Chapter 219: The Thorn Corridor and the Echoes of the Past

Stepping into the passage illuminated by geopulse energy, a scent utterly different from the decay outside struck them. The air still carried the weight of age, yet lacked the dust and rot; instead, a faint, peculiar fragrance—like sandalwood mixed with ancient paper—lingered subtly. The walls were no longer cold metal, but a smooth, ivory-white jade-like stone, carved with exquisitely intricate reliefs.

The reliefs no longer depicted simple geometric patterns or energy pathways, but narrative scenes: endless emerald forests, a world tree towering into the stars, a vast ark sailing beneath the heavens, and slender, pointed-eared, solemnly noble ancient elves—some operating complex instruments, some performing mysterious rituals, some coexisting harmoniously with strange creatures (including the ancestors of crystalline entities). Each relief pulsed with life and a sacred rhythm, as if eternally preserving fragments of a glorious past.

“This place… seems important?” Lingna stared at the reliefs, unconsciously extending her hand to brush over one depicting elf priests blessing a sapling of the world tree. The emerald veins within her right arm’s crystal pulsed faintly in resonance, sending a warmth through her.

“Energy grade increased. Environmental purity extremely high. Tuiceyijinrufangzhouhexinquyuwaiwei 。” Zero’s console scanned the surroundings. “The passage contains a weak but persistent energy field with self-repair and purification functions. No direct threats detected.”

This eased their taut nerves slightly, but they remained cautious. Gro Na led the way, her powered armor’s heavy footsteps echoing unnaturally loud in the silent corridor. Ai Li followed close behind; though badly injured, her steps remained steady, her gaze sharp as she scanned every corner and shadow ahead. Lingna supported Ai Li, while Zero hovered at the rear, covering their back and maintaining continuous scans.

The passage sloped downward, winding endlessly. The stories on the reliefs advanced: the ark now faced a dimensional storm, the stars chaotic and perilous, massive tentacles and twisted shadows flickering within the tempest (clearly the Vanguard of the Devouring Maw), the elves fighting fiercely—some falling, some perishing—the scenes growing grim and oppressive.

Finally, the reliefs froze on the moment the ark, trailing fire, plummeted toward an alien planet—filled with despair and defiance.

“So… this is how they came here…” Lingna whispered, her heart sinking. The reliefs silently told the tragic history of the ark “New Oasis.”

Suddenly, Gro Na at the front raised her fist, signaling a halt.

“Light ahead. And… sound,” she murmured, her powered armor’s sensors locked onto a corner ahead.

Everyone held their breath. Indeed, from beyond the corner came a faint, intermittent sound—as if countless voices whispered and chanted together. The voice was ethereal and solemn, in ancient, elegant Elvish. Though the words were unintelligible, it stirred an instinctive calm and reverence.

At the same time, a soft golden-green glow seeped from beyond.

Could there still be surviving ancient elves here?

Gro Na gestured, signaling Ai Li and Lingna to stay put. She crept forward silently, her massive battle-axe slightly raised, ready to strike.

She slowly peered around the corner—then jerked back instantly, her face flushed red with disbelief and confusion.

“What is it?” Ai Li whispered.

“See for yourself… this is messed up…” Gro Na stepped aside.

Ai Li and Lingna cautiously approached and looked past the corner.

The sight left them stunned.

Beyond the corner was not a chamber or hall, but a wider, grander corridor! The walls were no longer carved reliefs, but alive, emerald-green thorn vines, slowly writhing and growing, forming natural arches and barriers. Blooming upon them were countless tiny flowers, glowing with soft golden-green light like stars, illuminating the entire corridor as bright as day—the soothing fragrance emanating from these blooms.

More shocking still: within the corridor, faint, translucent figures clad in ancient elven robes were barely visible! Like ghosts, they repeated fixed motions—some bowing in chant, some pruning vines, others manipulating control interfaces on the jade walls (which now glowed like screens)… The whispering chants came from these phantoms!

These were not living beings, but… residual energy imprints? Echoes of the past?

“Detected high-intensity, highly stable residual information field,” Zero’s scanning beam carefully avoided the phantoms. “Not ghosts. These are ‘information phantoms’—past energy and intent from this location, recorded and preserved by the environment. Non-corporeal. Non-interactive.”

Like a holographic recording, endlessly looping fragments of the past.

The group exhaled in relief, yet still found the scene miraculous and eerie. They stepped cautiously into this “Thorn Corridor.” The elf phantoms paid them no heed, immersed in their tasks. The vines, as if alive, subtly retracted as they approached, clearing a path—as if possessing rudimentary awareness.

The corridor stretched long, and the “information phantoms” changed. The elves’ expressions shifted from serene peace to growing anxiety, sorrow, and resolve. They seemed to be preparing—sealing away vital items, activating emergency protocols.

Finally, they reached the corridor’s end. There stood a massive door, naturally woven from countless thorn vines, intricately complex. No lockhole—only a deep, palm-shaped depression, encircled by ancient elven script and the world tree’s emblem.

Above the door, on the jade wall, the final “information phantom” played out:

An elderly, high-ranking elven priestess (her phantom more solid than the others) solemnly placed a miniature, softly glowing world tree seed—identical to the shattered one—into a box woven from thorns. Her face brimmed with sorrow and resolve, addressing the empty corridor—or perhaps, those who might one day witness this vision—speaking in ancient Elvish. Though the words were unintelligible, the intent—despair, warning, and hope—clearly pierced every mind.

【…The disaster cannot be avoided… The ark will sink… but we will not let the hope of ‘New Oasis’ perish entirely…】【…With the last fragment of the world tree as key, with our lives and beliefs as lock…】【…Only the true guardian, bearing the light of life and order, may open the final sanctuary and inherit ‘New Oasis’s legacy…】【…Beware… the darkness never left… it waits…】

The vision ended. The priestess’s phantom slowly faded, leaving only the thorn box’s image, sinking slowly into the thorn door, vanishing.

The group exchanged glances. The last world tree fragment? The legacy? Was it behind this door?

Lingna stared at the palm-shaped depression, then at her own right arm crystal—cracked, yet pulsing with the power of the world tree’s tender branch—and a powerful thought surged within her.

She took a deep breath, and under everyone’s gaze, stepped forward, pressing her crystal right hand into the depression.

Perfect fit.

The moment contact was made, the emerald veins in her arm blazed! All patterns on the thorn door came alive, surging with vibrant life energy and the light of order!

Yet, at that instant—change erupted!

At the corridor’s far entrance, the once-harmless thorn vines erupted wildly, instantly sealing their retreat! Simultaneously, the previously harmless elf phantoms turned their eyes cold and hostile, all facing Lingna—their chanting songs twisting into shrill, piercing noises of rejection and warning!

Zero’s alarm blared: “WARNING! High-intensity defense mechanism activated! Information field undergoing unknown mutation! Energy signature analysis… contaminated with… world tree guardian energy and… faint… annihilation pollution!”

Annihilation pollution?! Had the defense mechanism been partially corrupted over millennia?!

The thorn door began to tremble, rumbling heavily—as if slowly opening. But the light seeping from the crack was no longer pure life-energy; it carried a faint, unsettling, twisted shadow!

Retreat cut off. The path ahead unknown and dangerous!

What awaited them beyond the door—legacy of hope, or another trap?