161 Mist

A milky-white liquid, like a silver ribbon, poured down from high above and pooled into a small, charming little pond on the ground. The nature of the liquid was unknown; it looked like water, yet wherever it passed, it "dyed" the surroundings a glowing, pale cyan. Behind the stone door, it was thanks to this pale cyan light that the greater part of the actual scene could be vaguely discerned.

As the wind blew, the cascading liquid was atomized and scattered with the breeze, filling the entire space with a dense mist. The chill that could seep into one's very body and soul originated from this thick fog. Most importantly, this mist was immensely nourishing to the spirit; even someone as dull-witted as an orc could sense the rich vitality contained within the vapor!

Faced with such concentrated vitality, almost everyone struggled to suppress their inner impulses, involuntarily stepping forward with the desire to capture the source of that yearning vitality at the very first moment. Whether for martial artists or mages, "vitality" was the most potent form of energy. Its generation was often the result of the materialization of highly concentrated local energy, representing the essence of a land's energy. It could truly be called an absolute supreme treasure of nature!

The further forward they walked, the thicker the water mist became. It drifted and hovered, blocking their path like a physical substance. The mist was so dense that it felt almost viscous. Walking through it was like passing through some kind of semi-transparent, gauze-like solid, giving the sensation of parting something with one's hands. In truth, the mist was indeed being "parted," for once a person passed, a mist-free void would form in the air, remaining until three or five seconds later when the surrounding vapor rushed in to fill the gap.

Such a phenomenon was rather abnormal, yet most of the members in this traveling party were so captivated by the temptation of the "vitality" that they had no mind to notice the peculiarities of the surrounding environment.

However, Teresa, who was the first to detect the anomaly here, was different. Not long after walking, a vague sense of unease began to well up within her. It was a feeling born purely of intuition, devoid of any warning sign, yet it suddenly made her restless. Amidst this anxiety, she could not help but stop in her tracks.

"Keep moving." The moment she stopped, Lambert, who had been following closely by her side, suddenly grasped her shoulder and gently pushed her forward.

"Lambert!" Teresa looked up in astonishment, about to voice her protest, only to find that Lambert's expression was unusually solemn—so solemn that she instinctively swallowed all her words back down...

Ever since she had met Lambert, she had never seen him wear such a serious and stern look. Did this signify that there was some kind of threat here severe enough to warrant such cautious vigilance from him?

At this thought, Teresa's body tensed up in an instant! Yet, she was no novice to combat, so within a mere moment, she relaxed again, though deep inside, her alertness had been raised to the highest level.

Being tense on the inside while relaxed on the outside was the most appropriate approach for dealing with unknown situations!

Since Lambert was holding her shoulder, he was naturally the most acutely aware of Teresa's reaction. Seeing this, he nodded with satisfaction and released his grip on her.

The group continued forward. As they walked, Flora gradually began to notice that something was amiss, though she was checked by Lambert using the exact same method. Meanwhile, the group of orcs remained excited and eager all the way, accelerating their pace more and more as if they wanted to immediately locate that "source of vitality." Such abnormal anticipation inevitably caused Teresa and Flora to display expressions of worry and surprise.

Logically speaking, these orcs should have been thoroughly well-trained. In this expedition to the ruins, they clearly possessed a very definite objective. Following their routine training, they ought not to have shown such intense interest in matters outside their primary goal—this was not a question of whether they desired it or not, but a question of whether they were permitted to have it!

Putting personal gains above official duties was the greatest taboo!

Yet now, the orcs—and Teresa specifically observed the raccoon-kin, whose status among the orcs was far from ordinary—all wore the same expression: an overwhelming joy faintly laced with anxiety and eagerness!

This indicated that the "source of vitality" could substitute for their primary objective!

Was it possible that some major figure within the orc race had suffered severe injuries, fallen victim to a deadly poison, or was in urgent need of breaking through a bottleneck?

In an instant, Teresa's mind unconsciously raced through various turns and speculations.

Before she knew it, the space ahead suddenly grew light, and her vision brightened. Squinting, Teresa realized they had passed completely through the misty zone!

Instinctively, she turned her head to look at Lambert with surprise. If there was truly something waiting to ambush them, wouldn't it have been much more convenient to do so within the mist? Why would they be allowed to pass through the fog so easily?

At this moment, however, Lambert did not notice Teresa's inquiring gaze; his attention was entirely focused ahead, concentrated squarely on the orcs.

Before the group lay the small pond they had first caught sight of upon entering the stone door. Up close, one could see that the little pond rested upon a fractured rock ledge about a dozen meters off the ground. Furthermore, the pond was not level; instead, it resembled a tilted winnowing basket with its fan-shaped face turned upward. A stream of water, as thin as a silver thread, flowed from the "bottom" of the "basket," cascading slowly to the ground and forming a thin layer of water. Similarly, this water layer, which reached about ankle-deep for a human, dyed the nearby rock surface a faint cyan. Up close, it inevitably evoked an eerie sensation, which appeared somewhat out of place when compared to the rich vitality of the surrounding area.

However, the anomalies of this water layer did not end there, for upon the water's surface actually grew a layer of pale pink, nearly translucent matter, four or five centimeters high, resembling velvety moss!

The cyan stone rock face, the bizarre milky-white liquid, and the even more bizarre pink "velvety moss"...

The convergence of these eerie elements only made Teresa's scalp tingle, causing the unease in her heart to redouble and churn—

"Lambert!" Overwhelmed by the rising tide of anxiety, she could not help calling out the name of the strongest individual in the party—as if feeling certain that Lambert must have a way to resolve the bizarre situation before them and soothe her ever-deepening inner dread.

This was entirely an instinct, one whose specific mindset even Teresa herself could not fully comprehend.

Hearing Teresa call his name while he was on full alert, Lambert turned his head in puzzlement. Seeing her face scrunched up completely, he was both slightly surprised and amused. He reached out and patted her head without saying a word, yet the gesture miraculously made Teresa settle down.

Just as Teresa was wrestling with her unease, the orcs had already stepped into the liquid—at this moment, Teresa realized that the liquid itself was not what dyed objects cyan, for no cyan glow appeared on the orcs' bodies at all!

Then, did the problem lie within the stone itself?

With a swift turn of her thought, Teresa crouched down and began to scratch at the rock on the ground. As she scraped, sure enough, she discovered the problem... (To be continued)