Phrolova's guidance was not a smooth path. Hidden and winding, the route threaded through the Proving Ground's abandoned pipe networks, massive water storage chambers, and corridors lined with bizarre incubation cabins.
The residual Threnodian energy permeating the air grew increasingly thick. Like invisible kelp, it tangled around one's nerves, attempting to pour chaotic whispers directly into the mind.
"These noises... are truly unpleasant," Phrolova complained softly. Her fingertips unconsciously brushed against the cold metal wall beside her, as if comforting some unseen presence, or perhaps trying to quell her own chaotic inner turmoil.
Her footsteps were slightly unsteady; clearly, her injuries were still affecting her.
Rover followed silently a few paces behind her. This distance allowed him to react in time to any sudden emergencies while maintaining an appropriate level of vigilance.
His sharp gaze swept over every corner. The fragments of future memories in his mind gave him a premonition of certain approaching dangers.
"Left." He suddenly reached out and grabbed Phrolova's arm just as she was about to turn right.
Phrolova hadn't anticipated his movement. Her body stiffened slightly, and she instinctively tried to break free, but Rover quickly let go.
Almost at the exact same moment, several sharp crossbow bolts coursing with Resonance power shot out from the shadows of the right-hand corridor. They embedded themselves deeply into the wall right where they had just been standing, punching craters several inches deep.
Phrolova glanced back at the still-quivering tails of the bolts, then looked at the expressionless Rover. A flash of surprise and suspicion crossed her uncovered eye.
"...Not bad combat intuition," she finally commented indifferently, not pressing the matter.
"It's not intuition." Rover stepped past her, Blood Pact slipping silently into his hand. He pointed the tip of his blade toward the heavy footsteps echoing from the depths of the left corridor. "Just experience."
Several Convent of the Hidden Sea envoys surged out. Their eyes were vacant and their movements stiff, exactly like marionettes whose strings were being pulled.
Some wielded swords and blades, while others fired arrows. Their chaotic attacks lacked any coherent strategy, yet carried a desperate, reckless madness.
A battle with the Convent guards instantly broke out.
Rover's sword light was like thunder tearing through the darkness, precisely and efficiently dismantling the enemy's offensive.
Whether intentionally or not, he kept Phrolova shielded on the flank of the combat zone, sparing her from the brunt of the frontal assault.
Phrolova wasn't idle either. She didn't directly participate in the melee; instead, she gently waved the spider lily baton in her hand.
Bizarre Resonance fluctuations gradually rippled outward. The malfunctioning facilities of the Proving Ground seemingly came alive.
A blast door plummeted from the ceiling, temporarily blocking the pursuers from behind. Several out-of-control energy conduits spewed scorching steam before triggering a small-scale explosion, forcing back the enemies pouncing from the flank.
Her assistance was precise and ingenious. She always managed to neutralize crises at the critical moment with minimal exertion, as if conducting a silent symphony that turned the environment itself into a weapon.
"It seems your tuning is much more adept at dealing with dead objects than living people," Rover glanced at her during a lull in the fighting, his tone carrying a faint hint of approval.
"The frequencies of all things have traces that can be followed," Phrolova replied softly. Her face seemed to pale a bit further as she shuffled her feet, leaning against a nearby control console while panting slightly. "I am merely returning them to their original rhythm... Although, the movement of this place has long been altered beyond recognition by Finlay."
After disposing of this batch of cannon fodder guards, a massive blast door appeared before the two of them. The door was covered in a thick layer of unknown biological slime and pulsating energy veins. Clearly, the Convent had locked down this passageway.
"Tch, troublesome." Phrolova frowned. She tried tapping the door lightly with her baton, but the energy veins merely fluctuated violently before solidifying even further. "Forcing our way through will attract more attention, and..." She glanced at her slightly trembling hand. "I am not in the best condition right now."
Rover stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the access control system before him.
Although most of its functions had been artificially destroyed and rendered ineffective, an old physical manual valve appeared to still be operable, though it looked clogged by some foul substance.
"Perhaps it doesn't need to be that complicated," he said. The tip of his blade precisely pried open the corroded panel, revealing the intricate mechanisms inside.
"I need your tuning," he said to Phrolova.
Phrolova froze for a moment before instantly grasping his intent.
She took a deep breath and raised her baton. The phantom of a spider lily slowly bloomed behind her, and an ethereal, sorrowful melody began to echo low within the space.
The melody was not an attack, but rather a form of soothing and guidance. It elegantly untangled the chaotic, violent energy on the door, returning it to a state of temporary calm and creating a window for Rover's operation.
Rover's hands didn't stop moving. He leveraged the valve, clearing out the unknown blockage material.
His movements were rapid and practiced, as if he already knew exactly what to do.
Watching his back, the confusion in Phrolova's eyes deepened.
He understood far too much—the environment of this Proving Ground, where the enemies would appear, the Convent's methods, and even... her abilities.
What exactly had he encountered after leaving? Why did he know about the things here? Where did this change in him come from?
With a soft click, Rover successfully turned the manual valve.
The heavy blast door emitted a harsh screech of metal friction, slowly opening a crack inward.
The scene behind the door was heart-stopping. It wasn't a corridor, but a massive space filled with gigantic, egg-shaped incubation cabins.
Immersed in the liquid inside the cabins were not ordinary Echoes, but grotesque creations fusing the traits of both humans and Tacet Discords.
The air was thick with a pungent mixture of intense life energy and the stench of decay. The boundaries between human and Tacet Discord had become blurred. While they appeared to be merging into one, they were actually violently rejecting each other, ultimately devolving into twisted monsters that were neither human nor ghost.
"...Truly, a mad masterpiece." Phrolova furrowed her brow. Her voice carried a nearly imperceptible tremble—not of fear, but of profound sorrow. "Splicing life and frequency together so brutally... Is this the 'connection' the Convent pursues?"
Although she said this, her gaze quietly drifted to Rover beside her, and she asked seemingly casually, "The fusion of humans and Tacet Discords... seeking rebirth for life in another form. Could this... actually succeed?"
Rover's face darkened.
The fragments of future memories overlapped with the scene before him, causing his stomach to churn.
Hearing Phrolova's words, he turned his head to look at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It seems we've found the right place. This place hides more than just the secret of the gemstone."
"As for the fusion of humans and Tacet Discords... If this kind of madness could somehow consistently result in newborns maintaining a perfectly complete human form, it might be worth discussing. But looking at these grotesque states, worse than ghosts..."
"All I can say is that attempting to defy the natural laws of birth, aging, illness, and death will inevitably demand this kind of price."
"..."
Hearing the undisguised disgust in Rover's answer, Phrolova gripped her arm, lowering her head and falling into a momentary silence.
"Perhaps. But right now, there is still more... noise here that needs to be cleared out," Phrolova picked up the conversation. She looked at Rover, but this time, aside from calculation and probing, there seemed to be something else in her gaze. "We need to pick up the pace."
"Let's go," Rover took the lead, stepping into this unsettling area. "We end this quickly."
Phrolova followed closely behind. The faint light of the spider lily gathered in her hand, illuminating the silently wailing shadows inside the cabins.
One after the other, their silhouettes disappeared into this deep shadow forged from madness and life.
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