The sound of a baby crying grew clearer within the fog.
Faintly, the group could make out a dozen or so Wraiths.
"Found them. Take them out, then we'll move on to Tomb Raiding!"
The words had barely fallen when a barrage of gunfire rang out, leaving streaks of white bullet trails in the mist.
Klee and Nahida were jolted awake. They rubbed their eyes but had no intention of coming down, simply hugging Ryen tighter while watching the Twilight wraiths drifting in the sky.
As for Paimon, she just smacked her lips a few times, rolled over, and started snoring again.
The Twilight wraiths weren't much different from ordinary Wraiths—
just better suited to survive here, a little stronger.
But even so, they were no match for the flood of modern firearms.
In nearly an instant, the fog was swept clean by hot weaponry, the wraiths letting out mournful cries before dissolving into wisps of blue smoke.
The gunfire only lasted a short while. Soon, everything fell silent again.
Rubbing her ears, Beidou chuckled:
"These things are amazing to use. The only downside is the noise—they give away your position too easily. Prolonged firefights can damage your hearing too."
Ryen waved his hand.
"There are attachments for that. A silencer can fix the problem. I just didn't bring any with me. If you need them, you can study it later."
No one dwelled too long on the subject. Laughing and chatting, they continued forward.
Before long, they broke through the mist—only to see rows upon rows of tombstones stretching endlessly into the distance.
The sheer number was uncountable, impossible to see where it ended.
Dim pumpkin lanterns dotted the area, casting an eerie glow over the cemetery.
Hu Tao pouted with some regret:
"What a shame… none of these clients belong to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor!"
"Otherwise, with such a huge graveyard, Wangsheng could've earned so much Mora!"
Having finally reached their destination, even Keqing was in high spirits. Smiling, she teased:
"But in this world, no one uses Mora, right?"
Hu Tao puffed her cheeks.
"Gold works too! This Hall Master isn't picky!"
"..."
After a moment of silence, Ryen skipped past the topic and said quietly:
"Let's get to work. Dig up all these graves."
"All of them?"
Jean frowned slightly, scanning the seemingly endless cemetery.
It wasn't the quantity that troubled her…
It was the fact that grave-robbing was grave-robbing.
She couldn't help but feel guilty about it.
"All of them."
Ryen nodded lightly.
"Don't burden yourselves. Inside, you might just find the staves you've been looking for."
With that, nothing more needed to be said.
Everyone pulled out shovels and pickaxes, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they stared at the cemetery ahead—
as though they were already seeing treasure.
Venti, eager to make the first move, suddenly found himself stopped by Ryen.
"Almost forgot to mention…"
"Many of these graves may contain trapped chests. Open one recklessly, and it could explode."
"So before opening anything, make sure to check whether there's TNT beneath or around the chest."
Hearing this, Hu Tao fell silent for a moment. In the end, she couldn't hold back and blurted out:
"How could there be such a weirdo who puts bombs inside his own coffin!?"
Ryen shrugged.
"The world is vast, full of wonders. Let's move."
With that, Ryen carried Klee and Nahida off to the side.
He still had kids with him—there was no way he could take Klee and the others tomb raiding, right?
What, should tomb-raiding be taught from childhood?
That would be a bit too devoid of conscience.
With the staff as motivation, everyone's spirits were high.
For a while, the long-silent Spooky Forest echoed with the clattering and banging of smashing and looting.
Looking at the group, eyes gleaming with anticipation even while grave robbing, Ryen actually felt a bit relieved.
Truth be told, Ryen had countless times felt grateful that—although zombies and such creatures appeared frighteningly realistic—villagers, at least, still looked like pixelated blocky figures without shading or detail.
If villagers really had been fully fleshed out with shaders and realistic textures, that would've been troublesome.
Not to mention whether everyone could even keep believing these beings weren't the same species as them—
just that alone would cause a moral barrier against exploiting villager "technology."
And even if they did manage to accept it, and actually enslaved villagers on a large scale,
Ryen worried they might get too used to that way of life and, once back in Teyvat, start enslaving ordinary people too.
Like now, with their moral baseline intact, yet still able to deal freely with the things of this world—
that was exactly the outcome Ryen most wanted to see.
As he pondered, an explosion suddenly came from Tartaglia's direction.
The next moment, Tartaglia was blasted away like a rag, crashing down right in front of Ryen.
Everyone jumped in fright and quickly looked over.
Tartaglia looked completely baffled, with no idea what had just happened.
But the Totem of Undying at his waist had already turned to ashes and disappeared.
Tartaglia only felt that he was now more powerful and healthier than ever before—
as if he had been reborn.
But…
this didn't feel like something to celebrate.
Tartaglia looked uncertain. He glanced at his own hands, clenched his fists.
Powerful.
Unprecedentedly powerful.
But he couldn't smile. Deep down, he felt he had lost something precious.
"I… died?"
Tartaglia looked at Ryen, grief and anger written all over his face.
Ryen rolled his eyes and patted him on the shoulder.
"Congratulations—you've discovered the Blind Spot."
~~----------------------
Patreon Advance Chapters:
[email protected] / Dreamer20