155: Chapter 155 The Lamp of Fate Burns the Pillar, Burning Debt, Not Fire

The altar at the peak of the Heart-Burning Altar was shrouded in scarlet flames, and dark red bloodstains seeped from the cracks between the bluestone bricks where the flames knelt—this was left from when he had just licked his palm with his forked tongue to stabilize the Sacred Fire using a believer's blood sacrifice.

At this moment, he suddenly froze, the tips of his forked tongue suspended in mid-air, emitting a screech similar to metal grinding in his throat: "There is the smell of a life lamp... in the blood!"

His seven tongue tendrils instantly straightened, piercing deep into the earth's veins like seven thin swords.

The crimson light in his pupils solidified and shot straight down along the network of the Soul-Drawing Pillar, slamming directly into that mass of reverse-burning blue flame. "He is below!" the Fire Tongue roared, overturning the offering table. The bronze lamp scattered sparks as it smashed onto the ground. He snatched the tinder incense from his waist and thrust it into the incense burner at the center of the altar—this incense was made from the bone powder of three hundred apostates mixed with Black Flame Grass. When lit, it would emit a shriek capable of splitting stone and tearing clouds, specifically used to summon the Fragrance Severers who guarded the altar.

In the underground ventilation shaft, the Quiet Fire Child huddled behind the damp rock wall, the Fire Temperature Compass burning a red mark onto his palm.

This compass had been passed down from his grandfather and could sense the subtle changes in the Sacred Fire's extraction frequency.

The bronze needle was spinning wildly, drawing chaotic lines on the parchment: "The fire... is going to explode... just like that day..." He recalled that three days ago, the old hunter from the neighboring village claimed to have seen a baby's hand floating in the Sacred Fire, and the next day, the entire village was dragged to the Heart-Burning Altar as living sacrifices.

The Quiet Fire Child bit his lip, his fingernails nearly digging into his palm.

He looked at the flickering sparks on the compass, suddenly made up his mind, and pushed the compass into the airflow of the ventilation shaft.

The bronze disc scraped against the rock wall as it slid down, making a clattering sound. He watched the streak of silver light disappear into the darkness, his throat tightening: "If this can help the person below..."

Chen Fan was staring at the fire chains on the main pillar of the earth vein when a bronze disc suddenly clattered down by his feet.

He squatted down to pick it up. The moment his fingertips touched the edge of the disc, the critical hit system in his brow exploded as if struck by lightning: [Tactile Critical Hit × 3.6 — Perception Enhanced].

The temperature curve crawled up his skin and into his sea of consciousness—he could 'see' it!

When the Sacred Fire was being extracted, every fire chain would contract for 0.7 seconds—that was the interval for the system to switch energy, just like the momentary pause when a person breathes. "Heaven helps me." Chen Fan clenched the compass. The blue flame within the life lamp burned even hotter, making the back of his neck feel hot, and even the hammer of the thunder god began to tremble.

"Chen Fan," Su Shuang's voice came from the crack in the stone, carrying a broken, airy sound.

He turned his head and saw the white fur on her fox tail self-immolating. A faint blue flame crept from her fingertips up to the back of his neck.

The temperature was not hot; instead, it felt like a piece of ice pressed against his skin, chilling him into a shiver. "My blood... can suppress the Sacred Fire for three breaths... enough for you... to strike once."

Redness appeared at the corners of Su Shuang's eyes, and small, fine hairs grew on her ear tips. Half of her fox face flickered in and out of the shadow.

She quickly formed a hand seal. Chen Fan could feel something surging out through their intertwined fingertips—it was soul fire, carrying the unique sweetness of the fox clan, like spring wind blowing over red-hot iron. The sound of the Sacred Fire being drawn suddenly lost its rhythm.

"Fox... fox demon?!" The Fire Tongue's scream came from above, his voice cracking with terror.

Chen Fan looked up and saw the runes on the rock wall cracking, causing the main pillar of the earth vein to shake as well.

He knew Su Shuang's three breaths were up. He grabbed her hand in return and poured the remaining power of the life lamp entirely into the hammer of the thunder god.

The critical hit system violently vibrated in his sea of consciousness, his spirit body compressed to the brink of collapse.

Chen Fan could hear his own bones creaking, like the beams of an old wooden house pressed to their limit. "Whether it works or not... this is the only shot!" he roared, swinging the hammer. The tip of the hammer heavily smashed onto the intersection point of the fire chains on the main pillar.

"Skill Critical Hit × Infinite?"

Before this notification sound could finish, a mountain-collapsing roar exploded from the earth vein.

Chen Fan was thrown against the rock wall by the blast, his vision darkening, but he could feel it—the fire current was surging backward!

The soul fire that had been surging upward along the Soul-Drawing Pillar was now like a snake whose neck had been grasped, frantically retreating backward, rushing straight back to the core of the altar along the rune pathways.

The Fire Tongue was blown five Zhang away by the wave of fire, bouncing off the stone pillar of the altar.

His robe was already burned down to mere fragments. The seven-forked tongue hung limply by his mouth as he watched the members of the Silver Scissors Squad melt into iron sludge—the silver scissors that were supposed to cut the life lamps of the apostates were now melting into a puddle of muck in the reverse-rushing fire current.

The Quiet Fire Child screamed in the ventilation shaft, his voice shredded by the roar: "Fire... is not a god... it devours people!" He saw sparks shooting up from the ground. Within that light were wrapped the old man's coughs, the crying of children, and the sound of his mother calling his childhood name before she died.

The remnant body of the Mysterious Lady was tossed to the edge of the altar by the blast. She looked at the crumbling Soul Guiding Banner and pulled her lips into a smile.

The banner had once held hundreds or thousands of life lamps; now, all were extinguished. "Little Ying... Mother didn't light your lamp this time..." She raised her hand to touch the last starlight lamp, only to find the lamp terrifyingly silent—there were no more whispers from the soul-draining victims.

Above the main city of the Yun Clan, the Sacred Fire Pillar, which had previously pierced the clouds, suddenly emitted a sound like tearing silk.

Chen Fan looked up from underground. Though he couldn't see the sky, he could sense the vibration—it was as if some chain was loosening.

Su Shuang's half-fox form slowly receded. She collapsed into Chen Fan's arms, the flame on her fox tail extinguished, leaving only a few wisps of smoke drifting away.

Chen Fan touched her face; her skin was ice-cold, but her heartbeat remained—though as weak as a thin thread.

"Let's go." He carried Su Shuang on his back, still clutching the hammer of the thunder god, its head still hot.

The fire current in the earth vein fissure had subsided, leaving only scattered sparks hopping by his feet.

He climbed upward over the broken runes. With every step, he could hear the sound of stone debris rustling down, like some kind of countdown.

A sound of wind came from above, mixed with the faint, intermittent sound of metal grinding—like the lingering sound of a broken chain.

Chen Fan looked up and saw a sliver of daylight leaking from the top of the fissure, illuminating Su Shuang's pale face.

He gritted his teeth and quickened his pace.