Famine 68: The Sacrificial Array

After a long moment, Si Zhiyan said,
“All right.”

He knew Nidhogg was studying him, but made no comment and instead raised another matter directly.

“I have a request.”
“When you obtain the remnants of the array, you are not to sacrifice any ordinary players.”

Nidhogg waved a hand. “Relax, relax. I won’t compete with you for the people you’ve saved.”

“No,” Si Zhiyan said calmly. “I mean—any. At all.”

Nidhogg went still.

He stretched lazily, his voice growing slowly colder, eyes filled with a mocking, half-smiling glint. “And if I insist?”

“Then our partnership ends here,” Si Zhiyan replied.

“……”

Whoosh!
The dragon’s wings unfurled, a violent wind howling.

Hovering above the ice field, Nidhogg’s vertical pupils narrowed to slits. The air itself grew hotter, sparks coiling in the rising heat.

“Why so obstinate?” he said slowly.

Danger!
Below, in the convenience store, every customer shopping for supplies suddenly felt their hair stand on end; some dropped limply to the ground, others instinctively drew their weapons. Within a hundred meters, every living being’s nerves were taut, trembling under the pressure of the evil dragon’s power.

Only Si Zhiyan met the beast’s gaze with perfect calm.

The atmosphere tensed dangerously, the air ready to ignite at a spark.

The dragon’s gaze bored into him, his voice shuddering with a threat of death.

“If the price is too high, I can’t agree. I can bring you many things—surely something you want. I promise not to kill anyone who finds the farm. Isn’t that enough?”

“No,” Si Zhiyan replied.

“Even if I don’t kill, how long can these players survive in the Famine game? Aren’t they like insects, always coming and going, living and dying in swarms? Boss, is it really worth meddling in such petty matters for a handful of bugs?”

“Give me a reason.”

Patiently, Si Zhiyan answered, “I don’t like it.”

Nidhogg leaned forward, beast-like pupils narrowing, fixing him with a deadly stare.

Si Zhiyan met his gaze, unflinching.

Nidhogg was worth far more than a few hundred ordinary players.

But… Si Zhiyan simply didn’t like it.

He had already seen, through Bian Xu’s encouragement, the burning luster of souls. They called him “Sir”—called him a god. Si Zhiyan had grown used to seeing one player after another arriving joyfully at the farm’s shelter, loving sincerely, struggling hard to live.

What he disliked was seeing those people fall in droves, blood-soaked and slaughtered like livestock.

Even if that was normality for this world of famine.

There was no need to discuss gain or loss. He didn’t like it; that was all.

Every person is allowed some harmless preferences—an insignificant fondness or aversion.

A long moment passed.

“Pff…hahahaha!”

Nidhogg threw back his head in laughter.

In that instant, the rising temperature vanished. Tension in the air melted away, sparks snuffed out by a current of ease.

“All right… all right, fine, have it your way.”

Nidhogg reverted to his lazy posture, spread his wings with a laugh, and drifted back away from Si Zhiyan.

“Fine, I promise. Once I obtain the ritual array, I won’t sacrifice a single innocent player.”

“That’s sufficient, yes?”

Si Zhiyan raised his coffee cup. “Pleasure doing business.”

“You really…” Nidhogg pinched the bridge of his nose with a sly, pained smile.
“I’m starting to like you, boss.”

“The honor is mine,” Si Zhiyan replied serenely.

[Mist World – Day 8 / 08:00 AM / Before the Icefield Hot Springs / Current Farm Integrity: 51%]
[Seven days remain until the Eye of the Supreme God arrives]

Time swept swiftly on.

With the research team’s assistance, results came quickly.
Once again, Si Zhiyan stood before the hot springs on the icefield, facing the members of the Spring Grass Mercenary Company and Liang Qingshuang.

This time, he brought Zhong Yanqing along.

The Mercenary Company stood within the array, anxiously waiting.

“This ritual has surprising similarities to traditional Japanese shrine magic,” Zhong Yanqing said.

“If not for your help tracing all the fragments of the monument in the springs, we never would have understood their written symbols.
The world’s script closely resembles standard Japanese, so a great deal can be read directly—an immense advantage.”

She held up a thick sheaf of notes, sharing her days of deductions.
Of course, no one present could hope to understand but her.

“You see, the array itself isn’t inherently malicious.”

“The runic script is grand and upright; in the midst, formal honorifics abound. It’s most likely a sacrificial array for some god or divine phenomenon.”

“This god, or whatever it is… let’s give it a proper translation…”

“I’ll call it ‘Heaven’s Vein.’”

“The natives seemed to revere all acts of worship involving the Heaven’s Vein, treating every ritual with utmost seriousness.”

“But the array was later stolen by humans; after the thief died, the roots reactivated—and now, you are the Heaven’s Vein’s sacrifices.”

“To avoid enraging Heaven’s Vein, once the ritual begins, it cannot be halted.
The sacrifice takes five days. Afterward, all living beings within the array have their lives siphoned out, reduced to piles of bones—soul and body erased, never to be reborn.”

“This is an irreversible process.”

“To break through from the outside…”

Halfway through, Liang Qingshuang’s face blanched white.
Her fingernails dug deep into her palm. “So, there’s truly… no way out?”

“But wait.”
Zhong Yanqing suddenly shifted course.
“This civilization’s reverence for Heaven’s Vein also implies that, when things go as intended, sacrifices are voluntary—even proud of it.”

“And that means, internally, there aren’t many restrictions!”

“As long as you can find the array’s core and remove it from the inside, you’re free.”

Liang Qingshuang brightened instantly.
“Yes, yes!”

Gao Zhai asked, “What’s the core? Have you found it?”

“Of course I have, hmph. Who do you think I am?”
Zhong Yanqing put her hands on her hips, then hesitated.

“Just… the core has a rather odd name.”

Si Zhiyan, suddenly alert, turned. “What is it?”

Zhong Yanqing answered slowly, “Translated into our language, it’s… [Terrain Bait – Hot Spring].”

……

Si Zhiyan slowly raised his head.

Huh.

He was long practiced in masking his emotions. Now, he suppressed his joy beneath a placid surface.

So here it was!
Exploring the Mist World couldn’t be rushed. With only a week and the lava expedition’s uncertain returns, solving the terrain bait problem had weighed on Si Zhiyan’s mind for quite some time.

Zhong Yanqing pressed on, “According to my calculations, the core should be at the Qian Yuan sector of the array—in earthly terms, that’s the northwest, about three-quarters of the way to the array’s center.”

“So, have you noticed anything unusual there these past few days?”

As soon as she spoke, the mercenaries’ expressions changed.
They looked at each other in growing hesitation.

Si Zhiyan said softly, “There’s something there.”
His voice brimmed with certainty.

Gao Zhai said awkwardly, “Yes, perhaps there is something, but…”
“The thing is, we can’t reach it.”

“Because, in the entire northwest region of the blood ritual, there’s a deep hot spring of extreme temperature. The pool is hundreds of meters across—boiling, scalding. Get even close, your skin blisters and peels.”

Liang Qingshuang snapped, “And now’s the time to fear a little heat? Tiger can fly, can’t he? Put some armor on, let him go grab it!”

“Even hovering above, who else could do it but Tiger?” Gao Zhai sighed. “The problem is, the surface is a steaming cauldron—nothing on top, nothing at all.”

Liang Qingshuang went pale. “That means…”

Gao Zhai said, “The core can only be beneath the surface—down in the boiling pool!”

The group fell silent.

Under the seething, deadly water!

Just in these few exchanges, the wild swing between hope and despair nearly stunned Liang Qingshuang.
She stepped back, slumping helplessly against the rock wall.

How long could a person survive in boiling sulfur water?

For the mercenary company, with all their equipment stacked, five minutes at most.
Any longer, they’d become soup.

Suddenly, Gao Zhai grinned.
“What’s with that face, Sister Liang?”

He straightened his collar and looked up, gaze unshakable.

“So what? A living man can’t be drowned in his own piss.
The Spring Grass Mercenaries won’t be stopped by a pool of hot water!”

“I’ll go first. I’ll check the water up to three meters from shore. If I don’t come back, then there’s nothing within three meters. After that, the next steps follow.”

“Who’s next?”

“Me!” a scarred mercenary volunteered, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve had nothing better to do lately than soak in every spring in this cave—save this one! Might as well round out the set.”

Another said, “Anyone good in water, gather around. We’ll draw lots for the third run.”

At the back, a brawny, bright-eyed mercenary laughed, “If we three can’t get it, then it must be dead center. That’s my turn—I’m the only one who can fly. The crucial fourth run—don’t even try to steal my thunder!”

“Tiger’s showing off again!” came the chorus of good-natured jeers.

Gao Zhai laughed, “Chai, fry up that lamb—you promised cumin lamb yesterday and I haven’t seen it yet! Lazy! Before I go in, I demand a proper meal!”

Chai cursed, “All right, all right, I’m cooking! Hold your horses!”

In just a few breaths, the mercenaries were smiling, laughter brightening the gloomy cave.

The way forward was clear—there was no need to hesitate.
Gao Zhai, Tiger, every one of them was happy for the hope that lay ahead. In their jovial banter, they’d established their order for this dangerous task.

In moments of life and death, these mercenaries spoke of it with startling generosity and ease—just as the others had joked when they’d sent him on ahead:
Sister Liang, live on! So long as you’re alive, that’s enough! If you have time, remember to avenge us someday.

Liang Qingshuang watched them, pride and sorrow warping her features.

“No need.”

A calm voice interrupted.

Everyone turned to see Si Zhiyan adjusting the sapphire cufflinks on his sleeves, stepping forward.

—He stepped directly into the blood ritual array!

Hum! The blood formation reacted, sealing off any retreat.

Everyone present froze, stunned.

“No need for all this trouble. If it’s under boiling water, I’ll handle it.”

Si Zhiyan nodded politely, gestured coolly to Gao Zhai.

“Lead the way.”