Chapter 475 - 447: Rock Core Block

Chapter 475: Chapter 447: Rock Core Block

The statue stood majestically, a stark and incongruous sight in the center of the dilapidated square.

Carved entirely from some kind of dense, pale stone, it had endured a millennium of wind and rain. Miraculously, its main body remained remarkably intact, a sharp contrast to the crumbling buildings around it.

The sculpture depicted an incredibly tall and burly man.

He stood with his head held high and chest puffed out. His torso was broad, the lines of his muscles sculpted with an incredible sense of power, as if every sinew contained explosive energy. The statue radiated an indescribable, rock-solid aura of tenacity, a testament to the masterful, lifelike skill of its long-dead carver.

However, this statue, which should have been brimming with power and majesty, was now regrettably incomplete.

Its head was missing, leaving only a rough, fractured surface at the neck.

Both arms had also been completely destroyed at the shoulders, making its posture both tragic and bizarre—like a headless, armless Venus de Milo.

’Is it... some unknown deity?’

As Roland focused on the peculiar statue, the immense shadow of the Shell Ship and the low rumble it emitted clearly startled certain beings within the ruins.

From among the broken walls below, a chaotic rustling and the sound of running footsteps suddenly erupted.

Immediately after, dozens, even hundreds of figures scrambled out in a panic from behind collapsed walls, from half-hidden underground entrances, and from the gaps in piles of rubble. They were like frightened gophers, quickly gathering and staring up at the uninvited guest in the sky.

These... "human" figures...

If you could still call them human.

Their condition was utterly wretched.

They were all dressed in rags, the tattered strips of cloth barely covering their bodies. Their exposed skin, from a long-term lack of nutrition and sunlight, had taken on an unhealthy, sallow yellow or ashen gray color.

Their faces were gaunt, their eye sockets sunken, and their ribs were clearly visible beneath their thin skin. Chronic starvation had carved indelible marks upon their bodies.

’There are... still humans alive here?’

Roland frowned, a strong sense of doubt welling up inside him.

This was completely unexpected.

Compared to Rusted Town, where they had briefly stopped and which had at least some strange vegetation, the environment around Sui Cang Hall was far harsher.

As far as the eye could see, it was a virtually lifeless wasteland. Many plots of land even showed signs of severe desertification, and not even moss could be found on the cracked earth.

’How on earth did these people survive in a place like this?’

To avoid further agitating these clearly suffering survivors and to minimize unnecessary conflict, Roland shook his head slightly and spoke to Duraga.

"Duraga, land the ship in the open area, far from Sui Cang Hall’s main entrance. Stay alert."

The Gray Dwarf leader nodded slightly at his words, and the Shell Ship slowly descended.

The heavy hull made a dull thud as it touched the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The moment the ship settled, the human survivors who had appeared earlier cautiously closed in from their cover on all sides, forming a loose but hostile circle.

They clutched crude weapons in their hands.

Long Spears made from sharpened stones tied to sticks, Stone Axes with jagged edges, or simply heavy chunks of bone and brick.

Their filthy faces were etched with vigilance, and their sunken eyes were fixed on the Shell Ship’s hatch.

Their gazes were a mixture of fear, despair...

...and the reckless madness that could erupt from being pushed to the brink.

Seeing this, Duraga’s eyes narrowed, a flash of cruelty and decisiveness crossing his rugged face.

He began to speak slowly, his voice low.

"Rudolph, by the looks of them, they clearly don’t have the food we’re looking for."

"Hunger and desperation have devoured their reason. They’re no different from dangerous beasts now. To avoid trouble, should we...?"

As he spoke, the Gray Dwarf leader raised a coarse hand and made a sharp slicing motion across his neck. The meaning was obvious.

"No, Duraga..."

Roland reached out, gently pushed down Duraga’s arm, which was still poised at his neck, and sighed.

It wasn’t that he harbored some pointless mercy. Having traveled this treacherous world for so long, he had already learned to discard naive sympathy.

However, to slaughter a group of emaciated human survivors who posed no real threat and held only crude stone tools...

Even with his current strength, he could finish the job in an instant, so fast that they wouldn’t feel a thing.

But something like that...

’I still can’t bring myself to cross that line.’

’This isn’t weakness. It’s a line I’ve drawn for myself.’

’If I start casually tossing aside even this bottom line...’

"Remember, Roland, when you master power that surpasses the mundane, you must be ever vigilant against its temptations."

"Wield your Power, don’t be wielded by it. Once you lose yourself in the convenience of Power, resorting to any means to achieve your ends, you will eventually become a pitiful, unrestrained beast that knows only destruction."

Graham’s calm and wise voice seemed to echo in his ears.

Roland shook his head, suppressing the tumultuous thoughts in his mind, and spoke softly to Duraga.

"They may not have food, but Sui Cang Hall might contain artifacts they don’t know how to use..."

"Let me try to negotiate first. If they’ve truly lost all reason and communication is impossible, it won’t be too late to take necessary measures then."

"Fine, fine..."

Duraga shrugged, grumbling in his gruff voice.

"You’re always so... indecisive."

However, despite his grumbling words, an almost imperceptible flicker of relief passed through the Gray Dwarf leader’s sunken eyes.

He muttered under his breath, as if to himself, but also for Roland to hear.

"Rudolph is Rudolph, after all. Even if you’ve lost your memories, that stubborn, almost mother-hennish streak you have about certain things hasn’t changed a bit..."

Without waiting for Roland’s reply, he turned and began calling to his kinsmen, giving quiet orders for the Warriors to remain on alert but not to make any rash moves.

Roland could only shake his head helplessly at Duraga’s teasing.

He composed himself and walked slowly toward the exit where the Shell Ship’s ramp had been lowered.

Before stepping out of the hatch’s shadow and into the full view of the survivors, he deliberately slowed his movements, raised his hands high, and showed his open palms to signal that he was unarmed.

Taking a deep breath of the cold, dusty air outside, Roland spoke to the hostile and fearful crowd below in the steadiest, clearest voice he could manage.

"Everyone... can you understand me? We are just passing through. We mean no harm."

Roland’s voice echoed over the silent ruins.

A moment later, a wave of suppressed, rustling whispers came from the crowd.

Perhaps seeing that Roland had indeed raised his hands and showed no obvious sign of aggression, the crazed vigilance in the emaciated humans’ eyes receded slightly, but their grip on their "weapons" did not loosen.

After a brief silence and standoff, the crowd parted slightly, and a figure slowly walked out.

It was a middle-aged man with a tall frame.

But chronic hunger had wasted him away to skin and bones. He was so gaunt that he looked like a reed swaying in the wind, his large frame making the loose, tattered clothes hanging on him look strangely out of place.

His face was covered in grime and deep wrinkles, but his eyes, though sunken, still held a glimmer of reason that set him apart from the others—a spark that had not yet been completely extinguished.

He sized up Roland and the Shell Ship behind him, whose style was so alien to this world. When he spoke, his voice was as hoarse and dry as sandpaper.

"You are... ’Veil Breakers’?"

Hearing this term, Roland recalled the attitude of the people in Rusted Town toward Veil Breakers and hesitated for a moment.

But considering the Shell Ship itself was impossible to hide, he slowly nodded.

"That’s right. My name is Roland. I’ve come here merely to acquire some necessary survival supplies, like food and fresh water."

"Hah..."

The words had barely left his mouth when a young man next to the middle-aged one—who looked like a scrawny monkey—couldn’t help but scoff, his tone dripping with hostility and sarcasm.

"No harm? The very fact that you ’Veil Breakers’ have set foot on our land is, to us, a blatant act of malice!"

"Quiet, Kane!"

The middle-aged man snapped without turning his head, his voice weak but carrying an undeniable authority.

The skinny young man called Kane resentfully shrank back, but his eyes were still full of hatred.

The middle-aged man turned his gaze back to Roland, a complex struggle flashing in his eyes. After a moment, as if he had made up his mind, he spoke slowly.

"Hello, Roland. My name is Hom... I’m the temporary administrator for these poor souls."

He paused, then continued with difficulty.

"Unfortunately, we don’t have the food and fresh water you need here. But... if you are willing to help us, we can provide something that meets your requirements..."

Roland was slightly taken aback by this, a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

"With all due respect, Hom, looking at your condition, I doubt you can provide anything else I might need."

"Rest assured, as I said before, we mean no harm. We just want to explore the depths of Sui Cang Hall. According to old records, there might still be..."

"That place doesn’t belong to us anymore..."

Hom suddenly cut Roland off, a deep sorrow and helplessness in his eyes.

"Besides, the depths... are full of danger."

He changed the subject, turning to the skinny Kane beside him.

"Kane, go get a ’Rock Core Block’."

Kane’s face clearly showed his reluctance. His lips moved as if he wanted to argue, but Hom cut him off with a stern glare and an even harsher gesture.

The skinny young man could only shut his mouth resentfully, shoot Roland a fierce glare, and quickly duck back into the crowd.

Before long, he returned and handed something to Roland.

Roland reached out and took it.

It was surprisingly heavy in his hand, far heavier than its size would suggest.

As for its appearance...

It was not any kind of known food he could imagine.

It was about the size of an adult man’s fist, with an extremely regular polyhedral structure. Its edges were sharp and its surface smooth. The material seemed like neither stone nor crystal, and it gave off a dim, almost subdued metallic luster.

Its color was a deep, dark gray, but from certain angles, one could faintly see extremely weak, dark red motes of light slowly circulating within, like the last embers inside a dormant volcano.

It was cold and hard to the touch. Rather than food, it was more like a precisely machined Energy Core or some unknown mineral specimen.

"Hm?"

After examining it closely for a moment, Roland slowly furrowed his brow.

Because from this... "mineral," he sensed a hint of familiarity.