Chapter 74: Day One: The Day of Submersion

Day One: The Day of Submersion

(Big Cup for April Fools’ Day! Praise [Chaos], may none of you ever be deceived! XD)

“Approaching [Order] appears to be another form of [Chaos] in the eyes of [Chaos].”

Unexpectedly, the casual lie I told to conceal my identity had come true.

Precisely because the followers of [Chaos], bearing that fabricated name, drew near to [Order], killed the Child of [Order], true [Chaos] was born.

From then on, the Grand Inquisition became mired in war, and as time passed and faith spread, [Chaos] began to descend.

So, who am I, really?

The Ultraman of Hope Continent... or...

The real Cheng Shi?

This question is immense—so immense it could shatter one’s mind.

To avoid going mad, Cheng Shi decisively skipped this topic and returned to the trial.

This is not something a mortal can comprehend—not yet, at least.

He quickly organized his thoughts and expression, ensuring Gao Yu noticed no flaw that might lead to deductions about him, then skillfully shifted the subject.

Gao Yu seemed reluctant to drop it, but once Cheng Shi stopped talking, continuing on his own would make him seem childish.

So his mouth opened and closed several times—this time, he finally held his tongue.

The group had been trekking through the mountain hollow for four or five hours; rainwater now pooled beneath their feet, and low spots were already submerged up to their ankles.

The path grew harder with every step.

But fortunately, the destination lay just ahead.

Zhao Qian gazed up at the towering mountain and said solemnly:

“Miss Tao, I beg you.”

Tao Yi gave a soft hum and began casting a spell on the vines protruding from the cliff face.

With her nimble fingers guiding them, the vines clinging to the cliff surged upward, spreading like ink bleeding across a blank sheet of rice paper—within mere breaths, they blanketed the entire cliff wall.

Clearly, they were to climb using these vines.

With time running short, they decided against detouring around the mountain.

They would turn straight up here.

Cheng Shi stared at the near-vertical cliff and winced.

Gao Yu, hearing the sound, muttered under his breath:

“Need help?”

An adult being asked by a child under eighteen whether he needed help.

Anyone with a shred of shame would refuse politely, put on a show of strength, pretend to be the capable adult.

But Cheng Shi did not.

What is shame?

I only have the heart to give up.

“Yes.”

His answer was firm and decisive.

Gao Yu gave him a “I knew it” look, nodded mechanically, and pulled out his tool kit from his clothes.

He withdrew a palm-sized silver-white metal sheet and a small hammer, floated the material midair, and began striking it repeatedly.

Soon, under Cheng Shi’s vocal commentary of “Forty, forty, forty,” he scowled and forged a brand-new backrest chair.

A chair designed to be strapped to someone’s back, so another person could sit atop it and be carried up the cliff!

Cheng Shi wasn’t interested in the chair—he was fascinated by Gao Yu’s mechanical engineering arts.

Clearly, the small hammer in Gao Yu’s hand was a powerful magical artifact.

The kid hadn’t even focused on shaping it—he simply tapped a few times, and the chair materialized exactly as he envisioned.

This level of creation far surpassed any 3D printing.

“You... are going to carry me?”

“...”

Gao Yu turned to Cheng Shi, expression saying “You’re even more shameless than I imagined,” and growled:

“I’m a mage!”

Cheng Shi grinned, took the chair, and glanced toward the front row.

Old bastard...

Forget it—he’s coughing up his lungs.

Zhao Qian...

He’s already climbed up; we can’t make him come back down.

Su Yi Da...

That bastard had already seen through his plan and turned away, hand planted firmly on the cliff—clearly refusing to be the laborer.

That leaves only one pink-haired girl...

Uh...

Kid makes tools, woman does the heavy lifting?

If that’s the outcome, then I, a proud, upright man, would become useless?

“Need help?”

Tao Yi, as if expecting Cheng Shi’s request, turned and looked at the backrest chair in his hands.

Cheng Shi froze, then summoned his manly resolve and declared firmly:

“Yes!”

Then he sidled up to Tao Yi with a sly grin and asked:

“Convenient?”

Tao Yi smiled like a little fox, her eyes narrowing into slits.

“Convenient. I’ve got these.”

With a wave of her hand, she drew down the cliffside vines, threaded them through the chair, and secured it snugly against her side.

Cheng Shi was deeply moved—he sprinted forward and sat down.

Oh my god, a flesh-and-blood elevator—so good.

Gao Yu trailed behind, expressionless.

Some kind of assistive device on his legs let him walk the cliff face as if it were flat ground.

The group reached the mountain’s mid-slope with ease, broke off several stone slabs, and built a makeshift rain shelter.

“The stone here is indeed hard, and easy to climb up and down—perfect.”

Su Yi Da ran his hands over the cliff face, deeply agreeing with Zhao Qian’s assessment.

Zhao Qian smiled casually, standing at the cliff’s edge, gazing into the distance.

“Don’t be blindly optimistic. We still don’t know if the trial’s theme is rain—we’re just taking it one step at a time.”

“Cough cough cough... don’t be pessimistic either, cough cough cough... you’re young, stay positive—when soldiers come, meet them with generals; when water comes, block it with earth.”

“Good! Well said!”

Since no one had exerted themselves, Cheng Shi had no role to play—so he became the morale booster, offering spiritual encouragement.

Su Yi Da glanced at Cheng Shi and shook his head with a wry smile.

This... Priest of [Birth]? Hope he can be a bit more reliable.

Cheng Shi caught Su Yi Da’s expression and flashed a bright smile in response.

Time accelerated; the rain grew heavier.

The initial curtain of droplets had swelled into a torrential downpour.

No, even “torrential” no longer sufficed—it was as if some river or lake had been drained and dumped straight from the heavens.

The volume was so immense it nearly forced people to lower their arms.

The deluge pounded down, pressing against shoulders and necks, making them feel weighed down.

Seeing this, no one could remain calm enough to chat.

“The water’s rising—within an hour, it’ll reach here. Everyone, prepare.”

Zhao Qian gripped a length of vine and rapidly wound it, clearly crafting something.

Voices were drowned out; the stone shelter groaned under the rain’s weight. Su Yi Da cupped his hands over his nose and barely managed to speak:

“We’re barely above the mountain’s base—can it rise this fast?”

“You must consider the rain is still intensifying—it’ll rise faster, not slower! Tao, Gao Yu, help!”

“Got it!”

Tao Yi stood beneath the stone slab and cast again, summoning the vines upward to serve as raw material.

Gao Yu swung his hammer relentlessly, compacting the vines into hollow, dense “logs.”

But this process was far slower than his work with the special metal.

Zhao Qian bound the logs tightly and assembled them into a raft.

In the face of visible flood, the simplest, most basic solution was to build a raft that could drift with the current.

Why not have the mechanical kid just build a submarine...

Cheng Shi had considered it, but the kid’s pack had too little material—even enough for a single-person version wasn’t enough.

“Sigh, He foresaw everything long ago; sealing the space is truly brilliant.”

“How much more?”

“Three more poles!”

Just as the raft was about to be assembled, Su Yi rushed back from the cliff’s edge, face grim.

“Hurry! Everyone prepare! There’s no time left!”

Everyone looked up in shock, and saw beyond the mountains, where sky met earth, a continuous white line had suddenly appeared.

The white line thickened steadily, and soon all players clearly saw its true form.

That wasn’t a white line at all—it was a colossal wave that could make anyone’s jaw drop.

The height of the wave was enough to make you strain your neck to the breaking point!

Fuck, what the hell is this?

What use is a raft against a wave this big?

With this much water crashing down, will the mountain even still exist?

“Tao Yi, keep going! Gao Yu, weave bamboo baskets! Cui Lao, reinforce the baskets!”

Zhao Qian reacted quickly, shifting strategy to turn the raft into a floating device capable of lifting people upward.

Under these circumstances, sinking to the bottom was an inevitable outcome—so they had to hurry and find a way to achieve rapid ascent.

“Su Yi Da, if we fail, is there a chance to try again?”

Zhao Qian stared at Su Yi Da with a solemn expression, awaiting his reply.

Su Yi Da’s gaze darkened, and he said seriously, “I’ll do my best.”

He didn’t promise outright, but it was a positive response.

That meant he could indeed rewind memories.

Knowing that was enough; Zhao Qian’s expression eased slightly, and he turned back to Cheng Shi.

“Nurse, you handle breath-holding and healing underwater—don’t worry about the ‘newborns,’ we’ll take care of them.”

The priest has a skill called Water Healing, which grants underwater respiration and eases pain—a basic skill Cheng Shi naturally possessed.

He nodded to show he could be relied on, but then frowned.

The trial lasts three days.

If such a spectacle occurs on the first day, Cheng Shi couldn’t imagine how they’d survive the next three.

Are we going to surf our way through this?

This isn’t internet surfing—it won’t pass the time.

“It’s coming! Everyone, get into the baskets!! Quick!”

No sooner had he spoken than the sky turned black.

The roaring hum drowned out even the thunder in the heavens!

Cheng Shi stepped without hesitation into the bamboo basket fixed to the raft, watching Cui Dingtian cough as he rapidly absorbed the rotting qi from the vines to strengthen the raft, and drew a tense breath.

Under these circumstances, he couldn’t help but be tense.

The unimaginably massive wave loomed right before them, like a wall rising from the earth to the stars—its crushing pressure was utterly despairing.

“Nurse, heal!”

In Zhao Qian’s final roar...

“Boom—”

The wave crashed downward, annihilating heaven and earth.

Everyone felt a weight like the sky collapsing onto them; each person spat a mouthful of blood.

But that blood vanished quickly.

Because after a dizzying whirl, the so-called peaks had become underwater rock spires.

Everything in sight had sunk beneath the sea.