Chapter 22: Collapse

Bai Ci didn’t like snakes much, and she liked these snake-faced human statues even less—cold, slimy, dangerous, and venomous, always giving off a sinister, cunning vibe.

Lu Mingfei wasn’t a fan either…

“Let’s go together!”
Lu Mingfei glanced at the snake-faced statues and said.

Bai Ci thought for a moment, grabbed his hand, and moved forward.

Lu Mingfei froze.
He’d imagined some contact between them, but he didn’t expect her to just take his hand.

Her hand felt bony, not exactly soft, but cool and oddly comforting to hold.

Lu Mingfei didn’t like this place, but right now, he wished they could walk slower.
It was a strange, contradictory feeling—humans are weird like that.

After their splashing footsteps faded, the silent corridor echoed with mechanical whirring and metal grinding.

The snake-faced statues, previously bowed in reverence, straightened up in unison, their silver-cast pupils glinting coldly.

They didn’t know these statues didn’t always stay bowed.

It was a long trek.
The dye trail guided them through the labyrinthine corridors of the Bronze City until they reached an open space.

Soon, they arrived where Ye Sheng and Aki had been.
Bai Ci pursed her lips and looked at Lu Mingfei.
“Do you remember the map you decoded?”

Lu Mingfei’s mouth twitched.
How could he?
He didn’t decode it—his brother Lu Mingze had given him the cheat code.
He shook his head blankly.

“Ugh…”
Bai Ci frowned.
She was starting to doubt if he’d really decoded it.
He should remember something like that clearly.
She could recall it vividly, yet Lu Mingfei, the supposed decoder, couldn’t?

Why could he memorize every detail of a game map but drop the ball now?

“This is where ancient people came to worship the Dragon King,” Manstein’s voice came through the earpiece.
“According to the Ice Sea Fragments, they arrived on rafts and saw a giant bronze emperor under the sky.
This must be it.
But this isn’t the true palace—it’s a temple for crafting worshipped idols.
No records say anyone saw the Dragon King himself.”

“Man, what a hassle,” Lu Mingfei grumbled, his hope of planting the bomb and leaving dashed.
“He’s got this huge house and still needs a temple and a palace?”
He sighed.
“What’s in the palace?
Him and his dear little dragon lady?”

Bai Ci didn’t know about any dragon lady, but would a world-ending Dragon King really have those kinds of needs?
Did the four monarchs, like ancient emperors, rush to produce dragon heirs?

“No idea, but you’ll likely find an egg in the palace,” Manstein replied.

“What?!”
Lu Mingfei yelped.

Bai Ci suddenly felt someone grab her leg.
If it wasn’t a ghost, it had to be Lu Mingfei…

“Please, show some S-rank grit, okay?”
Bai Ci looked at him, exasperated…

Then she glanced down.
The riverbed was covered in eerie white bones, so dense there was nowhere to step.
Distinctive skulls and ribcages showed they were human.
Thousands had died here, their bones settling for millennia.

Bai Ci’s body stiffened.

Okay… it was a little scary.

She shivered, looking at Lu Mingfei.

He was still clutching her leg, head down, staring at the skeletons, his face a mix of crying and laughing.
“What are these?!”

“…”
Bai Ci patted his helmet consolingly.

Seeing him so spooked made it… less scary.

With Manstein, the Student Union, and Lionheart’s coordination, they reached Dragon King Norton’s palace smoothly.

Calling it a palace was generous—it looked more like an ancient Chinese house from a history book, cast in bronze.
Aside from the material, it was identical to those illustrations.

They planted the bomb and prepared to leave.

The bronze wall melted open, and a massive suction pulled them upward.
When they could see again, they were back underwater.

“The pressure’s lower here,” Lu Mingfei noted, checking the gauge.
It was half what it had been, meaning the water above was shallower.

Suddenly, he heard a faint scraping sound, growing louder, louder, until it roared like thunder.
Lu Mingfei couldn’t place it—it was like being a tiny figure inside a mechanical watch, hearing gears mesh, bearings spin, pendulums swing.
Amplified a thousandfold.

What made Bai Ci feel worse was that the comms line was gone!

A massive, round shadow fell from above.
Lu Mingfei watched it crash nearby, sinking into the bone pile, crushing millennia-old remains to dust.
It was a giant bronze gear, millstone-sized, weighing tons.

More gears fell, churning the water, followed by bronze fragments carved with branch and leaf patterns.
The ceiling began collapsing.

“What the hell?
This isn’t machinery—it’s a cave-in!”
Lu Mingfei’s eyes widened.

Among the falling fragments, a giant snake face emerged.
Dragon King Norton’s statue toppled—an eight-story-tall colossus, sinking with violent currents, aimed right at their heads.

“Only one way—down!”
Bai Ci grabbed Lu Mingfei, following the rushing current back into the palace.
Moments later, an earthquake-like crash shook the structure above, likely the statue hitting bottom.
The room trembled, on the verge of collapse.

The door guarded by the living spirit had cracked.
Even the resilient regenerated metal couldn’t withstand such force.
The current swept them toward a bronze waterwheel, pulling them deeper.
They plummeted into an endless abyss of water.
Before Lu Mingfei could take in their surroundings, a torrent roared from the exit above, crashing onto his head.