# 209
Chapter 209 – Believers
Sweat dripped from Instructor Hong’s cheeks. Just as their silhouettes were about to be swallowed by fire, the flames behind them vanished!
A brief suffocation seized him, but it lasted less than a second before disappearing as if it had never existed. Only the scorching residue in the air proved an inferno had swept the underground.
It was Shen Qingzhu…
Gritting his teeth, Instructor Hong inched upward through the passage. After an eternity, a faint light appeared overhead.
A flashlight beam.
The torchlight converged on him. Figures rappelled down—fellow instructors with ropes at their waists.
Seeing those familiar faces, Instructor Hong finally exhaled. His taut body gave out; his sweat-soaked uniform streamed like a waterfall.
The instructors quickly took the unconscious Baili Pangpang, clipped both men into harnesses, spoke into radios, and began to ascend.
“Instructor Hong, Instructor Hong! Are you all right?” Han Li checked his condition mid-lift, voice frantic.
Barely conscious, Instructor Hong waved a hand. “I’m fine… just exhausted…”
Han Li glanced at the two others; they nodded and continued downward to search for the last man.
“How far to the surface?” Instructor Hong rasped.
“Two hundred meters. Two more and we’re out.” Han Li peered into the abyss. “How deep is this hole?”
“Two kilometers.”
“Two kilometers?!” Han Li’s eyes bulged. “How did you even get up here?!”
Instructor Hong shook his head; he had no strength to speak.
Han Li seemed to grasp something. He stared skyward and fell silent.
Their gear couldn’t reach two kilometers.
He kept that from Instructor Hong.
Soon both men were hauled topside, laid on stretchers, and carried toward the mountain road.
Much later.
Outside Mount Jinnan, Yuan Gang watched Baili Pangpang and Instructor Hong loaded into an ambulance that screamed into the distance.
Lin Qiye’s vehicle had left ten minutes earlier.
“Chief, the rescue team for Shen Qingzhu is back,” Han Li reported. “Our ropes only reached one kilometer. Two instructors risked free-climbing to the bottom, but—”
“But?” Yuan Gang’s brows knitted.
“The original Absolute Earth Domain tunnel has collapsed; everything’s buried. They can’t locate Shen Qingzhu… and life-detection shows zero vital signs underground.”
Han Li inhaled. “Based on Instructor Hong’s account… Shen Qingzhu is confirmed KIA.”
Yuan Gang clenched his fists. He glanced once more at the night-shrouded mountain, then spoke quietly:
“Pull out. Let the clean-up crew handle the rest.”
…
Night receded.
Within the dead Mount Jinnan, a sliver of light pierced the black clouds and touched the barren ridges.
The torrent eased to a drizzle; droplets slid off green leaves onto scorched earth.
Time passed.
Clouds scattered; the sun blazed.
As it sank west, dusk gilded the peaks in pale gold.
Amid the wasteland, a cocoon lying in the dirt trembled—new life stirring within.
From the west, a bewitching figure stepped out of the void: long hair, phoenix eyes, swallow-tail coat—noble and elegant.
One of the Church of the Ancient Gods’ three “gods,” Klein realm—Yiyu.
“The projection’s aura vanished beneath this spot.” Yiyu stared at the soil, gaze boring through layers of earth.
“Its soul was obliterated—strange death. Ever since, my mind…” He frowned, shook his head, said no more.
“What exactly happened he—PATRICK!! Let’s go jellyfishing!!!”
Mid-sentence his face twisted violently; a shrill, warped voice burst from his throat as he flung his arms wide in an exaggerated grin.
Slap!
A crisp self-inflicted slap echoed. Yiyu panted, neck crimson, eyes blazing with rage and bewilderment.
“Damn it! What’s happening to me?!”
He roared, clawing at his skull as if to rip something out.
Minutes later he calmed; panic and fury gave way to cold composure.
“Whatever you are… I’ll strangle you. You won’t torment my soul again.” He muttered, “Everything started when that projection died. Something happened here.”
He pressed a palm to the ground and closed his eyes.
“An underground scene like this… Flame-Vein Earth Dragon? There was actually one here… Ma Yitian, that trash, is dead. Hmph. And—huh?”
Yiyu blinked, surprise flickering.
After hesitation he reached into the air, snatching something from below. A charred corpse materialized before him.
The body was burned beyond recognition—no vital signs. One leg had carbonized to dust; the face was featureless.
“Still a breath left after this?” Astonishment crossed Yiyu’s face. He studied the husk, eyes brightening.
“Excellent potential… a fine seedling.”
Smiling, he leaned over the ruined Shen Qingzhu and spoke leisurely:
“I know you can hear me. Your talent is remarkable, and surviving these wounds is a miracle… I’ll give you a chance.”
Yiyu whispered into what remained of his ear, each word distinct:
“A chance to abandon the past and be reborn. I can restore every injury, make you stronger—faster!
All you must do is believe in me… and become… my Believer.”