Facing an Ancient God for a Year
Chapter 1254 - 1252: Strange Harvest

Chapter 1254: Chapter 1252: Strange Harvest

"What’s going on?"

In the icy cold basement, faced with the sudden changes, Amila clenched her teeth, barely suppressing the urge to scream.

Her reaction was swift— the barrier she had dismissed earlier was immediately reinstated, enveloping the three of them.

But she quickly realized it was entirely unnecessary.

The grotesque creature that had been writhing menacingly on Anke’s body had suddenly stopped moving, layers of White Frost forming on its surface.

"There really has been a change..."

Next to her, Reginald wasn’t much better off, staring at the scene with a perplexed, complicated expression.

So, we were just a step away from the answer?

Our assumptions weren’t wrong— sending him into the Nightmare truly led to unheard-of discoveries...

If only we had gone just a little further...

Yet, thanks to this guy recklessly inviting danger, the answer was lost.

...

"So, this is essentially the same Nightmare, just concealed too well?"

Amila clearly shared the same opinion— this majestic, icy spectacle was emanating from the one trapped below.

"It’s the same effect felt by the victims."

"Only when contact was made with the contamination of other Nightmares did it finally manifest?"

The more she thought, the more her scalp tingled. She turned to Reginald.

"What do we do next?"

If that’s the case, then this Nightmare deserves utmost attention.

Given the enormous number of victims, if there’s truly some hidden danger, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"Unfortunately, we didn’t see any special connections or pathways... We’re still far from the outcome we desire."

Reginald shook his head slowly, struggling to avert his gaze.

The Frostburn covering Anke’s body seemed to exude a freezing aura that could solidify thoughts themselves if stared at for too long.

The entire room lacked a trace of liquid moisture. Even the shattered remains of the Bloodsucking Parasites were coated with shimmering White Frost, almost devoid of any sign of life.

"It’s almost over. Let’s focus on eliminating the remaining contamination threat."

With this declaration, Reginald let out a low shout, igniting the Lead Flame in his hand before charging forward.

You’re really sure this still needs handling?

This scene made Amila feel genuine confusion.

Letting Anke unleash such a unique power resulted in him showing absolutely no signs of corruption.

The thing now frozen solid over his upper body had wholly lost its vitality, resembling nothing more than an ice sculpture. In comparison, Reginald’s flame seemed more likely to pose a threat.

Crash!

But Reginald acted decisively— in an instant, he struck the target.

The creature had indeed been rendered fragile, and the heavy metallic blaze fell like a hammer, shattering it into countless fragments that scattered across the ground.

Accompanying the moment was an almost imperceptible wail that flickered and vanished.

"Thank you."

The volunteer, now seemingly "rescued" with a single blow, calmly faced the still-burning Lead Flame in Reginald’s hand, showing no sign of fear as he removed the mask from his face.

The radiance that had enveloped him dissipated with the action.

...

Reginald’s expression turned slightly more complex. He didn’t respond, choosing instead to lower his gaze.

Among the scattered pieces of Ice Crystal, there was a faint glimmer of gold.

This...

Instinctively, Amila followed his line of sight, her brows furrowing upon comprehension.

"There’s no need to thank me."

Reginald finally broke his silence, stepping forward and retrieving the golden object from the icy fragments, holding it in his palm.

"It’s over."

But before he could elaborate further, Amila’s voice rang out in caution.

Before her words were fully spoken, the scene in front of them dissipated soundlessly, and a slightly cramped bedroom came back into view.

...

Everything was identical to when they left— dim lighting, sleep-aiding incense, even the bedroom’s owner lying quietly in place with the neural probe inserted into his head.

His body showed no signs of abnormality; his expression seemed to be steadily calming.

But everything also felt different; at least Reginald and Amila remained silent for the moment.

"So it really was just one minute?"

Breaking the silence, Fu Qian, who had been gazing at the corner of the room, made the observation aloud.

Startled by Fu Qian’s statement, Amila and Reginald immediately followed his gaze. There, in the farthest corner from the bed, sat a petite table clock.

The wooden case was intricately painted, its mechanisms clearly functioning properly, yet it had been cast aside, easily overlooked if unfamiliar.

Fu Qian not only spotted it but even kept track of the time, using it to verify his earlier claim.

Sharing a glance, Amila and Reginald both saw the complexity in each other’s expressions.

Fu Qian really brought so many surprises today.

"This is one of the Nightmare’s characteristics— once you enter, no matter how long you stay or in what way you exit, only one minute passes in the real world."

Ultimately, Amila spoke, her tone soft as she explained.

It sounded like a special response to the one-minute rule.

Fu Qian nodded slightly, sighing over the stringent rules of this world.

Throughout today’s Nightmare exploration, this thing—clearly tied to a high-ranking mystery—could only be scarcely engaged through disguised means.

"Of course, unless we remove the neural probe, he won’t wake up; instead, he’ll remain in this peculiar state of unconsciousness."

As she spoke, she gestured toward the man lying on the bed.

"Ah, so that’s how it works. It looks like he’ll finally get a decent slumber today."

Fu Qian sighed, handing the mask in his hand back to Amila.

Returning to reality, the mask’s intricate patterns had dulled.

"...How are you feeling?"

Amila reached out to accept it, but her focus remained on Fu Qian’s condition.

"Better than ever."

Fu Qian replied swiftly, his smile radiating genuine joy.

"Thank you for everything you did today."

"...It’s the Sect that should thank you. We gained plenty as well."

Faced with Fu Qian’s gratitude, Amila seemed unsure how to react, forcing a smile as she glanced at Reginald.

"Indeed, Mr. Anke truly brought many surprises today."

Reginald, who had been intently watching Fu Qian, seemed to hint at something in his words before shifting his gaze back to his palm.

Shimmering gold— the final treasure from the Nightmare had indeed been taken out.

Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a pocket watch.

Although its surface showed marks of wear, the golden material remained evident. Unfortunately, the dial had been smashed.

"Looks like an antique— a rather fine trophy."

Taking a glance, Fu Qian chuckled, offering a polite compliment.

"To think it could be brought out— a truly unusual phenomenon... But this item seems perfectly ordinary; it’s just an everyday object..."

Reginald murmured to himself, his expression complicated as he glanced up at Fu Qian before unexpectedly extending the watch toward him.

"Take it. Technically speaking, it’s your trophy."

"The Sect doesn’t take advantage of meaningless offerings."