Chapter 33 Entering the Temple of the Fairy Tribe!

Fu Yunsheng gazed at the lifeless group, lost in thought. Their luck seemed to be inexplicably worsening. Even without any external force to disrupt them, the straps of some scavengers' backpacks would suddenly snap. When the scavengers rushed to retrieve their fallen bags, they would step into a muddy puddle or bump into a beehive. Although none of these incidents were fatal, Fu Yunsheng sensed that the morale of their already disorganized team was deteriorating. Whispers of complaint had begun to arise among the scavengers.

"Is this some new curse?" Fu Yunsheng pondered. "But curses typically only affect a specific area; how could it still be in effect after we have passed through several regions?" When had their misfortunes begun? Fu Yunsheng started to recall the moment when the explosive debris had flashed in his mind. "That's right, it started from that moment!"

"Is this curse from that kid? Could he be a curse caster?"

"Or does he possess some equipment that brings us bad luck? But when would that equipment take effect?" He naturally thought of the various items picked up by the scavengers. Fu Yunsheng immediately called for the team to halt.

"Throw away everything we just picked up!" The scavengers exchanged puzzled glances, seeking an explanation.

"Just throw it away! Otherwise, we might run into serious trouble!" Fu Yunsheng insisted. He wasn't entirely sure that their bad luck was caused by those items, but he preferred to err on the side of caution.

"Boss, if I throw away these clothes, I'll be left naked," one scavenger said with a grimace. He was the unfortunate one who had just been splattered by debris from the dark guardian. His clothes were enveloped in a foul stench, forcing him to wear an outer garment discarded by Wang Chen and a pair of shorts.

Fu Yunsheng frowned and said, "Someone give him a set of clothes. When we get back to camp, come to me for a new set." The scavengers rummaged through their belongings, but they were there to work, not to go on a hiking trip, so they hadn’t brought any spare clothes. After a while, one scavenger finally unearthed a wrinkled pair of pants, which had been forgotten in his backpack for some time.

The pants were handed over to the unfortunate scavenger, who quickly put them on and, with a mournful expression, asked, "Is there nothing for the top?"

Everyone shook their heads, and for now, he would have to go shirtless.

Seeing that the items had been discarded, Fu Yunsheng began to explain his suspicion. The scavengers suddenly realized the situation, and their remorse over losing the items lessened. After all, being bitten by a beaver was indeed painful, and if they pressed on, their terrible luck could lead to even bigger troubles—perhaps even costing them their lives.

They began to angrily curse Wang Chen: "Damn, who would have thought that kid, looking so refined, could be so sinister!"

"What do you know? It's always the seemingly harmless ones that are the most cunning!"

"I must give him a beating before I kill him."

The scavengers all chattered away, seemingly forgetting that they had initially intended to extort Wang Chen and had later considered robbing him.

"Alright, that's enough. Let's keep moving," Fu Yunsheng instructed. "If you see anything else he discarded, don't pick it up." The group agreed, and they continued on their way. Little did they know that the butterfly powder, which was bringing them such misfortune, had firmly attached itself to them as they came into contact with the discarded items. Unless the powder lost its potency, their string of bad luck would persist.

Fu Yunsheng walked in silence. He had to believe that Wang Chen had already noticed them. However, he had chosen not to confront them directly, which might indicate that Wang Chen lacked the confidence to fight them. This meant that Wang Chen had no trump card to hold over them. Thinking this way lifted Fu Yunsheng’s spirits slightly.

As Wang Chen advanced, the overcast sky gradually cleared. It wouldn't be right to say that the sun shone brightly, but at least it was no longer as dark as the Marsh of the Dead. His gaze could finally settle on the distance, where a building appeared on the horizon.

"Could this be the place? The Spring of Vitality, the ancient spirit temple of the fairies." Wang Chen hurried toward the structure. As he approached, the full scale of the building came into view. It was a massive stone structure supported by enormous columns with grooves, seemingly made of marble. The slanted roof above was constructed from the same material, forming gables at either end, adorned with murals. However, over time, erosion and other factors had rendered the murals difficult to discern, only vaguely suggesting themes related to rituals.

When Wang Chen spotted a small figure with pointed ears depicted in the murals, he knew he had arrived at the temple of the fairy race. He ascended the enormous stone steps and entered the temple. Perhaps long ago, the temple had doors, but it had endured some unknown calamity—whether war or disaster—leaving only the massive frame, resembling the skeletal remains of a giant.

Wang Chen stepped inside the temple without hesitation. Once inside, the temple was far more imposing than it appeared from the outside. Columns towering ten meters high lifted the roof, and the space under the eaves felt surprisingly open due to its depth, rather than oppressive.

Half of the ridge of the temple roof had vanished, and sunlight streamed in from above, illuminating the dust floating in the air, transforming it into countless ethereal beams. Even if the ridge still existed, the interior would not feel dark, for both sides of the stone walls were carved with intricately designed windows that ensured ample natural light.

Wang Chen gazed toward the center of the temple. There stood a structure resembling an altar. He walked on the dust-covered stone slabs, each step stirring up clouds of dust; anyone with allergies would surely suffer. As he approached, a faint sound of water reached his ears.

"Could this be the Spring of Vitality?" Wang Chen wondered, eagerly moving toward the altar.

Atop the altar was a wide stone platform. In the center, streams of water flowed from within the platform, channeling into troughs on either side and flowing into dark channels of unknown destination. Wang Chen examined the water closely, feeling a wave of warmth that caressed his skin like a gentle spring breeze.

"This unmistakable aura of vitality must be the Spring of Vitality," Wang Chen thought, feeling a surge of happiness. He looked toward the source of the flowing water, located in the center of the stone platform, flanked by three candle holders on three sides.

The three candle holders contained candles made from some unknown oil that had burned for a long time without diminishing. As the candles burned, wisps of black smoke curled up from the flames, encircling the Spring of Vitality. The vibrant essence of the spring seemed to be confined within the area of the black smoke.

Wang Chen reached out toward the black smoke, but the moment he touched it, a wave of dizziness and fear washed over him. Simultaneously, an irresistible force pushed Wang Chen away. It seemed evident that this black smoke was the seal of the Spring of Vitality.