Nobody knew what they could find in the nucleus, so all they could do was be prepared to fight at any moment.
In the silent place, the first step was taken, starting an unstoppable avalanche of many steps following the first one, all with the same desire: destroy the nucleus and obtain all the benefits.
General Huo had already told all the leaders about the means to reach the nucleus—they are located underground, more accurately, under the pillars.
Each group had already taken their path—the imperial group is nearby in front of the pillars that they need to destroy.
The sound of footsteps scattered with every passing second. Xue Yanluo turned his head to look around and find the reason—even General Huo had stopped.
The first soldier he noticed was the one closest to him; his knee was trembling with a strange, almost erratic violence, as though something were pulling the muscle from the inside.
Dust rose as many weapons dropped to the ground. The weaker soldiers convulsed with greater fury and bled from their noses and eyes.
The only people unaffected were the three of them, and it wasn't difficult for any of them to find the most likely reason—they were vampires.
But that only left them more confused. Did this place have something to do with vampires? Or was it simply somewhere with a strong effect against humans?
"What… do we do?" Bao Qingcao whispered to Xue Yanluo. There wasn't a single person who wasn't showing the same symptoms.
Xue Yanluo swept the area with his gaze, and it finally landed on General Huo. He approached him—among everyone present, he was the only one showing a different reaction.
General Huo had his grip driven into his spear, with no intention of releasing it even as his entire arm shook without control.
A crack burst through the monotone sounds of the surroundings, forcing the old sounds to make way and drawing the attention of all three. From General Huo's arm, a wound split through it, fragments of bone breaking free with great force.
"… What the hell must be going through the general's head to do that?" Hua Zhenfeng said in a stifled shout, remembering their situation and barely managing to keep his voice down.
Xue Yanluo looked at the wound and then at General Huo's face. What the hell is happening? We could wake him… No, first I need to know what's happening to him… but how? Having Zhenfeng touch him would be dangerous… Water? We could throw water on him, but that will wake him…
It's impossible that something so stupid would wake him… Can we only watch? Xue Yanluo clicked his tongue and focused his mind. His current state has to do with this place, but not with proximity… The soldiers further away are the same. A trap…? Maybe that's it… But how does it work?
Xue Yanluo searched around with his eyes, looking for anything that could be a trap. Using his spiritual sense would be foolish—if General Huo hadn't found it, how could he?
If it really was a trap, there had to be a manual trigger or something similar nearby. His search was quickly cut short when a cry like that of a wounded beast rang out among the soldiers.
He turned his head toward the sound, searching through the soldiers until he saw something moving among the sea of almost completely rigid puppets. He ran toward it—he had to know the cause.
Near the movement, a foul smell broke into the air. It effortlessly replaced the most ordinary quality of the wind, and now the air carried a smell that burned the lungs and made you never want to breathe again.
A man had collapsed, his body secreting black filth instead of blood. His body convulsed on the ground. It was melting, and a last scream burst from the man as he raised what remained of his arm toward the sky.
The black stain he had become spread across the ground, creating a dark pool that began to hum and gather.
Xue Yanluo didn't need to know anything more. From his emblem he took out a completely red talisman with yellow characters carved into both sides. He injected a little energy and threw it toward the black liquid.
From the center of the talisman, a black point appeared and grew as it released currents of smoke rising toward the sky. Then a flame began to crackle, expanding rapidly and consuming the talisman.
The flame grew until it had burned through all the talisman's paper, continuing to burn with force and no more fuel as it fell onto the dark tide.
When the flame touched the filth, it was determined to conquer the surface of the tide, spreading across all of it and burning with greater will.
The dark tide convulsed in pain, bubbles rising from it and bursting shortly after, as though it were screaming.
The flame burned for a few more seconds before dying, leaving only ash behind as proof of its existence. In the area, the dark tide had vanished, leaving only the foul-smelling ground stained black.
Xue Yanluo watched the whole process, crouched down, and picked up an object that had survived the flame. It was a silver ring, now stained black and filthy, but its former appearance was still visible through it all.
He cleaned it a little with a cloth, and on the inside it had an inscription carved into it: If the heavens fall, they will not dare to separate us. He looked at the ring for a few seconds, then wrapped it in the cloth and stored it in his emblem.
His gaze moved back across each soldier in the group. His first thought had been to try to help them—or at least help the general and the other important figures—but now he wanted to try to help these soldiers too.
With a gesture of his hand, he gathered Hua Zhenfeng and Bao Qingcao to give them instructions. "Search every part of the area for any sign of a trap—if not, use every means you can to wake the soldiers. Be careful if any of them go the way of that soldier and turn into one of those black things."
The three of them quickly began searching the area; they even turned over stones to look underneath them. Their eyes darted from one object to the next, wasting not a single second in their hunt for the next target.
Their movements pounded the ground, kicking up dust and dirt with every stride, every lift, and every disappointment.
In that place, two melodies wavered: the unpredictable music of the earth crunching beneath their feet, objects and vegetation snapping, and murmurs of disappointment; the other was in no hurry to sound, but every note was shrill—a cry of pain, a man falling, and his final sound before moving on to the next singer.