Chapter Forty-One: The Fantasy Instance "Tomb of the Dragon Emperor"

“Commander, we’re late!”

The swarm of attackers unleashed a barrage of ranged assaults, combining their skills in groups of three or even ten. For now, Zhao Nan could only conjure a wall of ice crystals to fend them off.

In that brief moment, Zuo Panglong had already been rescued.

“Did you really think I’d only bring five men to ambush you?” Zuo Panglong’s lips curled into a cold sneer. “Even if you sprouted wings, you wouldn’t escape the palm of my hand! No need to hold back—everyone, attack!”

The ice crystal wall could withstand only a handful of skill attacks before shattering, and its cooldown required ten seconds to recast. As the wall splintered, Zhao Nan gripped his staff and swept it forward with force.

The Scepter of Sighs carried a level 20 fire skill—Meteor Rain—instantly filling the corridor with blazing fireballs, dozens of massive spheres hurtling towards the mob ahead.

Thunderous explosions shook the passage, smoke billowed, and when the air cleared, Zuo Panglong could no longer see the two fugitives. He gritted his teeth and spat, “They’re trying to activate the instance. I won’t let them succeed! After them!”

As they gave chase, the ground suddenly turned to mire—some failed to dodge and were sucked into the swampy earth. Zuo Panglong stepped over his subordinates’ shoulders, forging ahead. His archers kept firing, arrows whistling forward.

Finina’s silver sword danced like a river of light, deflecting every arrow that threatened Zhao Nan.

Suddenly, a golden gateway appeared ahead—the entrance to the Fantasy Instance! Zhao Nan hurriedly thrust the key into the lock.

He turned and cast another wall of ice crystals. When it shattered, he swung his staff once more—dozens of wind blades sliced through the air. The ancient arcane master’s terrifying spellcasting prowess made Zuo Panglong’s party suffer.

By now, the instance gate had opened. Zhao Nan grasped Finina’s hand and leapt inside.

“I won’t let this go!” Zuo Panglong roared and followed them into the instance.

“Commander!”

After Zuo Panglong, several of his men managed to slip in as well. But once the sixth entered, the gate slammed shut.

Now, the six who had entered the instance heard the system’s announcement:

“‘Tomb of the Dragon Emperor’... Scene generating!”

...

Endless yellow sands rolled like an ocean, the only scenery in sight. In the distance, earthen waves and ravines stretched across the horizon.

Fiery clouds glowed—dusk had fallen.

This was the scene Zhao Nan beheld upon entering the instance. Meanwhile, he and Finina found their attire altered, now clad in the humble farmer’s clothing from decades past.

Only the two of them were present—the others, Zuo Panglong and his three subordinates, seemed to have been teleported elsewhere. Zhao Nan suspected the separation was due to their different team statuses.

“Where... are we?” Finina scanned their surroundings, but everywhere was sand, nothing but sand.

“See if you can open your inventory,” Zhao Nan said suddenly.

Finina quickly checked, her expression turning anxious.

Zhao Nan nodded, raised his staff, and summoned a small fireball, blasting a shallow crater into the earth ahead.

“Skills are usable. Equipment effects remain... but the inventory won’t open,” Zhao Nan frowned. “Which means we can’t use any restorative potions, only rely on our natural recovery.”

He fired six more fireballs in succession, stirring up a cloud of dust. Zhao Nan frowned again, “Their power seems restricted—only about half of normal. And our recovery speed is reduced to a third.”

Finina tested her own skills and found the results matched Zhao Nan’s assessment.

“We should leave this place first, figure out where we are before planning our next move,” Zhao Nan said helplessly.

Finina agreed, and the two began traversing the arid land of yellow earth and red sand. The temperature fluctuated wildly between day and night, the climate was dry, and with their inventory inaccessible, their first challenge was food and water.

Without those, survival would quickly become impossible.

Two hours later, night had fallen. Darkness enveloped them, but the stars shone brightly overhead. Yet neither of them was in the mood to appreciate the view.

Ahead, a glimmer of firelight appeared. Zhao Nan’s face brightened, “Someone’s there!”

They walked several hundred meters further, rounded a mound, and spotted a camp. The glow of the bonfire carried the scent of food.

The clothing worn by these people was unexpectedly familiar to Zhao Nan—earthly garments, though not contemporary, more reminiscent of the styles from forty or fifty years ago... the attire of farmers.

“Finina, stay behind me, ready to support at any moment.”

After careful consideration, Zhao Nan decided they needed to learn more about their surroundings. The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor... the name sounded familiar.

He jogged over, casting ‘Stone Armor’ upon himself. Only when he reached the camp did he stop, with Finina hidden behind him.

Sky Sword Saint’s skill—Ghost Shadow.

When motionless, it granted invisibility, lasting one to three minutes. Any action broke the effect, but attacks delivered multiplied damage, depending on skill proficiency.

“Brother, could you help me out?” Zhao Nan pinched his throat, producing a shrill, eunuch-like voice. Behind him, Finina suppressed a laugh, leaving Zhao Nan awkward.

“What is it?”

A man emerged from the camp, his shirt carelessly opened, exposing a bulging belly—he looked freshly fed.

He spoke in Mandarin... Zhao Nan was surprised, still unsure which story the Fantasy Instance had chosen. Fantasy Instances differed from regular ones in that you might not encounter a familiar storyline. After all, human imagination was as countless as grains of sand.

Zhao Nan lowered his head, “Brother, I got lost. I’ve been hungry for ages. Could you spare some food?”

“Do you have any money?”

“No...”

“Go on, get lost!” The man waved his hand impatiently.

“Please, brother, have mercy! I haven’t eaten all day!”

“You’re so annoying! Get out of here, get... get...” The man’s frustration faded, his eyes losing their light, turning vacant. His posture slackened, his body now limp.

Zhao Nan signaled, and Finina deactivated her Ghost Shadow skill, appearing at his side. The man didn’t react at all.

A dark skill—Beguile! Under its influence, a person’s spirit could be controlled.

“Now, tell me, where is this place, and what are you doing here?” Zhao Nan commanded, stepping before the man.

“This is the Gobi Desert in Ningxia. We are here to excavate the tomb of the Dragon Emperor.” The man replied mechanically.

Dragon Emperor... Zhao Nan’s brow furrowed. He pressed further, “Who’s in charge of the excavation? How far have you gotten?”

“A foreigner named Alex. The tomb has been opened. Alex has already taken away the Dragon Emperor’s terracotta warriors. We’re continuing the excavation.”

“When did this happen?”

“Three days ago.”

“Go fetch some food and water for two people,” Zhao Nan ordered, snapping his fingers. The man hurried off into the camp.

“Nan, did you find out?” Finina asked.

Zhao Nan nodded, then gestured for silence. After the man returned with supplies, they hid behind a nearby mound.

While eating, Zhao Nan explained the content of this instance:

The son of an explorer had unearthed the cursed terracotta warriors of the Dragon Emperor and became entangled in a plot to revive him. The explorer’s family and a future daughter-in-law fought through a series of challenges and, at last, destroyed the Dragon Emperor.