"That was hardly satisfying," Blackwing said, setting down his great hammer with a disdainful curl of his lip.
A nearby Treasure Hoarder grinned. "If you're looking for a real fight, Boss, you could always head to Lingju Pass. I hear a Stonehide Lawachurl has been spotted there recently." This drew laughter from the others.
Blackwing swatted the man good-naturedly. "Get out of here! That's a high-level monster evolved from Hilichurls. I'd be no match for it." He had a clear understanding of his own strength. He wasn't a Vision holder; his power came from years of hard physical training. Handling a Mitachurl was one thing, but facing a Stonehide Lawachurl meant certain death. His complaint about the fight being unsatisfying stemmed from the nature of ley line manifestations; the strength of the monsters depended on the energy released. The Mitachurl he'd just killed hadn't been particularly strong, just as the Hilichurls Robert faced were weak enough to be cut down like weeds.
"Old Zhang, how much longer?" Blackwing asked, turning back to the middle-aged man after joking with his crew.
Old Zhang pursed his lips. "Don't rush me." He flipped through the notes his assistant had just handed him. "The tremor just now was triggered because we deciphered part of this statue's true nature." He looked at the record. "According to the interpretation, this statue is likely a Yaksha, one with the authority to patrol the skies. Figuring out exactly which one will probably require checking historical records," he added, frowning.
Blackwing sighed in frustration. "I'm telling you, if it doesn't work, we should just blast our way in." The ancient structure was sturdy, but with enough explosives, they could get in.
Old Zhang immediately shook his head. "No. If we cause an accident, we could all die here." For an ordinary ruin, he might have agreed. But this place bore the marks of the Adepti. Who knew what kind of monster might be sealed inside? Blasting in was far too dangerous.
"Then at least give me a timeline! It's been six months! If this goes on much longer, the Blackwing Troupe will go bankrupt!" Dozens of people consumed a significant amount of Mora every day for food and supplies. Only Blackwing's past successes allowed them to sustain this; most Treasure Hoarder bands wouldn't last this long.
Old Zhang frowned. "The moment we identify who this statue represents, we can enter. We've already figured out the ritual steps for paying respects and the sequence for lighting the stone tablets. We're only missing this final piece." He looked at Blackwing. "Look, we've already deciphered part of it. Just hold on a little longer."
Reluctantly, Blackwing nodded. They'd already invested so much effort; it was like waiting for a payment—you couldn't just walk away now.
Robert listened to their conversation, the words 'authority to patrol the skies' echoing in his mind. He looked again at the majestic stone statue, the sense of familiarity growing stronger.
'This... could it be... a Bixi?'
A spark of inspiration flashed. He finally remembered. Before crossing over, hoping to earn extra money, he'd considered writing a novel and had read the Classic of Mountains and Seas for research. It described a mythical beast:
Bixi
Appearance: Dragon's head, horse's body, scaled feet, shape resembles a lion, grey-white fur.
Abilities: Possesses the power of flight, fierce and majestic, tasked with patrolling the heavens to prevent demons, evil spirits, plagues, and diseases from disturbing the celestial court.
The description of the Bixi matched the statue before him perfectly. The 'authority to patrol the skies' also aligned. Furthermore, it was well-known that Liyue's culture was a reflection of his own world's ancient China.
The name 'Bixi' was on the tip of his tongue, but he held it back. Although he was currently with the Treasure Hoarders, he wasn't truly one of them. Joining was for self-preservation, not to build a career. There was no future in it.
Robert lowered his head, remaining silent.
He didn't notice that the moment the name 'Bixi' formed in his mind, a faint stream of light seemed to flash within the stone statue's giant eyes. But as Robert swallowed the name, refusing to speak it aloud, the light struggled for a moment before fading away completely.
As the discussion between Blackwing and Old Zhang concluded, Old Zhang and his team returned to their research. Blackwing led his men to the side to eat and drink. There was little else for them to do but kill time.
Robert naturally joined them. The food here, where the boss was, was a cut above. Though it was simple roasted meat, it was incredibly flavorful—far better than the five-Mora skewers with four measly slices of pork belly from his past life. It was not only delicious but plentiful and filling.
As he ate, Robert sidled up to a Treasure Hoarder Potioneer. He'd seen this one take out several Hilichurls with his elemental bottles; his skill was undeniable.
"Big brother, is it hard to make those elemental potions?" Robert asked with a friendly grin.
The Potioneer shook his head. "What's hard about it? It's mostly about having steady hands. The most important things for making elemental bottles are the materials and a steady hand. If your hands aren't steady during preparation, it'll explode... and you'll be the one getting blown up." He looked at Robert with a smile. "What's the matter, Blade? Want to learn?"
He remembered Blackwing's introduction. Robert leaned in a little closer. "The thought had crossed my mind. What should I call you, big brother?"
The Treasure Hoarders had many skills, but aside from demolition, the Potioneer's art was probably the most valuable. Robert genuinely wanted to learn it. Once he left the Treasure Hoarders, having such a skill could help him get by, maybe even earn a decent living.
"Call me Blackgrass. Who brought you into the troupe?" Blackgrass asked.
"Scar brought me in," Robert replied. Among the higher-ups, besides Blackwing, he only knew Scar. Guys like Ironhead and the tattooed gamblers? Sorry, not really acquainted.
"Scar?" Blackgrass raised an eyebrow. "Then why learn from me? You should learn directly from him."
Robert was taken aback. "Scar is a Potioneer too?"
Blackgrass said, a bit exasperated, "Scar is our troupe's chief Potioneer. He just doesn't handle it much himself these days. I learned from him."
Robert was speechless. When he'd met Scar, the man hadn't seemed like a Potioneer at all, what with the dagger at his belt. 'Wait, that explains the faint elemental scent I noticed in the cell. It must have been on Scar.'
Nearby, Blackwing seemed to have overheard their conversation. He chuckled. "Blade, you want to learn potion-making? Fine. After our shift, go find Scar. Tell him I said it was okay."
Blackwing had seen Robert take down several Hilichurls during the fight. He was inclined to nurture a young man who was both brave and capable. Besides, a Treasure Hoarder troupe could never have too many Potioneers. One more person who could use elemental attacks was always a valuable asset.
"Really? Thank you so much, Boss!" Robert exclaimed gratefully.
Blackwing waved a hand, still smiling, and raised his skewer of meat. "Then eat up. You'll need your strength for the next fight."