Damn, croak!

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Good news: the Eternal Night Church has invaded the Sanctuary of the Clear Ones, but the teleportation array is still functioning normally. The “Veil of Reality” guild has successfully reached the sanctuary’s basement level.

Bad news: due to damage inflicted by the Eternal Night Church, the teleportation coordinates have been thrown off. Instead of arriving in the main hall, they fell into a steam-filled public bath.

“Wow, I almost became the king of falls,” the jailer brother exclaimed as he splashed out of the pool, gasping for air. “Is this really an underground space? The ceiling of this bath is at least five meters above the floor!”

The world went dark for a moment during teleportation; when their eyes opened, mist swirled around them, and before they could react, they sank like dumplings into the bath.

After climbing out, Potato Chips scanned the surroundings.

The polished marble tiles gleamed with two hues—moon-white and dazzling gold—laid beneath a dome where lighting crystals cast a warm yellow glow like a delicate veil. The wet floor reflected the radiant light vividly.

In the dreamy, enchanting light, the shallow bas-reliefs of birds and flowers on the distant walls seemed to dance with the rising mist.

It felt like a dream recalling ancient Rome.

“You’d better study the map Arna provided carefully. The first floor is called the ‘Dust-cleansing Level,’ the smallest of the twelve floors in the sanctuary,” Jiang Heyi said, wiping water droplets from his face before continuing, “The entire Clear Ones’ Sanctuary is pyramid-shaped. We’re at the very tip now, and as you go down each floor, the area grows even more astonishing.”

“No wonder the Eternal Night Church broke in. What a spectacle, a disaster for the nation,” Zhong Zemo joked, sniffing his damp hand. “This pool smells like citrus… actually, quite refreshing.”

“It really does,” the jailer brother agreed, sniffing intently.

“Probably some kind of plant extract, an aromatherapy the Clear Ones use to cleanse the dust from their bodies,” Zhong Zemo speculated.

The jailer snapped his fingers. “Well, it’s a kind of flavored orange tea, isn’t it?”

“Let’s take a look at these things first,” Potato Chips said.

Approaching her, the group saw violent signs hidden beneath the mist and opulence.

Cracked floor tiles from impact, dents in the corners stained with what looked like blood, fresh crimson not yet faded, and terrifying claw marks on the wall screen at the bath’s entrance.

Every detail spoke of a sudden, brutal attack.

The Dust-cleansing Level is divided into three main areas: the baths, the prayer hall, and the Receiving Sanctuary. It primarily serves as a place for members of the Clear Ones to cleanse their bodies and minds before venturing out or returning.

It’s unclear why the sanctuary’s original designers didn’t prioritize security on the first floor. Regardless, the victims here were those resting and relaxing, washing away their dust.

The invasion was unannounced and murderous—most of the Clear Ones here, caught off guard in a state of rest, likely did not survive.

Exiting the warm bath, passing by the hot and cold pools, they were about to enter the main hall designed for receiving arrivals.

Signs of destruction by the Eternal Night Church were everywhere: shattered walls, damaged statues, burning ornamental plants...

But there were no bodies. Not a single one.

Potato Chips stopped, pointed at the center of a crack on the marble wall, and gently twisted her finger.

Everyone noticed her fingertip stained with red, deepening their confusion.

A fierce battle or massacre must have occurred here, but where had the bodies gone?

In other games, they might think it’s an optimization to avoid clutter, or the designers simply overlooked the detail.

But this was “Proof of the Stars,” a game they knew to boast terrifying technological prowess and meticulous detail.

“A large-scale invasion, killing everyone, then disposing of the bodies—I can understand that. But cleaning up the blood stains too? So effortlessly?” Potato Chips questioned aloud, her voice filled with disbelief.

Only when immersed in the game did Potato Chips become this talkative.

“It feels too quiet,” Orange Tea muttered softly, uneasy at the absence of enemies.

Zhong Zemo, shielding the front, paused, instinctively replying, “No Eternal Night Church members on this floor either. It’s very different from what I imagined.”

“Yeah, probably they concentrated all their forces deeper in the sanctuary.”

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Jiang Heyi rubbed his forehead. Are you sure you want to start chanting here? Feels like a black luxury car could pull up any moment and a few assassins jump out...

“Clang!”

The sound of stainless steel hitting the ground echoed sharply in the quiet space. Instantly, everyone from the Veil of Reality guild readied for battle.

After a long silence, the jailer brother let out a breath, thinking it was a false alarm. Just as he was about to speak, a rustling noise sounded again from afar.

It sounded like someone dragging something across the marble floor, a harsh scraping sound cutting through the stillness.

“Unknown revelation,” Orange Tea whispered, immediately starting to pray. But this time, when she looked up, her face was filled with shock.

“Dead…”

“Dead? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The voice only said…” Orange Tea’s eyes widened as her hand slowly pointed forward.

At the glowing end of the main hall corridor, a figure abruptly appeared.

Upon seeing him, everyone instantly understood the meaning of the revelation.

A young Clear One, dressed in a silver-gray uniform embroidered with golden threads, stood there bloodied.

His body covered in bite marks and gnawing wounds, flesh turned inside out, and bones exposed.

Like Sister Arna, he had lost his eyes, ears, and index finger. Now he staggered forward dragging a leg reduced to bare bone with only bits of rotting flesh still clinging on.

No wind stirred, yet strange wind chimes sounded all around.

Like a flute awakening a pack of beasts, a dense sound of footsteps began to gather.

Orange Tea swallowed nervously.

Soon, the corridor’s end was packed with “people.”

“Now you know where the bodies went,” Jiang Heyi said.

Potato Chips guessed, “Necromancers must be behind this—they’ve all been transformed.”

Everyone recalled the curses and restrictions placed on Arna earlier. Was this a hint from the start?

“I have experience fighting zombies—headshots, spinal destruction works,” the jailer brother said confidently. “They move so slowly, just sitting ducks. Let fire and purification—”

His voice cut off abruptly as the transformed Clear Ones suddenly shifted from stillness to terrifying bursts of speed, sprinting like hundred-meter dash athletes.

Their pale, skeletal thighs shattered under the force, scattering fragments everywhere.

These dead things were squeezing the last bit of value from their soulless shells.

“Didn’t you say fire purifies everything? Why did you cast a wind blessing to speed them up?” Potato Chips asked as she pointed her long sword to the ground, then arced the fiery blade in a crescent moon shape through the air.

Where the blade passed, flesh and bone split cleanly.

Let the dead return to deeper death.

Let the departed rest in peace.

Potato Chips flipped her left hand; a dagger suddenly appeared.

With a long sword in her right and a dagger in her left, she slowly lowered her center of gravity, the blade poised like a natural barrier before the approaching horde.

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“Don’t attack, just shield up,” she ordered.

“I was planning to—”

“Purify everything!”

Under Orange Tea’s astonished gaze, Potato Chips charged headlong into the oncoming tide of undead.

Jiang Heyi stepped past Zhong Zemo’s large shield, following closely behind.

The arcs of their blades perfectly sealed off the corridor. As for the aberrations...

Massive fireballs exploded above the two of them, showering sparks like rain, the blast wave nearly knocking them over.

Both Jiang Heyi and Potato Chips suffered ringing ears. The shattered roars of the horde were stretched to an unbearable length. They first felt a slight weightlessness, their bodies light as air, then a disorienting panic without any sense of direction.

This time, they didn’t criticize the jailer brother for reckless casting without considering teammates’ positions.

A corpse climbing the wall had just begun to fall freely, about to crash on Jiang Heyi’s unsuspecting head, but the jailer’s timely long-range magic support shattered the threat.

Seems other games are the same: joking around as pranksters, but never dropping the ball when it counts.

Jiang Heyi noticed that every time Potato Chips swung her blade, bright flames accompanied the enchanted sword. Her lips moved silently, as if murmuring some chant.

What was she whispering?

The necromantic corpses kept pouring in. Zhong Zemo, unable to help much, urged them to retreat and find better defensive terrain.

“How many people do you think were killed on this floor?” Jiang Heyi asked.

Potato Chips paused. Arna’s memory didn’t specify the usual number of active members in the sanctuary headquarters, but considering that the Clear Ones rarely bathe all at once...

Understanding Jiang Heyi’s implication, Potato Chips relaxed. She abandoned any restraint, swinging her blades with greater abandon.

Retreat? Defend?

No, slash them all down!

The corridor was narrow; the dead couldn’t press forward en masse. With the jailer brother blocking above, the two refused to fall back and instead plunged into the horde.

The clash of metal and bone rang unceasingly. The lifeless flesh scattered.

Stepping over fallen Clear Ones, they severed heads one by one with burning blades. Every swing granted peace to four or five corpses.

The supply was not endless; even necromancers need material to build their armies.

Exhausted and bloodied, the two stood panting amid the inert bodies. Not a single corpse remained capable of movement.

Orange Tea stared in disbelief as the corpses slowly dissipated, replaced by loot floating in bubbles midair.

Zhong Zemo exhaled slowly, glancing at the large shield that hadn’t been used the entire time, teasing, “Feels like I just took a ride in a trailer.”

The jailer brother wouldn’t let that comment slide.

He gathered himself, then shouted loudly with full force,

“Holy crap, ribbit!”