Chapter 155: Entries

Inside the passage, the pungent, rancid odor faded under the purification of the holy light.

The Great Artisan God took a deep breath, his aged face showing no sign of relief—only deeper worry.

“No need for that. This… this is what I should do.”

“Muxuan.”

A deep and authoritative voice echoed in the emptiness.

The figure made of pure holy light turned slightly toward the Great Artisan God.

Though both eyes were closed, that “gaze” seemed to pierce through the thick metal walls, reaching toward the darker depths of the living quarters.

“The corruption doesn’t stop here. The source lies deeper.”

The Great Artisan God instinctively tightened his grip on the heavy forge hammer and turned to look.

“Let’s go.”

His voice was hoarse as he first turned sideways and squeezed through the door gap, which had been battered and twisted out of shape.

The scene beyond the door confirmed the worst fears.

What was once a hub corridor now looked like a corner of hell.

The light was dim, with only a few emergency crystal lamps embedded in the walls casting a bleak, pale glow.

The floor and walls were covered in large patches of dried, blackened blood, mixed with sticky, foul-smelling dark green stains.

Indiscernible fragments of limbs were scattered everywhere in disarray.

A thick, suffocating sense of “filth” filled the air.

This filth was like tangible grease, making the Great Artisan God feel a burning pain in his lungs with every breath.

The power within his blood seemed to be silently corrupted as well.

“Hmph!”

The Great Artisan God let out a muffled grunt.

A thin layer of blood-colored aura instantly flared up on the surface of his body, forcibly driving away the filth that tried to侵蚀.

“The filth… is spreading.”

“Muxuan” calmly stated the fact.

As his voice fell, the soft holy light radiating from his body suddenly expanded its range, forming an invisible purification field.

Instantly, the “corruption” was washed clean.

From the shadows nearby, roars and low howls immediately sounded.

The Great Artisan God felt the air become clean again and breathed a slight sigh of relief, but then he grew alert again.

Amid the roars, there were also heavy and chaotic footsteps.

Several twisted figures burst out from different damaged doorways.

“Hmph!”

The Great Artisan God let out a low roar.

The heavy forge hammer in his hand felt as light as nothing.

BOOM!

The heavy hammer swept out with a tearing air-piercing screech, dark red aura condensing at the hammerhead.

Three polluted Dwarves that had rushed in front of him were like mud smashed by an invisible giant force.

Their upper bodies instantly exploded, splattering filth and gore, staining the walls with nauseating mottled patterns.

Yet the remains scattered around the room, stained with slime, still stubbornly tried to reassemble, writhing incessantly.

The Great Artisan God stood there like a wall.

Those polluted Dwarves were torn apart by the wild power around him before they could even get close.

His power level far surpassed these polluted, twisted individuals.

Each attack was devastating.

For a moment, the room was filled with the dull sound of bones shattering, the squelch of flesh bursting, and the dying howls of monsters.

But the problem remained.

He frowned deeply because he couldn’t resolve the pollution.

The polluted remains he had shattered and destroyed did not die completely.

The writhing remains were like ever-spreading lesions, polluting the entire space, and subtly showing signs of reassembling or corrupting other objects.

The blood-colored aura on the Great Artisan God’s body fluctuated violently, driving away the erosion, but the effect was minimal.

“Your Holiness!”

The Great Artisan God’s voice carried a hint of urgency and heaviness.

“This filth…”

He knew very well that he couldn’t purify this pollution.

The “War Rampart” only had a trait that could resist pollution, not one that could suppress it.

Once the pollution entered the interior of the “War Rampart,” the Great Artisan God was helpless.

As the Great Artisan God’s words fell, “Muxuan,” who had been standing silently at his side and emanating a soft radiance, moved.

“I understand.”

A deep and authoritative voice rang out, carrying a wave of light that dispelled some of the oppression.

With “Muxuan’s” movement, pure and vast Lightforce, as if awakened, surged out from his body composed of holy light.

This time, the light was no longer a trickle but transformed into a pure torrent.

Centered on “Muxuan,” it spread outward silently yet swiftly.

This light was not dazzling or blinding, but it carried an irresistible force, gently washing over the cold corridor covered in blood, slime, and writhing remains.

In an instant, the pollution was completely removed, dissipating as white smoke.

The Great Artisan God stopped his swing of the forge hammer, breathing heavily, the blood-colored aura on his body slowly receding.

Feeling the air become fresh again, a complex expression appeared on his face.

He wiped a few drops of blood that had splashed onto his face, then turned to look at “Muxuan,” feeling somewhat moved.

“Muxuan” met the Great Artisan God’s gaze, only nodded slightly, then asked with some confusion:

“Does the War Rampart not have a trait for purifying pollution?”

This was what Muxuan found most puzzling.

Since even the “Molten Core” could have a trait related to purifying pollution, shouldn’t the “War Rampart,” also a Wonder Building, have at least one?

Hearing “Muxuan’s” question, the Great Artisan God fell silent.

After a long while, he finally spoke slowly.

“Traits aren’t something you can just have whatever you want. They’re highly random and strongly tied to the building.”

“The ‘Molten Core’s’ trait was rolled nearly seventy times before it came out. That’s also because fire itself has a certain purifying effect.”

“The ‘War Rampart,’ on the other hand, has no related aspect. Its only trait merely resists pollution, not purifies it…”

For a moment, “Muxuan” also fell silent.

But soon, he turned back to the Great Artisan God and asked:

“Can’t you install more than one trait?”

This was also a point that Muxuan was concerned about.

She remembered that in the memories of successive Popes, the Wonder Building at the peak of the Dwarf Tribe—a mobile fortress—had hundreds of traits, which was extremely terrifying.

Now, the “Molten Core” should only have three traits, and no matter how many traits the “War Rampart” had, it should only be four.

“It’s not that simple. Every additional trait increases the required resources and power exponentially.”

“We… can’t get that many resources. Similarly, many traits are useless, and adding them is just a waste.”

The Great Artisan God slowly wiped the blood off his forge hammer, his voice full of helplessness.

“If not for the Eerie Calamity, many traits would be quite useful, especially when dealing with other races. But the problem is, after the Eerie Calamity descended, many traits became ineffective.”

“In a situation where resources are scarce, obviously traits that can deal with the Eerie are more useful. Wasting resources to install more traits is actually the inferior strategy.”