Chapter 202

Chapter 202

In the church's prayer hall, three young people huddled together, whispering over several stone slabs on the table.

Murphy: "Is this what we're looking for?"

Eve: "It seems so."

Yan Ning: "What kind of cryptic script is this? I can't recognize it at all."

Murphy: "For some reason... I feel like this script looks familiar... though I can't read it either."

Having finally found a key clue, they were stopped at the very threshold of deciphering it. Murphy looked quite frustrated.

"It's the Alchemical Cipher," Eve hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to reveal her knowledge of the cipher. In the end, she simply said, "Luo Wenzhou knows a bit of the Alchemical Cipher. Why didn't you call him over?"

"Miss Luo Lin took him away. Anyway, Japheth's team is hopeless. She said that team has two students from Imperial Arts and Sciences and one from the First Empire. Old grudges and new conflicts—they're probably rushing into a group battle right now?"

Murphy sighed: "The battles among the great academies are truly brutal!"

"You seem to be settling in quite comfortably here, even not minding that our school is at the bottom of the rankings."

A cold, sharp voice sounded. Murphy was startled, then turned his head in delight: "Hai Boer!"

Yang Haibo responded grumpily.

Han, who followed behind him, had a rather strange expression: "When I just came in, I heard you say the one tied up at the entrance is Japheth?"

"Any problem?" Yan Ning asked with a smirk. "Worried about your little brother?"

If the other party was really that soft-hearted, she wouldn't mind tying Han up too, letting these suffering brothers be together.

Although she didn't spell it out completely, Han strangely grasped her implication. He paused briefly, then had a sudden insight and said: "No, I'm just surprised you managed to capture Japheth as a hostage. I absolutely have no intention of questioning it."

Not only did he not question it at all, he even felt a bit of secret satisfaction and sympathy.

Perhaps in families with unbalanced affection, it's always like this. The differential treatment from the start determined that Han could never be among those who doted on Japheth.

He quickly changed the subject, naturally leaning over the table: "These slabs are all written in the Divine Script, and not everyone can learn it. It's normal that you outsiders can't read it."

"Look down on us, do you?" Murphy tsked, somewhat annoyed that a mere NPC was showing off in front of him. "Don't tell me you went through all this trouble just to show off that you can read it."

Han raised an eyebrow proudly: "I really can read it. Someone taught me."

Murphy: "?"

Even Eve and Yang Haibo couldn't help but glance at him now. Remembering something, Yang Haibo asked: "Taught by your mother?"

It wasn't that he, as an alchemist, was boasting, but learning the Alchemical Cipher required some talent—this script couldn't be mastered by rote memorization alone. Both insight and a guiding teacher were indispensable.

Han shook his head: "No, I didn't grow up with my mother. How could she be my teacher? It was my foster mother who taught me."

"Foster mother?" Eve questioned.

Han seemed reluctant to discuss this topic. He merely gave a vague acknowledgment and walked over to look at the stone slabs. He left Eve standing next to Yang Haibo, studying him with a suspicious gaze: "Did you obtain some information that you haven't told me and Yan Ning?"

Clearly, we're a team, yet you're withholding information. This is a serious issue of team trust.

"Although we are a team," Eve said with a smile, "when it comes to you, Yan Ning and I are fully capable of eliminating you. I just wonder, if you get eliminated on the ghost ship, will you be sent back to the island, or directly eliminated from the third round of the league?"

Yang Haibo: "...Could you not say such scary things right off the bat? It's like you've been infected by Yan Ning. I also only have a rough idea about his foster mother's identity. Twenty years ago, the Fuqiu family received a divine oracle. The god on the Sacred Mountain demanded that this family kill their second son. Unwilling to kill their own child, the mistress of the house, with help, allowed a woman from outside to take the young Han away. I suspect his foster mother is actually someone from the outside world. Taking the young Han away was her mission, and she also happened to be an alchemist."

"That sounds quite reasonable," Eve said. "But the question is, why would the Alchemical Cipher be the Divine Script of this world?"

If the Alchemical Cipher is truly related to this world's Divine Script, then there are only two possibilities:

First, Han's foster mother is a native NPC of this world, and there might be intricate connections between this world and the real world, with alchemy as the link.

Second, Han's foster mother is from the outside world. And in a time even earlier than hers and theirs, alchemists from the outside world had already come to this clumsy door world, teaching the Alchemical Cipher to the people of the god, or perhaps to the god itself.

Either possibility seems somewhat terrifying upon deeper thought.

Yang Haibo and Eve stared at each other for a while. Finally, he let out a dry chuckle: "Maybe I should go take a look at the stone slabs instead."

Avoidance is shameful but effective. Eve also nodded silently.

The two soon moved their focus to the slabs. Murphy and Yan Ning, who couldn't read the Alchemical Cipher, were excluded. They could only listen to Yang Haibo's translation and then offer some comments of little substantive value.

"These are records of this family's prayers to the god. So many, a whole thick stack of them," Yang Haibo reached out, flipping through the pile of stone slabs, making the hard record materials rustle. "If all their wishes were granted by the god, then it's no surprise they became the most devout believers."

Yan Ning scoffed lightly: "Treating their god like a wishing tree."

Yang Haibo: "Perhaps. But after you read these things, you'll understand why he chose to sacrifice his second son. It's not strange anymore."

For some reason, after reading the slabs, Han's body became unusually stiff. His face was tense, and his eyes seemed to burn with anger.

In stark contrast to his physical reaction, his voice was exceptionally soft as he read the contents of the slabs:

"Most of the content here is simply records of exchanges through prayers. For example, offering thirty sheep in exchange for favorable weather in the new year, or offering 10 jin of grain to pray for a year free from disasters and pain. These records are normal. Only three records are different... ones that used a human being as the exchange price."

"The first one was 30 years ago, also one of the earliest records in this pile. My father... that man exchanged my mother's hands for Fuqiu, to become the only passageway to the Sacred Mountain. The second was 24 years ago. He offered my eldest brother's half brainstem to the god, in exchange for his own ability to read and use the Divine Script without obstacles. The third was 20 years ago. You all know about that one. I was the object of that sacrifice. The corresponding wish was for him to obtain an immortal soul."

"Terrible greed," Eve sighed, massaging her temples. "Immortal souls aren't only found in the divine realm; souls in hell are immortal too."

To think someone would actually abandon their family for such illusory things.

The truth was so absurd that it left one speechless.

Han put down the slab with an expressionless face. A rustling sound came from the corner of the prayer hall. He turned and saw that Japheth had actually managed to free himself from the ropes and had moved near the entrance.

Given Yan Ning's skilled tying technique, it was basically impossible for someone as slender-limbed as Japheth to break free on his own. She asked casually: "Who untied him?"

"Me," Eve raised her hand in admission. "I just wanted to manually balance the difficulty between the teams a bit."

At this point in the story progression, even someone like Murphy, who tended to not use his brain much, should be able to infer how the different quest lines are connected.

The most complex quest line is undoubtedly Han's line. It's fraught with danger; death means starting over. The goal is to help Han escape from this family and gain a new life. But corresponding to the difficulty, this quest line also holds significant influence. Almost all key clues are closely related to Han.

The difficulty of Shan's quest line is second only to Han's. While there's no life-or-death crisis, just dealing with a guy missing half his brain yet possessing immense strength is taxing enough. To complete this quest, they probably need to retrieve the half of Shan's brain that was taken, which inevitably means confronting the people in the red house.

The simplest is Japheth's team. No information about him was found on the slabs, as if after harming two sons, they finally spared the last one. Japheth's team only needs to protect Japheth from harm during the mission. Simple, but there's a cost—they are almost entirely disconnected from the main storyline.

Even so, Eve felt that Japheth's team got a good deal. The ghost ship has its own law of survival of the fittest. Although it's unclear whether those who fail are sent to a lower-level room or directly eliminated, undoubtedly only those who successfully complete the level can progress to the next, higher-level room. So what if the score in this room is poor? As long as they progress, performing better in the next room will result in a decent league score.

Only those who keep advancing get opportunities. Once eliminated, there's nothing.

Precisely because of this, Eve couldn't tolerate working so hard to clear the stage while others were waiting around to be carried through.

It's always been her taking advantage of others; she absolutely could not allow others to benefit from her efforts.

So the question arises: Japheth, now aware of all the sins in the chapel, if he runs out and immediately bumps into his guilt-ridden father leading a group here—what will happen? Will father-son affection continue, or will suspicion arise between them? Or perhaps, go all the way and break off completely?

Just at this moment, Japheth has already reached the chapel door. He presses his hands on the handle, relying on the distance created by rows of solemn white birchwood pews that act like barriers—even if someone wanted to strike him, they couldn’t reach.

He’s about to flee, but before running off, he vents spitefully: "You vile traitors, heretics! How dare you fabricate such lies to slander my father behind his back! Just wait until I report all this to him—none of you will escape!"

A sliver of daylight suddenly shines through the door crack, illuminating the stunned faces of the others.

"Oh my god, your brother's a total moron," Murphy can’t help exclaiming. "He’s literally digging his own grave."

Han’s expression is equally complicated; he never expected that even with evidence practically shoved in Japheth’s face, the latter would still choose to blindly trust the wrong side: "He’s beyond saving. Even if our father admitted everything right in front of him, he’d just think it was a joke."

"Totally brainwashed," Murphy sighs.

Yan Ning sits on the table, swinging her slender legs: "I’m curious what his door icon was. Could it be a pig, given how stupid he is?"

Come to think of it, before entering, she did seem to see a pig among the icons on the corridor doors.

"......"

It’s hard to imagine what mindset someone must have had to choose such a unique icon.

"Father!"

A slender figure comes running from the distance. Hidden in the group, Luo Lin looks up and, recognizing Japheth, subtly exchanges a glance with Ludwig beside her.

The other two Imperial Arts and Sciences students have already been dealt with; now only Ludwig is handling Japheth’s storyline. Adjusting his expression, he steps forward to receive him: "Third Young Master."

"Get away from me!"

Unexpectedly, Japheth slaps Ludwig’s extended hand away. He glares fiercely, then turns and tightly clutches his father’s arm.

A dark look flashes in Ludwig’s eyes, but he obediently retreats into the group. The young master’s willfulness is well-known in the household, so few find it strange even when he publicly rejects help. Ludwig, however, is more curious about the sudden change in attitude.

"Did you provoke the NPC?" Luo Lin whispers, lowering her head.

Ludwig shakes his head—it could mean he didn’t, or that it wasn’t him who provoked the NPC. A double meaning.

The gaunt, elegant man gently pats his youngest son’s head, his tone still mild: "Japheth, where were you? Anger is not a virtue."

"I just escaped from the chapel—from those heretics!"

Finally seeing his father, Japheth doesn’t notice the oddity of everyone holding weapons. The grievance of being bullied and the unease from overhearing the stone tablets surge up, driving him to blurt out accusations wildly.

Ludwig’s face suddenly changes—having just been pushed away, he hasn’t had time to cover Japheth’s big mouth.

"That traitor rummaged through the chapel as if searching for something. He pulled out a stack of stone tablets from the front cabinet in the prayer hall, and then they all started spouting nonsense about them."

Japheth initially intended to reveal everything Han and the others discussed, but facing his father’s still-gentle smile, he suddenly gets a chill. The words stick in his throat, and driven by instinct, he hesitates and says: "...And they tied me up, abused me."

Rolling up his sleeves reveals red marks on his arms from the ropes—clear signs he'd been roughed up.

"They certainly went too far," the man says slowly, pondering. "But—Japheth, how can you prove that after spending so long with heretics, you haven’t been corrupted?"

Japheth’s eyes widen in shock, his mind blank.

Quick as lightning, Luo Lin, who had sensed something wrong, activates her Spiritual State. Emerald vines burst from the ground, wrapping around Japheth’s waist while tripping the surrounding servants. Ludwig and Luo Wenzhou dart to both sides, arms swinging like blades, knocking down three or four unprepared servants. But as the master angrily scolds, the fight becomes increasingly chaotic.

Two fists are no match for four hands, especially since these aren’t normal people—they’re enhanced beings with several times the strength of ordinary humans after special rituals, and they’re armed. Ludwig and Luo Wenzhou soon find themselves struggling.

"Why let this guy come back and mess things up?" Ludwig grumbles amid the chaos. "Seriously, did the chapel group do it on purpose? Can’t even keep one person under watch!"

"Looks like only Chief Eve is from our school there; the others are from outside, right?" Luo Wenzhou guesses. "Could they be having internal conflict?"

Though he usually respects Chief Eve, thinking about the other three troublemakers—especially Yan Ning—it’s not impossible something went wrong.

A powerfully built servant raises his cleaver high, but before it falls, Ludwig severs both his arms. Blood sprays as he kicks away the convulsing enemy, enduring the stickiness on his hands, and despairingly says:

"Bullshit! If Eve couldn’t control them, she’d have been eliminated and sent back to base long ago. She definitely let him out herself!"

The fresh grassy scent is gradually overtaken by the smell of iron.

Thankfully, they’re not far from the destination. In the distance, the white spire of the chapel hidden in the clouds is visible.

Clang!

Luo Lin sidesteps to avoid Shan’s curved blade. The metal weapon smashes heavily into the boulder where she stood moments ago, shattering it to pieces. Shan easily lifts the several-pound heavy blade again.

With half her attention still on Japheth, Luo Lin doesn’t dare be careless. Another cluster of flexible vines emerges from the ground, entangling Shan’s large frame as Luo Lin’s robe billows, retreating several meters. She sharply calls: "Luo Wenzhou!"

"Got it!"

The black-haired youth’s aura shifts dramatically. His once proper and disciplined movements suddenly turn wild and sinister. His joints harden, nails grow sharp and long, and even his eyes gleam with a faint blue light—Dragon Maiden has taken over.

A silver lining: though previously tricked by the Fourth Legion, after being forcibly stimulated with drugs, Luo Wenzhou finds his connection to his Spiritual State has strengthened.

At least he can now release it and barely pull it back.

Dragon Maiden’s killing instinct remains unchanged. Before his consciousness fully clears, he instinctively thrusts his hand through the chest of a nearby person. Ludwig and Luo Lin have already abandoned their enemies and run far away.

No joke—this guy doesn’t distinguish friend from foe. Once the slaughter begins, it’s hard to say whether teammates or enemies are more terrifying.

After swiftly killing six people, the NPCs wise up. Shan personally confronts Dragon Maiden—one immensely strong, the other feeling no pain—while the rest raise their various weapons and charge straight toward Luo Lin, Ludwig, and Japheth fleeing to the chapel. A dark mass giving off strong "pursuer mob" vibes typical of escape games.

What rotten luck today—tied up again shortly after escaping. But Japheth has no time for anger, instead looking gloomily at his biological father, looking unusually disheveled, protected within the servant crowd.

"Let me down," he suddenly shouts, still in that annoying commanding tone. "I want to ask Father clearly."

Luo Lin ignores his unreasonable demand: "If you want to die, I can end you right now with one swipe."

Japheth is infuriated by her blunt tone, but thinking of his current situation and his father’s earlier betrayal, he feels desolate and wronged: "Then kill me! If you hate me so much, why save me!"

"What’s his problem now?" Ludwig says surprised. "So fearless?"

Luo Lin says flatly: "Like you said—throwing a tantrum. He watched his brother get bullied without empathy, thinking he was different. Now that the blade is finally pointed at him, he feels the pain and starts acting out."

Really reminds her of someone else from memory.

She has no fondness for Japheth, so she doesn’t lower her voice, making Japheth flush red and pale alternately.

The chapel doors stand wide open, like a generous host or a carefully set trap. Originally a mill, the chapel has two floors: the lower space arranged as a normal church, the upper floor still the old mill. Solid wood steps lead up to dust-covered stone grinding tools lying on the floor, with bags of milled flour leaning against the walls.

As soon as Luo Lin and Ludwig rush into the chapel, they head straight for the inner staircase. The pursuing NPCs, confident in their numbers, follow their master’s "enter" command and flood into the chapel.

The moment the last servant steps inside, the chapel doors slam shut with a bang. White flour pours down from the ceiling, falling thick and fast, choking the pursuers who cough uncontrollably, unable to open their eyes. They wave their arms wildly, trying to shake off the powder, but their movements stir the air, worsening the chaos.

Han crouches in the second-floor stairwell, assigned to guard here. Hearing his father coughing while authoritatively ordering his men to calm down, he doesn’t know what to feel.

"Struggle of a cornered beast."

For some reason, this phrase suddenly came to his mind. Not long ago, it had been used to describe himself, but now, the reference had clearly shifted without anyone noticing.

Japheth was tossed beside him, his bindings changed from the noble S-class Spiritual State to a simple hemp rope. The boy had been quite unruly on the road, but now, a mere casual glance from Han was enough to make him instinctively shut his mouth.

Han knew what was going through his mind—guilt, hatred, and shame, a mix of emotions coalescing into a unique kind of fear. Even though he knew full well that here, compared to those strangers of unknown origin, Han was the least likely to harm him, Japheth couldn’t suppress his fear of this unfamiliar older brother.

Eve peeked through the door crack and saw that the NPCs had already struggled their way to the prayer hall amid the falling white powder—the area where the powder was falling thickest.

The floor between levels was also made of wood. Creating a dust cloud wasn’t hard, but under such intense pouring, the flour in the corners was being consumed at an alarming rate. If the goal was merely to stall for time, it wouldn’t last long. Even Han knew this, and his father would know even better.

"Just sprinkling powder without attacking," Han frowned, "is not a long-term solution."

Eve looked at him with a mysterious look. Not only that, but as soon as he spoke, the others on the second floor also looked at him strangely.

Murphy sighed, "Ah, knowledge is power. Kid, you really should study more math and science."

Yang Haibo sneered, "Hearing that from you is really out of character."

"......" Murphy’s expression was complicated. "Is it just me, or does it feel like your sentence ended with a very ill-timed tag? Yeah? Absolutely, right? Are you imitating Yan Ning?!"

This was obvious, so aside from Ludwig, who was joining this group for the first time and glanced at him curiously, no one else paid any attention to Murphy.

"Why is no one talking?" Murphy lamented bitterly. "This is bullying!"

"Alright, stop yelling—shouldn’t the flour be almost all sprinkled by now?"

Eve got up and passed behind him, gently patting his blond head as a form of comfort. She picked up a box of matches from the table but didn’t light them immediately, instead opening the second-floor window first.

A fresh breeze blew in, dispersing the remaining powder on the second floor. Yan Ning, standing close by, leaned against the windowsill and looked down. "It’s a bit high—several meters. Does any brother or sister have a Spiritual State they can use?"

Jade-green vines made another appearance, stretching from the mill’s second-floor windowsill down to the soft grassy ground. The cloud-like patterns on the stems were mysterious and elegant, dreamlike like the magic beanstalk from a fairy tale.

Yan Ning whistled cheerfully, "Thanks!"

She flipped over the windowsill and slid smoothly down the slippery vine. Behind her, Ludwig was also pulled down by the overly friendly Murphy. Yang Haibo handed a tightly woven cloth rope to Eve, saying "Sorry to trouble you," before climbing down the vine steadily—apparently not completely influenced by Yan Ning’s influence.

Luo Lin initially intended to bring Japheth down as well. No matter how annoying the boy was, he was still Ludwig’s task NPC and couldn’t be left entirely unattended. But Han had already steadily hoisted his youngest brother over his shoulder with one hand and nodded to her. "I’ve caused you trouble earlier. I’ll handle him myself."

Since his older brother had said so, there was no need for further courtesy. Luo Lin nodded and then sat on a special small seat specially woven from Mist Cloud Vine, sliding down smoothly. Han followed, climbing down with just one hand.

The last to leave was Eve. She stuffed the lower end of the cloth rope into a pre-dug small hole, letting it hang down to the first floor, while leaving the upper end on the second floor. The moment the match ignited the cloth, she swiftly dashed out of the mill.

Her companions who had gone down earlier had already fled separately in the face of disaster. The moment she landed, the Mist Cloud Vine turned into glowing green particles and returned to Luo Lin’s spiritual world. Without time to hesitate or even glance back, Eve sprinted away from the direction of the small church.

Perhaps three seconds, maybe five—in any case, the match burned through the cloth quickly, and the burning cloth triggered a dust explosion in the enclosed space even faster. Eve had only managed to run a few dozen meters when a deafening boom like thunder erupted, accompanied by belated screams.

_Boom—_ _Crash—_

The powerful blast wave even lifted Eve briefly off her feet. The tightly shut doors of the small church were blown apart, two blackened wooden doors hanging pitifully half-off the walls. Even the second floor wasn’t spared—all windows and doors were shattered by the blast. Dark smoke rose from these exits, and the once pristine small church was now like a nation beyond saving, surrounded by smoke and without a single survivor.

"So terrifying," Eve steadied herself against a tree, even she hadn’t expected such a hastily devised dust explosion plan to be so devastating. "But this church still hasn’t collapsed... the quality is really good."

Probably something else was protecting it.

Being the closest, while the other students were still on their way back, Eve was the first to step into the half-destroyed small church. The interior was nothing like before—soot marks and the acrid smell of smoke filled the space, with pockets of flame still burning fiercely in the corners.

She stepped around the bodies on the ground, rendered unrecognizable by the explosion, and finally came to a stop at the entrance of the prayer hall.

The table that had once carefully held the stone tablet fragments was gone, as was the deep wood shrine. In their place stood a faintly glowing golden door, standing silently there.

On the ground about a meter in front of the door lay a charred body lying face-down, its withered hand still stretched forward as if striving to touch something it had pursued all its life but never could reach.

Eve bent down and pulled several intact stone fragments from the charred corpse’s palm.