atuaran woman brought a bowl of crimson sacrificial wine. Qian Ye sniffed it, confirming it was safe, and drank it. Even if the Atuarans intended to poison him, there were few substances in the world that could harm a body transformed by chaotic primal force.

As the wine settled in his stomach, Qian Ye suddenly exclaimed, feeling a long-forgotten dizziness. His mind and consciousness seemed to float out of his body, like a wisp of smoke, ascending endlessly.

This was beyond his expectations. If he continued to ascend without end and could not return to his body, wouldn’t that mean he was dead?