Moon and Isabelle arrived at the entrance to the underground bunker. Both of them paused before going in, their eyes scanning the surrounding terrain carefully.
The rocky outcrops, and even the sky above.
Thankfully, nothing moved. There were no pale figures with diamond symbols watching from a distance.
Only when they were sure did they slip inside.
The narrow passage swallowed them, and the howling wind faded behind them as they descended. The stale air of the tunnels replaced it.
The main chamber was quieter than before. Most of the groups that had been eating and laughing were gone, likely returned to hunting or headed back to Earth for the day. The fire pit where Joseph and his companions had been sitting was cold.
The only ones who remained were the others.
They sat in their usual spots against the walls, scattered across the chamber floor in the sa positions Moon had seen them in hours ago. The sa hollow faces, heavy eyebags. And most importantly, the sa eyes that stared at nothing.
Moon glanced at them as he passed.
They look even more drained than before.
He hadn't thought that was possible. But sohow, in the hours since he had left, whatever faint spark had still flickered behind those eyes had dimd further. They weren't just people who had given up anymore. They were husks, breathing out of habit rather than will.
Moon and Isabelle found an empty corner of the chamber, far from the broken ones and out of earshot of anyone who might wander in. Moon sat down with his back against the wall while Isabelle lowered herself carefully, wincing as her injuries reminded her they were still there.
Moon didn't waste ti. He asked his questions right away, "How are spirits able to track other spirits after death?"
Isabelle leaned her head back against the stone. "The Association isn't entirely sure about the specifics. But the biggest theory, the one with the most evidence behind it, has to do with the diamonds on their foreheads."
She tapped a finger against the center of her own forehead.
"The diamonds alter the physical body of the spirit. They leave traces throughout the entire body, embedded in the flesh, the bones, everything. Those traces can be tracked by other spirits. It's like a signature that doesn't fade even after death."
Moon's eyes narrowed. "So removing the head and keeping the rest of the body wouldn't help."
"Exactly. The traces are everywhere. You could cut the diamond out, take the head off, carve the body into pieces. It wouldn't matter. As long as any part of the body exists, they can find it."
She paused for a mont before continuing.
"As for how they know when one of their own dies, it's believed to be linked to the pavilion spirit itself. Every spirit connected to a pavilion shares so kind of bond with the ruling spirit. When one of them is killed, the others are notified. Instantly."
Moon sat in silence, processing the information.
That ant the spirits from the pavilion already knew. The mont he had killed the spirit in that clearing, every other spirit connected to the castle on the peak had felt it.
And the body he had sent galloping across the island on a horse had been a beacon the entire ti.
At that mont, Moon realized he had been closer to death than he ever imagined.
The Second Sanctuary was proving to be deserving of every horrible title it carried, and every grim survival statistic attached to it. It was no wonder that many Evolvers chose to register, collect their salary, and never hunt again.
A good wage back on Earth, and living a quiet life was an understandable dream for people to have. Not everyone chased after greatness. Others chased after settlent.
This place was too dangerous for solo hunters. Near impossible, in fact.
"Alright, that's settled. What about spirits? Why do they provide so few lives compared to beasts?"
Isabelle tilted her head. "You're asking a lot of questions. How long have you actually been here? In the Second Sanctuary?"
Moon was quiet for a mont. "Seven hours? Sothing like that. Why?"
"…"
Isabelle stared at him. The silence stretched between them for a long second.
Internally, her mind was reeling. The man has been here for less than half a day. Yet he was able to cast spells powerful enough to kill a level 32 spirit, planned a multi-stage ambush using runes, doppelgangers, and lightning, and he hasn't even had ti to fill a single acupoint properly.
Although she considered herself more talented than the average Evolver, Isabelle felt sothing she hadn't felt in a long ti. Inferiority. It crept up through her chest and settled in her throat.
'This kind of talent is scary.'
Moon waved his hand in front of her face. "So? You haven't answered my question."
She blinked. "Huh? Which question?"
"About spirits providing fewer lives."
"Aah, right." Isabelle straightened up against the wall. "Well, spirits don't provide many lives. That's true. But it isn't because they're weak, or because they're useless to us humans." She looked at Moon directly.
"It's quite the opposite."
"Although spirits provide very few lives, what they give instead is sothing every Evolver craves." Isabelle held up a finger. "Spiritual energy. Spirits carry an abundance of spiritual energy that no other creature in the Second Sanctuary can match. Not beasts, not monsters, nothing. That's what makes them such valuable kills despite the low life count. A single spirit can fill more of your acupoints than a dozen beasts of the sa level."
Moon nodded slowly. That lined up with what he had experienced. The wolves had given him small trickles of spiritual energy. The PanPig had given him almost nothing. But the spirit had flooded his acupoint with more energy than every other kill combined.
"Also," Isabelle continued, "you know the spiritual stone you took from the spirit's chest?"
"It also contains spiritual energy. A concentrated amount that can be extracted and used directly for cultivation." She glanced at his ring. "You can absorb it manually to fill your acupoints, or you can sell it. Either way, it's worth far more than whatever lives the spirit gave you."
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