AnalogHorror: Rule Kaidan 4016

"Like... like a debate match? Only elevated to a transcendent level?" Lin Yi's face looked peculiar.

Mao Feiyang nodded: "To some extent, yes."

"This is getting more ridiculous..." Lin Yi wiped his sweat, feeling conflicted, "I feel like the more I understand the campus, the less I understand it…"

"So... should we just ignore them?"

"Ignore them, and we can't do anything about it anyway." Tian Bufan took over the conversation, "Stick to the old plan, head straight to the Observatory. Knock down whoever blocks our way, but don't hit too hard... If we go too far, the Night Watchman will sense our presence."

"Got it." Lin Yi responded seriously.

"You don't get it, Old Lin." Mao Feiyang interrupted with a mischievous tone, "I'll make the move, you two back me up, and if I can't handle it, then I'll switch you in."

"Alright, alright." Lin Yi replied impatiently. Sometimes he really wanted to punch Maozi; he was so annoying!

Back when he saw things from Maozi's perspective, it didn't seem like much, but now as an observer, he wondered how good Mu Daxian's temper must be to tolerate Maozi's cheeky ways.

While they were talking, Mao Feiyang's body kept moving forward.

As they moved further, the stone pillars in the corridor became increasingly damaged, with many secret pattern symbols carved on them flaking off. The remaining parts emitted an increasingly desecrated and contaminated aura.

The niches between the pillars contained more abstract broken sculptures, and one might think the "Original Apostles" who built the Black Moon Outpost had carved mythical creatures from the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

Moist air accompanied by a salty, fishy sea scent slowly seeped in, as if the corridor's end led not to a vast Observatory, but a muddy cesspool filled with rotten fish and shrimp.

The whole environment became much more deteriorated, but one thing that hadn't changed much was the presence of numerous candlesticks on the stone pillars.

Pale mist seeped into the corridor, layer upon layer, creating ghost-like illusions that slowly approached Mao Feiyang.

The appearance of mist also caused the broken sculptures in the surrounding niches to be enveloped in smoke, presenting an absurd and eerie feeling of distortion and writhing, as if they were coming back to life.

Walking through it felt increasingly like entering the Xiao Lei Yin Temple.

Lin Yi suddenly remembered something and spoke up: "Come to think of it, I haven't seen those broken sculptures for a long time…"

Those sculptures suspended from the ceiling in chains, calling out [Lin Yi, Lin Yi…].

"Isn't it nice to have some peace?" Tian Bufan said, paused, then added, "You miss them that much, maybe they'll come looking for you soon."

Mao Feiyang chuckled mischievously: "As they say, 'What you constantly think about eventually echoes back'. Old Lin, you sure know how to bring up the wrong subject."

"Oh, come on! You two just love to poke fun at me! Can't you say something nice?" Lin Yi said helplessly.

"What made you think of them? Was it these broken sculptures full of mythological and supernatural aura?" Tian Bufan asked.

Lin Yi affirmed: "Absolutely! I haven't seen so many broken sculptures since I entered school, and in such bizarre shapes."

Tian Bufan said: "Just ahead is the Observatory. These diverse forms might not be random fabrications; they could very well be real images of mysterious creatures hidden in some layers' crevices."

"Maybe it's the 'Astrologer' who depicted the appearances of the odd creatures observed, then others sculpted them and imbued them with some powers?"

"Actually, if you think about it, those forms frequently appeared in some mysterious civilizations later on, didn't they?"

"For example, the 'Feathered Serpent God' in the Maya civilization, also in Aztec civilization; the image of the world serpent 'Ymir' in Norse mythology; the image of the Sun God 'la' in Ancient Egyptian civilization, and the image of 'Xiang Liu' in Huaxia mythology…"

"Additionally, some of the sculptures are of Ancient Babylon's Winged Lion, Huaxia's Qilin, and the Nine Sons of the Dragon…"

"Have you ever thought that these images might be like a star matrix, imprinted in the corridor's space, having a powerful effect over countless years on the map level?"

"The reason we can traverse here is because we walk through 'reality'. If not moving through 'reality', we might encounter their attacks on the map level, meeting doom instantly?"

Lin Yi fell silent.

Tian Bufan's words were spot on. Many things that provide great convenience in reality can be deadly on the map level.

Since the day he experienced the extreme cold in the Gymnasium pool, his cognition was exceptionally clear!

While Lin Yi was pondering internally, Tian Bufan's voice suddenly rang out: "Almost there, Maozi."

"Here we go~ ready to rumble~" Mao Feiyang said cheerily, grabbing the edge of his drawing board, as if about to draw out a gigantic sword.

Indeed, he pulled out a huge sword.

When he drew the board, countless machine-like transformations happened in an instant, a door-sized elongated drawing board—a large sword—was held in his hand.

His frame was thin and dark, wielding such a large sword truly gave off a mismatched impression of a circus monkey carrying a slab as he traveled.

In fact, Lin Yi thought this equipment might be more suitable for Wei Shan.

For Maozi's physique, this weapon was definitely not a perfect fit...

A few steps later, the view in front of the corridor opened wide, and another hall that Lin Yi had not seen before suddenly appeared in his vision.

It was a hall very similar to the Art Building Hall, but the classical decorations within had become quite worn out. The ceiling featured an unusual motif pieced together from large glass fragments, reminiscent of religious frescoes commonly found in Ancient European Church halls.

In this old and decayed hall, only the motif on the ceiling remained new. It depicted an eerie god creating the world, holding a light source in both hands; its rays shot out like cone-shaped needlepoints in all directions, much like the sun on tarot cards.

Among the rays were various lines, embodying goodness and evil, sanctity and defilement, redemption and punishment; the divine image at the motif's center evoked the taste of the Sun and Ashen Apostle, rich in a cult-like flavor.

Under the hall's dome, veteran Art Students had already set up their drawing boards, holding onto the easels, each watching the opposite side with grave expressions.

Opposite them were the distinct Zealot faction, led by Zealot leaders whose green robes from the Art Students had become tattered.

The two groups stared across the void, and amidst them, a twisted film-like overlay appeared, as if countless films were overlapped and projected together.

The two forces wrestled and clashed across the void. Twisted air sometimes exploded with traces of flame matrices, then condensed into phantom snow-capped peaks. Occasionally, the images piled up so much they distorted, collapsing into a mosaic of ashes…

It was reminiscent of the feeling you'd get from several special ability folks in God of Gamblers on the Shanghai Bund exerting power together, destabilizing space.