459.Chapter 457 456 This is not a defeat, but only a 95 victory for the

Chapter 457 456.This is not a failure, only 95% of the victory – for the “warm wine speech” brother plus more [2325].

Thirty minutes is actually quite a long time.

For male friends, thirty minutes already belongs to the capital that can be shown off in any occasion.

However, for the action of searching for important items in a vast unknown area, thirty minutes is not worth mentioning.

Torn Flesh wasn’t confident that it could find the secret stash of the King of Biting Bones in thirty minutes, but the good news was that the mysterious psychic beside it who was traveling with it seemed to be familiar with the area.

The magic carpet floated lightly through the areas shrouded in thick fog, carrying him and Torn Flesh along without making any turns or deflections at all, and after a few minutes of rapid flight they came to a stop in front of a bare cave.

“This is it, the entrance to the core of the exhibition hall from Area A. It’s exactly as described in the ‘Friar Chief’s’ exploration notes.”

The psychic jumped off the magic carpet and went up to touch the strangely textured rocky cave with a marvelous feeling as he whispered:
“Ancient greatness shaped ah, but still can’t defeat the vicissitudes of time, wiped out all the magic remaining here only the outline of the old days, not even a shadow, just a fragmented past.”

“You seem familiar with this place?”

Torn Flesh asked suspiciously as it followed this Psychic Master:
“Have you been here before? Or maybe someone from your organization has been here before?”

“More than once.”

The psychic didn’t hide these answers.

He explained as he led Torn Flesh into the dimly lit cavern before him:

“Over the past few decades, our organization has explored this place several times, yet each time we were unable to truly penetrate to the core, and the greatness of the ancient times still resides here, allowing us to glimpse the hidden secrets but not penetrate deeper.

Almost every exploration has been to no avail, this is a tightly knit system, what you see here maintains a connection with other places 10,000 miles away that we can’t comprehend, and it is only when my fellow travelers make breakthroughs elsewhere that the paths here will open up to us.

So many bruising explorations have only brought back the exact topography of this place and the weaknesses of Ninkinanka…well, that can’t even be called a weakness.

They came from among the swarms themselves, and banishing them there was just a way for them, the wanderers, to ‘come home’.

Fortunately, though, thanks to the labors of a distant friend, the door to the land of creation was finally able to be opened today after cutting off some sort of invisible force of protection!”

“You just said that you came over on a mission this time?”

Torn Flesh asked in a low voice:

“So, you already have a grasp of entering this mysterious core?”

“This… is not an answer you should know, my dear Lord Jackal, what I’m going to do here has nothing to do with you at all.”

The psychic refused dryly:

“One piece of advice I would give you from a proper style perspective is to stay away from things you shouldn’t be touching nor should you know about, the remains of the King of Biting Bones are just up ahead in the visitor’s hall, take it with you and leave.”

“Just the remains?”

Torn Flesh said with a frown:
“And the secret stash?”

“That’s not something you can get your hands on right now.”

The psychic said in an aggravated tone:

“No one knows what the King of Biting Bones did here in the first place, but we can be sure that the Jackal’s civilization tablet has been sent to the heart of the exhibit hall, that some incomprehensible authentication process has been initiated, and that the thing is being protected by the power of the Creator.

Not to mention you being a poor silver ranked warlock, even if a team of gold powerhouses were here it would be impossible to violently break down the door.

However, that’s what I’m here for.

With any luck, you’ll be able to return to the Dark Mountains with the Jackal’s civilization tablet while I complete my mission.”

“Slate of Civilization?”

Torn Meat said with a roll of his eyes:

“So, this ‘civilization tablet’ is the secret stash of the King of Biting Bones? That’s the first time I’ve heard of that word, what exactly does it represent? You see, I’m going to leave in a while, right, Your Excellency, please, for the sake of me being considered a psychic, don’t let me leave with a belly full of questions.

That would give me sleepless nights.”

“You’ve got quite a few questions for an old jackal, you should be glad I’m quite a sharer.”

The lead psionicist bristled as he pulled his hood upward, then explained to Torn Flesh behind him as he stepped onto the rotating staircase downward in the depths of the cavern:

“The so-called ‘civilization tablet’ is a symbol that every race possesses, it symbolizes the power of a race to exist and continue in this world, and its holder is the spokesperson of the civilization.

You can understand it as a proof of identity.

It possesses a variety of magical powers, and each tablet has a different effect, but it is certain that when you are recognized by the tablet, you are an individual representing your race who will be endowed with ancient powers.

Back then, the King of Biting Bones was able to gather the largest and craziest Jackal Black Plague army ever, precisely because it found the Jackal Civilization Slate and was recognized by it.

Therefore, the true name of the King of Biting Bones should be ‘the spokesman of the Jackals’.

Oops, it’s a pity that the first half of the King of Biting Bones’ life is very obscure.

No one knew where it had found the Lost Civilization Tablet, and that cunning Jackal had been deliberately erasing information about the first half of its life, and it clearly didn’t intend to let others know about the ‘treasure trove’ that belonged to it alone.

What a selfish bastard!”

The psychic complained:

“If we could have known where the King of Biting Bones’ treasure trove was, Dusk’s greatness wouldn’t have been delayed for so many years… It must have found some important relic left over from the Creator Era before the Era…”

“Mossy Valley!”

Torn Flesh whispered:
“The place where the King of Biting Bones first started is there, and the fact that its first goal after rising to power was to seize Moss Valley from the Shadow Elves proves that that place means a lot to the King of Biting Bones.”

“Indeed, that is the most likely place for the relics to exist, yet we couldn’t find it, and the entire Mossy Valley has almost been turned over.”

The psychic shook his head:

“It’s not just us, I guess even the descendants of the Bite Bone King’s clan don’t know the exact location of that relic, perhaps the Bite Bone King didn’t intend for others to inherit that information at all. It’s just up ahead, remove anything with psychic energy on you.”

He turned back to Torn Flesh and warned him:
“There are guardsmen in the Visitor’s Hall that react to psychic energy, do as you’re told if you don’t want to get in trouble.”

With those words, the guy had already begun to remove all of the psychic energy items from his body, and Torn Meat had no choice but to do as he was told.

But the old jackal’s already induced curiosity obviously wasn’t so easily satisfied as it stared at the strangely shaped gate in front of it that was made entirely of strange steel and said:

“So the Civilization Slate… if it really is as amazing as you say, then where exactly did it come from? You’ve been talking about the mysteries of the pre-Age, and I’m guessing that these tablets aren’t the creations of mortals either?”

“Well, the Creator.”

The psychic took off his pants and wore only his boxer shorts, and removed the decorative rings from his ankles and tossed them aside, not caring about his poor grooming at the moment as he held the oddly shaped “metal staff” in his hand and said:
“As with all miraculous creations, all civilization tablets come from the Creator, of course, in this continent, the majesty of the gods has replaced the legend of the Creator, only in the origin of the land of the Sangha population you can hear those poems of praise to the Creator.

From this point of view alone, it makes sense that the self-proclaimed ‘People of the Creator’ of the Sangha look down on the barbarians of the continent; our side of the world has forgotten true greatness and has turned to worshiping some astral spiritual beings with empty power and hypocrisy.

That’s a real shame.”

“But… but does the Creator really exist?”

Torn Flesh also took off its robes, revealing the shriveled torso as it whispered:

“I always thought that was just a legend.”

“Then congratulations, you have stepped into the legend! The ground you stand on is something shaped by the Creator himself, feel honored, Lord Torn Flesh, you are about to step into the halls of the Creator. That is a power that no random being can ever possess.”

The psychic grinned and stepped through the doors in front of him with his head held high.

As Torn Flesh watched he stood in the middle of the gate with his arms wide open, letting the blue light that shimmered from around the doorframe sweep over his body, and finally an odd voice rang out speaking a language that Torn Flesh couldn’t even understand.

It was like some kind of wonderful “testing” process, and with a soft thud, the closed metal door in front of him slowly opened, and a bright, but not blinding light shone out from it, causing the flesh to squint in surprise, and through the cracks in its fingers it could see that it was a very clean and wonderful place.

There were no gas lamps to illuminate it. But those light bands hidden in the simple architectural style provided a stable and warm light source, there were not many things in this hall and not much decoration, so it could be said that there were “four walls”, but that kind of extreme simplicity but rich in “futuristic” design made this place full of a kind of “future style” that Jackal couldn’t even imagine. However, the minimalist but futuristic design of the hall gave it a sense of high class that the jackals couldn’t understand.

It immediately realized that the psychic master hadn’t been bragging, and that this was indeed the “land of the Creator”.

“Come in, what are you doing there? Ninkinanka’s banishment time is almost up!”

The psychic clad only in boxers and a hood called out from the other side:

“Hurry up and take the remains of the King of Biting Bones with you and leave, don’t interfere with my continued work here, I had a hard time securing this job from Lord Gen.”

“Ow.”

Torn Flesh rushed forward as did the dirt bag, following that psychic’s stance and standing in the gate with its arms open, blue beams of light shot out from around its head, sweeping across its torso causing Torn Flesh to feel a slight discomfort.

The sharp senses of a psionicist made it feel like it was being analyzed by these beams of light, it couldn’t understand how this thing worked, but it could probably guess that it was a kind of strange “detection technique”.

“Biological template code D-04, Silver individual, Threat: low! Initial entry to the Visitor’s Hall will be given the status of ‘Temporary Visitor’. Please abide by the rules and regulations of the Exhibition Hall, and please do not visit areas other than the Visitors’ Hall.”

A light voice rang in Torn Flesh’s ears.

It didn’t understand the language, but it strangely understood its meaning, which was obviously a message that transcended language and words, directly “copying” the content into the jackal’s mind.

This made Torn Flesh feel the “greatness of the Creator” once again.

It stepped onto the land of the Creator with an attitude of curiosity and exploration, but when it saw that its own footprints had left an unsightly mud stain on the polished ground, an unexplained shame even rose in the heart of Torn Flesh.

It felt that it had “desecrated” this sacred place.

However, a rounded and marvelous box soon floated over and not only cleaned off the mud stain, but also circled around Torn Flesh, spraying out a strange mist of water to clean the dirt from its body.

“Ha, the Creator’s little pet, amazing, isn’t it?”

The psychic with the metal staff said bitchily to Torn Meat:

“These little things are found in every Creator’s land, they are some sort of pre-programmed psionic item that cleans up the garbage. I’ve tried to take apart a couple of broken ones, but I couldn’t even find the seam where it was assembled.

I’ll bet even if I had the best mechanic from the University of Craftsmen in Chardo come over here, he’d have nowhere to start.”

“It is the stuff of the gods, and mortals may not touch it nor understand that it is as it should be.”

Torn Flesh grunted.

It did not feel surprised by this.

In its worldview, even a roll of toilet paper next to a true deity was not a “holy thing” that a mortal should touch.

This ramrod straight answer made the psychic lose interest in continuing to communicate with this guy, and he bristled, pointing to the row of seats leading to the core of the visitor’s living room, and said:
“Go on, your king is there.”

Torn Flesh heard this and immediately stepped forward, it went around the seats and saw a skeleton sitting on the first row of chairs, it was none other than the Jackal’s skeleton, which had been dead for a long time but hadn’t weathered or turned into a skeleton, it merely took on the appearance of a dry corpse.

It is also and tearing meat and psychic masters like to take off the body armor and weapons, only wearing a single clothing here, apparently, the king of the bone bite also know to enter the creation of the “rules”.

Torn Flesh looked at the skeleton in front of him with mixed feelings.

In fact, like other jackals, it believed in its heart that the King of Bones was not dead, but was just hiding and licking his wounds, waiting to rise again.

However, the cruel fact in front of him told him that the King of Bites had died long ago!

As an excellent necromancer, Torn Flesh could even tell that the time of the death of the King of Bones had already exceeded a hundred years, that is to say, the king of the jackals in the fourth black plague has not yet really ended when he was already dead.

But soon, Torn Flesh noticed a problem.

It frowned at the dried corpse of the King of Biting Bones on the seat in front of it, and it said:

“Why is my king in such a strange stance? This isn’t some kind of Jackal ritual…”

“It was a prayer.”

The psychic walked over to the torn flesh and whispered:
“Your king was praying alone in this place of creation before he died, no one knows what it was praying for anymore, but if I had to say, I’d guess it had something to do with a series of mesmerizing operations it performed at the end of its life.

But what I can say for sure is that the King of Biting Bones is not a believer in the Lord of the Hunt, as you have seen with your own eyes, the only thing it truly believes in is the greatness of the Creator, which is why it is unable to become a fellow traveler of ours.

It is said that when it was defeated, it asked for help from our newly established organization, ah, I wasn’t even born then, I only heard about it from hearsay, and it is said that our leader rejected it mercilessly.

It seems that in desperation the King of Biting Bones eventually returned the power and glory he had taken from the Creator, tsk, tsk, if it hadn’t been a jackal, just the act itself would have been enough to call it ‘sincere’ .
Go.

Take it away.

For the dead who have left a trace of their mark in history like this, returning to their roots is considered a decent thing to do.”

“But the secret stash…the tablet of our civilization!”

Torn Flesh looked toward the passageway directly in front of the King of Bitten Bones.

Although he had only heard the term “civilization tablet” for the first time today, it still gave him the urge to step into it, but the hideous silhouettes of the steel guards looming in the darkness deterred him.

This was the Creator’s sanctuary!

Everything here was beyond its imagination as a jackal psionic warlock, and if the King of Biting Bones had to wait here in such humility, then Torn Flesh couldn’t be allowed to run wild here either.

“The King of Biting Bones’ secret stash is in the core.”

The psychic whispered:

“Pray, if I fulfill my mission successfully, I will bring it back to you. Collecting the Civilization Tablet is a high priority in Dusk’s plans, and we would be happy to see it returned to those who need it.

We’ll teach you how to use it properly, but of course you’ll have to take an oath to abandon this boring and wrong world first.

However, if I may offer you a suggestion, you may want to look for the Bone Biter’s belongings in the swamps outside the exhibition area after you leave.

As you can see.

He didn’t leave his armor and weapons and belongings outside the gates, so I’m guessing this guy had those properly hidden before he came in.

Once you find those things, perhaps you can figure out what your king was thinking and planning at the end of his life, but even just this skeleton itself is enough to get you back to the Dark Mountains to turn in.

You will be seen as a hero of the Jackals.

Don’t forget what you promised me before, Lord Torn Flesh.”

“Uh-huh.”

The Jackal Warlock nodded.

With a gesture of immense respect, it loaded the corpse of the King of Biting Bones into a special shrouded pouch, and before carrying the king’s remains away, Torn Flesh turned back to ask:

“I haven’t asked for your name yet, Your Excellency, I can sense that the exploration of the unknown in your heart clearly outweighs your loyalty to Dusk’s greatness… so I think we can actually continue to work together afterward… can you tell me your name? A codename would be fine.”

“You can just call me ‘Explorer’.”

The man said as he waved his hand in farewell:

“As you say, I didn’t join the Twilight for any great cause, and I have little passion for destruction, but simply out of a desire and quest for the unknown and the truth of the world; I can’t bear the thought of a great mystery being ignored by all, and for that reason I’d rather abandon my conscience and my humanity.

I’m not a good person, really.

Stay away from me.

Good luck on your way back to the city, Your Excellency, and don’t mess with that giant swamp serpent returning from the Astral Plane, it’s got a belly full of fire built up right now.”

(End of chapter)