The pure heart vine in Yu Nian's arms extended small branches, gently wrapping around Bai Cheng's wrist. A clear intent was transmitted from the silver-white flower bud: "I... can soothe the madness."

Bai Cheng looked at them, the star tracks swirling within her silver eyes before finally transforming into a warm and steady light.

"Alright." She turned toward the train. "Target: Sighing Cliff."

The silver train slowly departed from the Faith Crystal Space, re-entering the thick darkness of the Sunken Bone District.

This time, the road ahead was not a mass of chaos.

Bai Cheng stood before the main control console, the phantom of the Star Rail Gate unfolding slightly behind her.

Inside the gate, the amber flame of those ancient embers swayed gently, emitting a mild yet resilient light that pierced through the surrounding gelatin and bone debris like a lighthouse.

Wherever the light reached, the wandering ghostly green phosphorus fires, the divine pollution attempting to attach itself, and even the twisted lingering thoughts hidden in the shadows all retreated quietly, like shadows fearing the sunlight.

"The starfire... is dispersing the darkness." Leng Ningxue's icy eyes reflected the constantly changing energy readings on the light screen.

"Pollution index has dropped by 17%, and the spatial turbulence is stabilizing."

"The resonance of the embers has allowed this land of death... to briefly remember order."

Bai Cheng could feel that the ancient flame within the Star Rail Gate was faintly echoing with a distant existence deep within the Sunken Bone District—the direction of the Sighing Cliff.

It wasn't a friendly summons, but a heavy and sorrowful resonance, like two souls bearing the same fate gazing at each other in the darkness.

"Accelerate," she ordered softly. "We must reach the Sighing Cliff and ignite the second cluster of starfire before the pursuers break through."

Under the protection of the starfire, the train pierced deeper into the Sunken Bone District like a sharp sword.

Outside the portholes, the scenery began to change.

The skeletons gradually became sparse, replaced by a dark purple, translucent crystalline substance.

They grew up from the seabed like giant coral trees, with countless curled, fetus-like shadows hanging between the branches.

Those shadows had no faces, only blurred outlines. When the train's starfire light swept past, they would tremble slightly and emit faint whimpers like a crying infant.

"It's Infant Grudge Coral." Leng Ningxue pulled up the database.

"Soul fragments of young children who died prematurely in the ancient war, cursed creations formed by combining with the divine pollution of the trench."

"They are not aggressive, but they release emotional waves of sadness and despair that erode the minds of living beings."

Before she could finish, an indescribable grief filled the carriage.

Qingniao bit his teeth as lightning exploded across his body, attempting to dispel the emotion. "This damn place... is even more uncomfortable than the skeletons from before."

The pure heart vine in Yu Nian's arms grew rapidly, its silver-white buds blooming and emitting ripples of soft silver light that enveloped everyone.

When those sorrowful waves touched the halo, they quietly melted like ice and snow meeting the sun.

"Thank you." Bai Cheng looked at Yu Nian, who shook her head gently, the vines wrapping even tighter.

The train continued forward.

The Infant Grudge Coral forest gradually thinned, and a massive upward-sloping incline appeared ahead.

The slope was composed of a pitch-black rock that looked as if it had been repeatedly scorched by fire, its surface covered in honeycomb-like holes.

From each hole seeped a dark red, viscous liquid, like a wound that would never heal.

At the top of the slope, the silhouette of a broken cliff emerged in the darkness.

The cliff was thousands of feet high, its precipice as straight as if cut by a blade. The cliff face was covered in crisscrossing cracks that emitted a faint ghostly blue light, like countless eyes staring in the dark.

Atop the cliff, dozens of dilapidated stone monuments were faintly visible, their bodies tilted as if they might plunge into the abyss below at any moment.

A heavy, tragic, yet madly hateful aura surged from the direction of the cliff.

"Sighing Cliff..." Bai Cheng whispered. "We've arrived."

The train stopped at the base of the slope.

This time, the protection of the starfire seemed to have failed.

The aura emanating from the cliff bypassed the train's shields and starfire light without resistance, pressing directly upon everyone's souls.

It wasn't an attack, but a kind of... heavy empathy.

In an instant, everyone saw a vision:

The dark canopy of the sky was torn apart, and the rift of the abyss opened like a giant maw, with countless twisted monsters surging out.

Warriors in silver armor formed a defensive line. They held hands and sang ancient war songs, their souls turning into chains and their flesh into a barrier, forcefully stalling the expansion of the rift for a moment.

Then came the sacrifice—a collective and resolute sacrifice.

Souls burned, flesh disintegrated, and the last bit of true spirit merged into the cliff rock, becoming an eternal seal.

But the hatred of the abyss also eroded their final obsession.

Over thousands of years of suppression and confrontation, those pure beliefs of protection were gradually polluted by °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° the madness of the abyss, turning into twisted existences that both hated the abyss and craved revenge.

The vision shattered.

Bai Cheng's face turned slightly pale, the Star Rail Gate deep within her soul vibrating violently. The amber ember light within flickered, transmitting a kindred sorrow and... caution.

"They... are still there." She looked toward the cliff top. "The embers of the Abyssal Wardens have not dissipated; they have just... changed."

Veins bulged on Zi Yuan's hand as she gripped her blade. "How do we deal with this?"

Bai Cheng remained silent for a moment, the star tracks swirling in her silver eyes.

"Face them directly," she said softly. "Using the starfire as a guide and our protection as proof, awaken the original intentions buried by their hatred."

"This time, I will go alone."

"Miss!"

"Bai Cheng!"

Her companions spoke simultaneously.

Bai Cheng turned to look at them, her silver hair falling like a galaxy in the dim light of the carriage.

"The trial of the Sighing Cliff is for the successor. If I cannot pass it alone, I will not be worthy of igniting this second cluster of starfire."

She paused, her voice calm and firm.

"If I fail... evacuate the Silent Trench immediately and go to the Forgotten Corridor. There is still a third cluster of starfire there, and it is our last hope."

Without giving anyone a chance to object, Bai Cheng pushed open the train door and stepped onto the pitch-black, blood-seeping rock slope.

The phantom of the Star Rail Gate fully unfolded behind her. For the first time, the amber flame within the gate left the portal, turning into a warm halo that enveloped her entire body.

She walked upward step by step.

With every step, the hatred and madness coming from the cliff top grew stronger, as if countless hands were reaching out from the void to drag her into eternal resentment.

But she did not stop.

Deep in her soul, the prayers of Broken Shell Island whispered, General Ao Qin's sincerity burned, the warmth of the ancient embers supported her, along with the thousands of glimmers she had witnessed along the way.

Those living beings still struggling in the storm, those lights that refused to be extinguished.