Oh no! My grandmother made me shoulder the responsibility for eight households!

Chapter 403 A Transparent Mountain, a Bottomless Pit

Two figures streaked across the sky above Jubei City at an astonishing speed.

The people in the city looked up and saw two streaks of light, one gold and one white, heading north. They thought they were shooting stars, and some even made wishes on the spot.

On the ground, the farmland on both sides of the official road had been harvested and was bare, with only a few scarecrows standing alone.

Further north, farmland becomes increasingly scarce, while wasteland becomes increasingly abundant.

The weeds grew taller than a person, rustling in the wind as if something was hidden inside.

Zhao Zilong caught up with Lin Chen and flew alongside him, pointing to a mountain range in the distance:

"My lord, it's over there, that mountain. It wasn't there originally, but it appeared out of thin air half a month ago."

I have consulted all the maps and historical records, and there is absolutely no record of it.

Lin Chen looked in the direction Zhao Zilong was pointing.

There was indeed a mountain range in the distance, not high, but stretching for dozens of miles, like a lurking dragon.

The entire mountain was shrouded in a thin layer of mist, making it difficult to see clearly.

The fog wasn't ordinary white, but a grayish-white, as if mixed with bone ash, giving it an indescribable eeriness.

The two quickened their pace and soon arrived above the mountain.

As he got closer, Lin Chen could see clearly.

The mountain is transparent; it exists in a state between existence and non-existence.

You can see everything behind the mountain—the sky, the clouds, the horizon—clearly.

But when you reach out and touch it, it's solid and ice-cold.

It felt like touching a piece of ancient ice; the moment your fingertips touched it, a chill shot up your fingers and into your bones.

Lin Chen withdrew his hand and looked at his fingertips.

A thin layer of mist clung to my fingertips, like a grayish-white, powdery substance.

He smelled it; it didn't have much of a scent, but there was an indescribable feeling, like... the scent of time.

It's not a smell, it's a taste of the soul.

It's hard to describe the feeling; it's like standing in front of an ancient tomb that's been there for thousands of years.

You can feel the weight of time, the depth of history, and the passage of countless days and nights.

Zhao Zilong stood beside Lin Chen, lowering his voice as if afraid of disturbing something:

"My lord, this is where I was ejected last time. The further you go in, the stronger the repulsive force becomes."

When I reached that position, I felt as if a mountain was pressing down on my shoulders.

Taking another step forward, the force suddenly erupted, and I was thrown back, my hand split open on the spot, taking three days to heal.

Lin Chen nodded, said nothing, and strode forward.

His feet were on the void, step by step, as if he were climbing stairs.

With each step, the air grew heavier.

When he took the third step, an invisible force came towards him, like a wall blocking his way.

That wall is invisible and intangible, but you can feel it.

It's like a giant pane of glass, stretching across the sky and dividing the world into two sides.

This is the human world, what's over there? I don't know.

Lin Chen raised his hand and gave a gentle push.

The wall shattered into countless pieces, like glass.

Zhao Zilong watched from behind, his eyes wide with amazement.

The last time he slammed his head against this wall with all his might, his tiger's mouth was shattered, his blood surged, and he lay on the ground for a long time before he could get up.

Lin Chen shattered it with a casual push; that's the difference.

It's not a difference in realm, it's a difference in level; they're not even on the same dimension.

Lin Chen continued walking forward, and the fog grew thicker and thicker, turning from grayish-white to milky white, as viscous as milk, making it impossible to see one's hand in front of one's face.

Divine sense was also suppressed; what was originally a hundred-mile radius could now only extend a hundred feet.

Zhao Zilong followed behind, not daring to stray too far or too close.

He knew his own limitations; in a place like this, he was just a burden.

But he had to go along, because he was not only the commander of the Northern Territory, but also Lin Chen's subordinate.

After walking for about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, Lin Chen suddenly stopped.

Not far ahead, there is a huge pit.

It was a hundred feet in diameter, with edges so neat they looked as if they had been cut with a knife, and so round they didn't seem natural.

The edge of the pit was covered with a black plant that Lin Chen had never seen before.

The leaves are black, as if dyed with ink, with clear veins, and the patterns on each leaf are different.

The stem is black, as thick as a baby's arm, and covered with barbs.

Even the flowers that bloom are black, with thick, fleshy petals that tremble slightly, as if they were alive.

The petals of those flowers had dark red veins that pulsated slightly, like blood vessels.

It was contracting and shrinking, as if something was flowing inside.

If you look closely, those lines are indeed pulsating, but at a very slow frequency, about once every ten breaths.

Lin Chen squatted down and picked a leaf.

The leaf struggled in his hand, writhing violently like a snake whose tail had been grabbed.

Then it quickly withered, turning into a pool of black liquid that flowed down between Lin Chen's fingers.

The juice dripped onto the ground, making a "sizzling" sound, and corroded a small pit in the ground.

White smoke rose from the edge of the pit, and a putrid smell filled the air, as if something had been rotting for a long time.

Lin Chen stood up and shook his hands.

With a surge of true energy, the juice on his hand was blasted away, landing on the ground beside him and corroding several small pits.

Zhao Zilong walked over, looked at the large pit, and his expression was solemn:

"My lord, something's not right. Should we retreat first and then make further plans?"

Lin Chen didn't say anything, but walked a few steps to the edge of the pit and looked down.

The pit was very deep, and the bottom was nowhere in sight.

The sunlight couldn't reach the bottom of the pit; all that could be seen was darkness, like a giant eye.

The pit walls were covered with black lines, crooked and twisted, like some kind of ancient runes or some kind of unknown script.

The patterns were glowing faintly, a dark red light, flashing slowly, about once every ten breaths.

The frequency is exactly the same as the patterns on those petals.

At the bottom of the pit, something is glowing.

The dark red light, brighter than the patterns on the pit wall, flickered like a heartbeat.

That rhythm, that frequency, that cadence—it was like a giant heart that had been dormant for countless millennia, slowly awakening.

Lin Chen narrowed his eyes and probed downwards with his divine sense.

Divine senses pierced through the darkness, through thick layers of rock, and through layer upon layer of restrictions.

Those restrictions were terrifyingly ancient, and the structure of the runes was completely different from the runes commonly used today.

It's more like some kind of primitive script, with each rune containing terrifying power.

They were layered upon layer, densely packed, like a giant net, firmly locking away what was at the bottom of the pit.

But those restrictions have already been loosened.

Some runes have faded, some have shattered, and some are only half left.

The power of time, coupled with the impact of great changes in the world, is causing these restrictions to crumble little by little.

Lin Chen's divine sense continued downwards and finally saw what was at the bottom of the pit.