Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1851: Chapter 1846: Artifact Seedbed (Part 1)

Is it really this fitting?

Just before, I was lamenting missing the chance to step into that deep sea-like darkness.

And now, I’ve been assigned a task that sends me to the undersea prison?

Although the task introduction didn’t provide much information, not even my identity.

But knowing the warehouse’s usual style, since it mentioned a prison, it’s highly unlikely they’d let me sit comfortably on the shore watching the sea—in fact.

As I was grumbling in my heart, my senses quickly returned.

Raising my eyes, I saw nothing but darkness, visibility even less than nine millimeters.

Indeed, the main reason for such a blocked view is not just the lack of light, but also an additional obstacle.

Fu Qian confirmed that his head was now firmly encased in a heavy, rounded metal object.

At a glance, it looked somewhat like an unusually shaped helmet.

Especially as he could clearly feel the front and back of his chest were also tightly strapped with equally heavy "armor."

The problem was that this helmet had not a single opening to see out from, and it even seemed to have an effect of isolating perception.

Perhaps it wasn’t so apparent to him now, but without specialized perception skills, a middle-tier player wearing this would likely bump into walls easily.

Additionally, the neck felt thorny strands like thorns.

Incredibly sharp, by no means ordinary, a slight slip could pierce the flesh.

Both in effect and reinforcement, it seemed excessively self-destructive.

Considering the given task description, aside from prisoners’ special treatment, there really seems to be no other explanation.

No wonder when Ben and the others were exploring the Sea of Ashes by boat, they were so cautious.

Not only avoiding the Night Watchman but also dodging the Siren.

Even if not killed offhand, getting caught and sent to experience this place would undoubtedly be unpleasant.

But one must always think positively; at least there’s a switch on the helmet that can be moved.

Screech—

Amid an ear-splitting friction sound, Fu Qian nudged the switch near his mouth to the side, revealing a rectangular opening.

You see, at least they still provide food.

...

The fact that a hole was left there is clearly for eating.

Though from the current understanding, the Night Watchman doesn’t meddle much in conflicts among Transcendents.

Especially among these large groups, as if they don’t mind if they beat each other to a bloody pulp.

Yet the Siren’s way of manifesting its renown still primarily revolves around mental torment.

Why it chooses this method is not hard to understand.

The times have changed; unlike the faith groups of the Mythic Era, now everyone’s a businessperson.

Profit is paramount, without any exaggerated ideological conflict boundaries; doing things too thoroughly would only ruin reputations.

There are so many competitors, don’t forget talents are mobile.

Being an enormous entity is one thing, but are you really prepared to unify the Supernatural Realm?

Not to mention that the Night Watchman who defines the fundamental rules is standing there, even in the current supernatural community, most are still independent operators.

The organizational advantage of such groups is never in absolute resource monopoly but rather in maintaining a stable inflow-outgrowth mechanism.

It’s a pity that now is clearly not meal time, no chance to taste and see if the flavor mainly consists of seafood.

"You are too noisy."

Besides, human joys and sorrows don’t really communicate with each other.

Just as Fu Qian was sighing, an emotionless voice came from the opposite side, sounding rather muffled due to the helmet’s barrier.

Contrary to the siren’s solitary confinement culture, it turns out I had a roommate.

...

The voice was as still as a stagnant well, expressing outright aversion, with just one simple sentence instantly revealing a sense of disparity.

His behavior of uncovering his mouth before mealtime was not only immediately noticed due to the quiet surroundings, but it also seemed to have been construed as an effort to communicate, an impulse to break the solitude.

However, the other party not only didn’t welcome this act but also seemed to despise it, actively discouraging any further development.

This reaction, given the current circumstances, immediately suggested the idea of calamity turning into fortune, breaking down before rising up.

Under physical and mental constraints, this roommate instead achieved profound insight in adversity, transcending himself.

Normally, with such a spiritual elevation, the next step should be the breakthrough to Divine Skill or something similar.

Screech—

Amid admiration, Fu Qian indeed pulled the mechanism over his mouth back up, quietly breathing in the not-so-pleasant air, and continued pondering if he could somehow make it in time for the meal.

"...What were you trying to say just now?"

The silence didn’t last long; at some point, the voice continued from the opposite side.

The roommate seemed to have felt a twinge of mercy after his earlier cold remark, finally deciding to listen to this restless soul’s confession.

Of course, his goodwill was met with clear disappointment.

A full minute after those words, Fu Qian neither responded by uncovering his mouth nor refused verbally.

...

Watch his words and actions.

If one doesn’t fear solitude, why fear breaking it?

A truly enlightened player wouldn’t waver, even if I struck sparks by rubbing the metal plate over my mouth forcibly just now.

In terms of cultivation, this roommate is still far from achieving that level.

The immediate response to my actions wasn’t a high-level demonstration; in essence, it was a desperate attempt to prevent his mental defenses from breaking down.

As for now, it seems he’s already been breached.

"...No need to be afraid; this place is just like that."

For instance, when no response came, the silence was soon broken again.

"When you first arrive, you will fear, loathe, and desperately want to shed these restraints, but over time, you’ll find they support you... because having chains is the only reason you can walk so freely."

His words almost conveyed a sense of amusement, sharing insights on a prisoner’s life, and sounding somewhat philosophical.

And the chains he mentioned were not even a metaphor.

Fu Qian knew clearly that a hefty metal chain was attached to the back of his armor, evidently limiting his range of movement.

Still, he remained silent.

"I can no longer remember how long I’ve been here... but the process of this transformation is still incredibly vivid.

"Trust me; I can tell you precisely how far you are, so don’t worry, just express what you want to say."

Practically to the point of earnest guidance, the roommate’s tone even grew more humane, almost fiery, due to this benevolent mindset.

"So, are you mute—"

"You are too noisy."

Fu Qian instantly interrupted his unseemly exhibition, fully replicating the opponent’s initial line.