Shrouded Sky - Chapter 10 - Desolation
The pitch-black interior of the bronze coffin and outer casing gradually fell silent.
No one spoke again.
Everyone was filled with fear, staring at the bronze coffin meant to hold the corpse.
The heavy breathing from the crowd made it clear—each person was extremely tense.
The bronze coffin was mottled with green patina—what kind of person was buried inside it?
“All of this must be related to the five-colored altar on Mount Tai.”
After a long while, people began whispering in low voices, trying to figure out why all of this had happened.
“That’s right. It must be connected to the five-colored ancient altar. It’s what summoned the nine dragon corpses and the bronze coffin.”
What they had witnessed was far too bizarre, violently shaking everyone’s understanding of reality.
The five-colored altar had been built by ancient ancestors—its mysteries were seemingly endless.
Ye Fan thought of many things. How many unknown secrets were hidden in the forgotten ancient history?
With no immediate danger present, everyone gradually calmed down and began seriously speculating about what they were seeing.
“Maybe… the dragon-drawn coffin was summoned by the ancient ancestors.”
As soon as someone said that, another quickly refuted it: “Those ancient people have been dead for who knows how many years.”
“I mean that the dragon-drawn coffin is late. It’s only appearing now, as a response to the ancients’ call.”
When a female classmate suggested this, everyone was stunned.
A calling from the ancient ancestors— a delayed arrival of the nine dragons and the bronze coffin— a response crossing thousands of years.
It all sounded too unbelievable!
“We don’t know the truth. Everything is just speculation. There could be many explanations.”
“Yes, maybe the dragon-drawn coffin has nothing to do with the ancients. Maybe it returned on its own.”
“Did you see those bronze carvings? There were ancient people, archaic gods—many of the figures had tear marks carved into them. It made you feel a sense of sorrow and melancholy, as if they were telling a long-forgotten story.”
“Maybe it’s true. The dragon-drawn coffin broke through the obstacles of the heavens… returning to its homeland! A bl00d-stained story of the past…”
Could it be that the ancient ancestors truly had unknown methods and managed to explore a distant, unknown land?
The dragon-drawn coffin returning home… born to leave, only bones return, wrapped in a shroud, coming back.
As they talked, their fear diminished slightly, and they began imagining various possibilities.
Still, they felt deep reverence toward the bronze coffin in the center.
No one dared to touch it—let alone open it.
“I think the rescue team must have reached Mount Tai by now. Maybe they’re already nearby.”
“Let’s hope nothing goes wrong, and they get us out of here quickly.”
The group had no way to escape the bronze coffin.
The coffin structure stood eight to nine meters high, sealed by its lid, making escape impossible.
Just as everyone was hoping for rescue, the bronze coffin suddenly shook violently.
No one could stay on their feet—they staggered, and many fell to the ground.
“What’s happening? What’s going on?” people cried out in confusion.
Some female classmates were already sobbing and clung tightly to those beside them.
“Are the rescuers here? Are they trying to save us?”
As fear and anxiety grew, the coffin’s shaking intensified.
No one could stay upright—everyone fell down, forced into contact with the cold bronze floor.
Bang!
A deafening shock hit, like a plane flying through cold clouds and icing over, causing constant turbulence.
Boom!
A final massive jolt—like thunder crashing down, as if trying to shatter all physical matter.
It was clear the bronze coffin had just endured a tremendous collision.
But just then, inside the pitch-black coffin, the bronze carvings emitted faint glimmers of light—
—light that instantly neutralized an unimaginably powerful impact.
Everyone was stunned.
Just moments ago it had felt like the world would flip over—yet in an instant, everything calmed.
It created a strange sense of unreality.
“No, something definitely happened! That impact was terrifying—how did it suddenly stop?”
“It wasn’t an illusion. The bronze coffin really did flip and collide violently several times. But somehow, we weren’t affected.”
Just then, the group was shocked to see that the inner bronze coffin—the one meant for burial—was hanging on the inner wall of the outer casing.
It was fixed firmly in place and hadn’t fallen.
“The bronze coffin casing must have tipped over. The inner coffin is probably securely fastened to the bottom of the outer coffin and doesn’t move.
So after the outer coffin tilted, it now appears to be hanging on the side wall.”
This explained just how intense that impact had been.
And yet, the weak glow from the bronze carvings had neutralized the force—that was truly unbelievable.
“Light! There’s light coming in from outside!” Li Xiaoman shouted.
Everyone turned to look where she was gazing.
Sure enough, faint rays of light were shining through the darkness.
“The giant bronze coffin tipped over. The lid is slightly off—there’s a gap! We’re saved!”
The lid had shifted from its original position, leaving a gap wide enough for two people to walk out side by side.
However, the outside was still very dim, so not much light entered the coffin.
Cheers erupted from the group.
They rushed forward, scrambling to escape the cold and terrifying space, unwilling to stay another second.
But once they exited the bronze coffin, they all froze like statues.
The ground appeared to have been stained by bl00d, dark red and hard, cold and lifeless.
The scenery was desolate and empty—massive rocks scattered across the land, resembling tombstones.
The light in this world was dim and dusky, as if twilight was shrouded in faint black mist.
Everyone stood dumbfounded.
This couldn’t possibly be the summit of Mount Tai!
Stretching before them was a vast reddish-brown land, desolate and still—no signs of life anywhere.
It was a place they had never seen or heard of.
Completely unfamiliar, completely mysterious.
“Where… is this? Did we… leave Mount Tai?”
The speaker’s voice was trembling.
“Did rescuers move us to an uninhabited area, in case the nine dragon corpses posed a danger?”
But even the person saying that couldn’t convince themselves.
Everyone felt an ominous sense that something terrible had happened to them.
In that moment, many people tried dialing out on their phones—
—but it was impossible. No signal.
“This isn’t Mount Tai. Where are we?”
Panic spread.
There was no joy in escaping the coffin—only dread.
It had only been fifteen minutes since they were trapped.
But now, the scene before them was entirely different.
Mount Tai—so grand, towering, and majestic—was gone.
Before them lay a flat, undulating wasteland of gravel.
Ye Fan silently observed everything.
His ominous feeling had come true.
Back on Mount Tai, when he saw the Yin-Yang Trigram diagram forming a massive dark passage, he had already feared the worst.
Though he hadn’t actually seen the dragon-drawn coffin enter that mysterious portal—there was no doubt now.
This was not Mount Tai.
They were no longer even on Earth.