VOL.1 Chapter 4: The Underground Man-Made Cavern and Subterranean Fracture
2:00 PM, core deep exploration area of Sanxingdui Archaeological Site
After a full morning of equipment maintenance, circuit troubleshooting and data calibration, all conventional archaeological survey equipment was back in operation with full precision and stable data readings. To the regular field staff, the bizarre mass equipment failure from the night before was a thing of the past, and routine excavation work had returned to normal.
But the five members of the Ruin Guardian Unit knew better. The equipment’s recovery was only a superficial illusion. Void energy continued to surge deep underground, the ancient seal kept deteriorating, and the subterranean rift leaked dark power little by little. The crisis from the previous night had never gone away — it merely lay low, waiting for its next outburst.
Ordinary geophysical scanners were easily interfered and cloaked by Void energy. They could not cut through the shallow seal’s deceptive surface layer to map the true layout of underground caverns or track the rift’s movement patterns. To fully gauge the extent of damage to the Wood Ruin Seal, trace the spillage channel of Void energy, and pinpoint the burial location of Void Core Anchor fragments, Banbandin had to break the limits of standard archaeological hardware.
Banbandin holed up in a makeshift equipment modification station and focused on nonstop refitting work. He took apart three mainstream stratigraphic scanners, two geomagnetic detector sets and an array of microseismic sensors. He removed the factory default filter modules and signal masking programs, replacing them with self-developed anti-Void penetration components, and rewrote the equipment’s underlying algorithms to eliminate signal distortion caused by Void energy while boosting deep-bedrock penetration performance.
He spent two whole hours on this meticulous work. Every circuit refit, component swap and parameter adjustment was executed with absolute precision. Mastery of both mechanical construction and energy shielding formed his exclusive expertise.
At 2:20 PM, the brand-new deep-penetration detection unit finished assembly and calibration. Compact and easy to carry, the device could bypass the energy camouflage of the Wood Ruin Seal and penetrate three hundred meters of rock vertically, accurately capturing the layout of underground caverns, fracture distribution and Void energy concentration gradients.
“Modification finished,” Banbandin brushed dust off his fingertips and turned to Jam with unwavering certainty. “We can launch deep subsurface scans now. The terminal will feed us authentic stratigraphic data, the full outline of the underground cavern and all fracture coordinates without being distorted by Void camouflage.”
Jam nodded slightly: “Keep scanning at low speed and low frequency. Do not blast high-power signals that might agitate underground Void energy and let our adversary lock onto our survey positions ahead of schedule. Our priority is to gather intelligence, not provoke direct conflict.”
“Understood.”
Banbandin carried the detector to the benchmark working platform of Sacrificial Pit No.3, secured the probe and calibrated its vertical angle before activating low-frequency scanning. The machine emitted a faint, barely audible hum as green scanning waves sank straight into the earth, peeling rock strata layer by layer and transmitting the subterranean landscape to the terminal screen in real time.
Mainstream archaeological academia had long maintained a fixed conclusion: Sanxingdui only featured shallow sacrificial pits and short underground corridors, with no large-scale man-made caverns or deep subterranean fractures. But as scanning depth increased, new imaging refreshed on screen and overturned every established academic assumption one after another.
One hundred and twenty meters below ground lay a massive barrier stratum of rammed earth constructed by human labor. Its soil density and layered compaction techniques perfectly matched those of the Xia Dynasty royal city at Erlitou — it was proven to be no natural geological formation.
One hundred and eighty meters beneath the surface sat an enormous hand-carved cavern. It stretched a hundred meters wide and over sixty meters deep, with flat, straight rock walls deliberately chiseled by ancient tribes. Its scale dwarfed every known underground structure unearthed at Sanxingdui.
The cavern’s stone walls were crisscrossed by interlocking ancient seal runes that formed closed-loop binding arrays. After three thousand years of erosion, most runes had faded, cracked and peeled off, rendering the formation incomplete and drastically reducing its defensive capacity.
At the absolute heart of the cavern ran a long vertical tear that split the bedrock, stretching down into deeper, uncharted subterranean zones. Thin wispy black mist seeped nonstop from the rift’s edges. The mist was faint and hard to trace, invisible to all civilian survey equipment yet laid bare by Banbandin’s custom detector.
“We’ve fully mapped the underground structure,” Banbandin stared at the terminal, speaking in a steady, urgent tone. “A giant man-made cavern sits 180 meters underground, forming the core of the secondary Wood Ruin Seal. This vertical fracture serves as the permanent passage connecting the mortal world to the Void.”
Sage leaned in to analyze the runic imaging and unpack the formation’s core mechanics. “This complete Wood Ruin Stabilization Array was built around Void Core Anchor fragments buried in the cavern, with wall runes acting as locking barriers. For three thousand years, it diverted and buffered Void corrosion to ease strain on the primary seal at Erlitou. Now the array is fragmented, and the rift constantly leaks darkness — its stabilization function is on the brink of total failure.”
Daipithy’s Ruin Guardian bloodline resonated at full strength. She could clearly sense the dark, ravenous Void power surging deep within the rift, flowing outward unceasingly through rock crevices to spread across the entire archaeological site.
“Clustered Void entities lie dormant inside the rift,” Daipithy said in a low, heavy voice. “They do not drift randomly; they gather in ordered energy masses, controlled and regulated by an outside force.”
Bangbangtu instantly raised full-site alert status, his sharp gaze sweeping the surrounding mountain forests. “We can confirm the mastermind of the Orb Reavers has been using this rift to channel Void energy nonstop and corrode the seal. The full-site anomalies we witnessed the night before were a direct result of the rift surging open.”
Jam stared at the image of the pitch-black rift on screen and fully pieced together Kaelor’s tactical playbook. “His plan is straightforward: no head-on assaults, no all-out clashes. He relies on peripheral reconnaissance teams, slow Void infiltration and rift tampering to wear down the Wood Ruin Seal over time. He will wait for the formation to fully decay and Void Core Anchor fragments to surface before seizing everything for himself.”
Deep subsurface drilling work kicked off in the afternoon.
Banbandin refitted the detector once more to resist Void interference and break through shallow shielding layers, probing vertically into uncharted rock formations. Standard archaeological sensors became useless in Void-saturated underground environments. Their built-in filter systems automatically classified all Void fluctuations as irrelevant noise, outputting deceptively stable data that concealed the seal’s impending collapse. Only the terminal rebuilt by Banbandin could pierce this deceptive surface illusion.
Suddenly, the Void energy curve on the terminal spiked violently, breaking the critical red warning threshold. Void concentration inside the cavern jumped twenty-one percent in just three seconds — a targeted surge that could not be explained by natural energy leakage. Faint cracking echoes reverberated from deep within the bedrock, too quiet for regular staff to pick up yet crystal clear to the Ruin Guardian Unit’s ears.
“The enemy is applying targeted pressure,” Banbandin’s fingers tightened around the terminal controls, his expression grave and his speech brisk. “They strike the seal’s damaged nodes with precise energy surges to test our detection capacity and force us to reveal our hand.”
Jam stepped beside the scanning terminal, his features hard and unyielding from years of experience guarding ancient hidden ruins. Kaelor, a former Ancient Realm Warden fallen to the Void, never favored reckless attacks. After three thousand years of hibernation, he mastered attrition warfare, eroding the seal’s barriers bit by bit and draining the Guardians’ reserves of strength and patience.
“Keep scanning at low frequency,” Jam ordered in a calm, resolute tone. “Do not counter with high-powered runic arrays. Our top priority right now is intelligence gathering, not confrontation. If we unleash our full combat power, we will expose our true capabilities and push the adversary to accelerate their plans. Let them believe we can only conduct passive monitoring with no means of intervention.”
The order issued, the whole team slipped into latent vigilance, each carrying out their assigned roles with seamless, ingrained coordination.
Bangbangt moved silently away from the excavation pit and threaded through the surrounding woodland with light footsteps. He built a full-perimeter observation network amid thick foliage, his acute hunter’s senses tracking every shift in wind, light and faint energy ripples.
Void energy spread across the site’s outskirts like an odorless toxic fog, deliberately concealed from civilian equipment yet impossible to hide from Bangbangtu’s wilderness-honed perception. He detected six mobile scouting posts forming a circular encirclement around the site. They never drew close nor fully retreated, always maintaining an exact observational distance.
“Six roaming scout posts on the perimeter,” Bangbangtu’s low report transmitted clearly over the private team comms channel. “Clear division of labor: some monitor seal fluctuations, some track our movements, others collect stray Void Core energy fragments. This is Kaelor’s standard reconnaissance formation; they are far better trained than ordinary low-level Void creatures.”
Down in the excavation pit, civilian archaeologists remained oblivious to the deadly game unfolding around them. They wiped bronze shards, logged stratigraphic records and packed unearthed relics, absorbed in their research on ancient civilization, blind to the darkness lurking beneath the earth and creeping in from the woods.
Sage knelt before the projection displaying cavern runic imaging, sliding her fingertips across the screen to dissect the array layer by layer. Three thousand years of erosion had split most runic chains, leaving countless cracks in the formation — every fracture served as an entry point for Void infiltration.
“I have fully unpacked the core logic of the Wood Ruin Seal,” Sage’s cool voice carried weight across the comms network. “The entire Sacrificial Pit complex and hundred-meter cavern form a dynamic depletion array. It was never meant to lock the Void away permanently; its sole function is to absorb and divert corrosive dark power to lighten the burden on the primary Erlitou seal.”
She pointed to the nested runic chains on screen and continued her analysis. “At the end of the Xia Dynasty, Void Rifts spiraled out of control in the Central Plains. The ancestors split the primordial Void Core Anchor, migrated south to Bashu and carved massive underground caverns to build a downgraded warding formation. The entire Ancient Shu civilization was sacrificed to power the array; bronze ritual vessels acted as energy nodes, and three thousand years of time was the cost to continuously divert Void impact and stabilize the Central Plains’ core seal.”
“In short, Sanxingdui was constructed from the start as a sacrificial containment cage,” Sage lifted her gaze to the rest of the unit and stated the age-old truth plainly. “It was born to wear away and be consumed, tasked with shielding humanity from endless darkness — survival was never its purpose, only sacrifice.”
A heavy silence fell over the survey chamber after her words.
The world marvels at Sanxingdui’s splendid, enigmatic bronze relics and laments the civilization’s sudden disappearance. Yet no one realizes this culture bore a sacrificial destiny from its very birth. Generations of ancestors rooted themselves in the wild southern frontier, pouring all their labor to build a silent barrier that protected the Central Plains for three thousand years at the cost of their own extinction.
Daipithy stood beside the pit’s safety cordon, golden bloodline runes burning hot against her palm. Her power resonated with underground energy veins, the cavern array and the rift’s Void power all at once. Countless fragmented echoes of the ancient ancestors flooded her mind — not complete visions, but their perseverance, resolve, endurance and grief, transmitted across three thousand years of history.
She could feel the seal’s exhaustion, sense the rift’s restlessness, and hear the ravenous darkness trapped deep below, thrashing to tear down the barrier and devour the mortal world.
“The cage will not hold for much longer,” Daipithy said in a deep, grounded voice shaped by her inherited bloodline. “Three thousand years of unceasing attrition have drained the formation’s foundations. Kaelor’s covert erosion is merely the final straw. He knows every flaw of the Wood Ruin Seal and every limitation of our Guardian bloodline. He waits for the formation to fully collapse and the Void Core Anchor to surface, to claim the reward of his three-thousand-year wait.”
The moment her words faded, the underground cavern shuddered violently once more.
This tremor was no gentle, rhythmic resonance — it was a sharp, piercing impact that rumbled through the bedrock. Water rippled wildly across the pit floor, fine dirt and stone fragments showered down from the shelter’s ceiling. Regular staff panicked instantly, dropping their tools and staring upward in confusion.
“Is this a minor earthquake?”
“The monitoring equipment doesn’t pick up any seismic waves at all!”
Murmurs of confusion rippled through the crowd. The physical shaking was undeniable, yet every monitoring device displayed stable readings — a contradiction that defied all conventional geological knowledge.
Banbandin’s face darkened as he stared at the terminal screen: “Void energy strikes have hit the formation’s critical damaged nodes, creating structural cracks in the outer seal. If this pressure persists, the surface barrier will fully collapse within seven days at most.”
Jam’s gaze sharpened like a blade as he finalized emergency tactics in a crisp, decisive tone: “Banbandin, deploy temporary warding barriers to block the rift’s spillage points and slow the seal’s decay. Sage, accelerate rune decryption to fully reconstruct the ancient formation and find repair loopholes. Bangbangtu, eliminate all perimeter scout posts and cut off the enemy’s long-distance energy transmission channels. Daipithy, anchor the subterranean energy veins and suppress Void unrest.”
“Understood!”
The four responded in unison, moving without hesitation with years of coordinated combat instinct to form a complete defensive loop.
Meanwhile, deep within the western mountain woods.
Thick foliage blocked all sunlight and human noise. Five shadowy figures stood silent atop rotting leaf litter, faint Void energy swirling around them, devoid of any trace of living warmth.
Kaelor stood at their center, pale and angular, silver-grey eyes piercing through branches to lock onto the turbulent excavation pit far in the distance. His slender pale fingers hovered mid-air, a black crystal rotating in his palm, channeling endless Void energy to remotely tamper with the underground sealing formation.
Three thousand years had passed since he watched the Ruin Guardian civilization fade and historical records erase the truth. The moment he had waited for had finally arrived.
“Captain,” one shadow operative knelt low and whispered a report. “The sealing array’s core cracks have fully activated, Void infiltration efficiency has spiked sharply. The Ruin Guardian Unit has launched emergency defenses, yet their countermeasures are passive and insufficient — they can only delay collapse, not fix the root flaw.”
Kaelor’s voice was low and graveled, heavy with three thousand years of hatred. “The more they repair the seal, the more bloodline energy they burn. The Dai bloodline acts as a vessel for the Void Core Anchor; every time they stabilize the seal, they drain their own life force.”
“The debt of three thousand years must be repaid.”
In ancient times, Kaelor had stood alongside the Dai ancestors as a Warden tasked with balancing seven realms. Yet he witnessed the unfair cycle of endless sacrifice, was erased from historical texts and exiled to the Void to endure solitary darkness, while the Dai clan were revered as righteous protectors. Resentment had festered in his heart for three millennia. He sought no total annihilation of humanity, only to overturn unfair fate, shatter the Guardians’ glory and seize the Void Core Anchor to rewrite three thousand years of history.
“Maintain this pressure,” Kaelor waved his hand as black currents churned around him. “Avoid head-on assaults. Wear down their patience and drain their strength until their barriers crumble. Once the Wood Ruin falls, the Erlitou primary seal will loosen in tandem, and the barriers between realms will split wide open — no one can stand in my way.”
“We obey your orders,” the four shadow figures bowed their heads, then scattered into the woods to continue full-scale Void infiltration and remote erosion.
Wind sighed through the mountain forest, dark tides surging unseen.
The excavation pit blazed with lights, a facade of mundane peace.
Light and shadow stood opposed, locked in a three-thousand-year-long game of fate, tugging at each other’s strings step by step.
The Ruin Guardian Unit knew they faced no ordinary Void monsters or low-level spawns. Their adversary was a former Warden steeped in every secret of the sealing arrays, familiar with every Guardian tactic, and patient enough to lie dormant for three millennia. Kaelor understood the dual ruin formation, every weakness of the Guardian bloodline, and every vulnerability they possessed.
This was a life-or-death standoff with zero room for error.
Daipithy (female lead, sole inheritor of Ruin Guardian Bloodline)
Jam (Captain of Ruin Guardian Unit, codenamed Mountain God King)
Sage (Unit runic decipherer, codenamed River Goddess)
Banbandin (Unit equipment & structural technician)
Bangbangtu (perimeter wilderness combat specialist)
Kaelor (leader of Orb Reavers, Fallen Ancient Realm Warden)
Sanxingdui Archaeological Site
Sacrificial Pit No.3
Erlitou Site
Ancient Shu Civilization
Xia Dynasty
Void Core Anchor ORB
Wood Ruin Seal
Void Rift
Void energy
Orb Reavers
Ruin Guardian Unit
Ruin Guardian Bloodline
Ancient seal runes
Rammed earth
Stratigraphic scanner
Underground man-made cavern