This time, Mark was not following the supply mule team, but a ghost crossing the ice field alone.

The soul's perception is like an invisible spider web spread out to the maximum extent, searching for the cold traces left by the mixed breath of faith.

After several days of desperate tracking, he was like a hunter on the ice field.

With his soul's keen ability to detect specific "smells", he finally located three other similar construction sites at different cliff locations around the rift valley.

They are like huge, hideous scars, branded on the gray-black rock walls at the edge of the rift.

Although the engineering workload is different, the core structure is surprisingly similar.

Huge and rugged, it carries a sense of brutal power that is born to conduct energy at all costs.

They formed an irregular circle with the first construction site, like four giant claws, locking a core point deep in the rift.

The last construction site that Mark discovered, or rather the fortress that had been completed long ago, was found after he sensed a powerful magical fluctuation.

It can only be said to be a coincidence. At that time, Mark was climbing a towering ice cliff in the leeward side.

The magical fluctuation occurred hundreds of meters away from his eyes.

Although it was only a brief moment, when the magic fluctuation appeared, a huge fortress-shaped building slowly emerged from the empty wasteland in front of Mark!

The wind and snow there were strangely calm, and the air was filled with an unsettling silence that came from a violent consumption of energy.

What appeared before him was a completed fortification.

It was even larger and colder than the fortress under construction at the Black Anvil construction site.

If the latter still has a bit of rough stone feeling.

The one in front of him was made entirely of several unknown metal alloys with a matte black iron color.

The huge base was deeply embedded in the rock, and its surface was covered with magical runes that seemed to be naturally generated and flowing with a solidified dark red glow, extending all the way to an extremely large circular platform at the top of the fortification.

What made Mark most nervous were the eight dark purple metal prisms standing in the center of the platform!

They are crooked and twisted, like steel nails bent by a huge force, but their tips point extremely precisely to the same invisible focus deep in the rift!

The surface of this prism is also covered with dark red rune lines, but at this moment the light of the rune lines is extremely weak, and the power of magic is almost extinguished.

But Mark's powerful soul perception could clearly taste the residual chaotic energy aftermath that was instantly solidified around the symbol line.

And at a deeper level, there is a resonance that has not yet completely dissipated inside the base below the symbol, and it faintly echoes with a certain vast and cold existence in the depths of the rift, with the breath of ancient stars!

This silent steel monster had apparently just completed its first heartbeat.

If Mark guessed correctly.

Its purpose is to stimulate the resonance of the heart of the star skeleton deep in the rift!

Just as Mark looked up at the fortress, a hidden alloy door on the side of the fortification slid open silently.

A group of dwarves wearing black robes with black whetstone emblems on their cuffs walked out quietly, their movements in perfect unison without a single unnecessary sound.

They walked straight to a device at the edge of the platform and began debugging and maintenance.

He seemed unaware of Mark watching from a distance.

However, almost at the same time as this group of dwarves appeared, another aura that made Mark even more alert emerged from the temporary camp below the fortifications near the edge of the rift!

A small group of people, about seven or eight.

Not from Black Anvil!

They were wearing the dark black robes unique to the Icefield Dark Church, with rough dark gold edges on the cuffs that contained a dark power that was rather blasphemous!

Their aura was as cold as if they had crawled out of the grave, and one of them even leaned on a bone staff with a twisted black crystal inlaid on the top.

These people did not carry any obvious engineering tools. Instead, they were all carrying heavy packages. The package of one of them even emitted a faint spatial seal fluctuation.

Looking at the behavior of these people, Mark couldn't help but feel a little emotional. It seemed that the church on this ice field was really poor.

In order to carry out this church's plan, they didn't even apply for approval for space equipment.

They did not go to the Black Anvil Church dwarves who were maintaining the fortifications, nor did they admire the masterpiece that had just been completed.

Instead, led by the man holding a staff, they walked in a direction completely opposite to the fortification maintenance area, heading towards an inconspicuous, snow-covered, rugged rock wall on the edge of the rift!

The movements were swift and the goal was clear, as if any slower would lead to missing out on some treasure.

Mark had long expected that people from the Black Anvil Church and the Dark Church would live in the same camp.

After all, Fordragon Gathering is obviously a prime faith reserve managed by the Church of the Star and the Church of Darkness. However, Black Anvil can move freely there, which means that they have already defected to these two churches or have some shameful transactions with them.

Watching the group of people from the Dark Church moving towards the rift, Mark's eyes suddenly became as sharp as an eagle.

At this time, at this place, the people from the Dark Church did not come to help maintain the fortifications or inspect the results, but instead sneaked off the main road and headed towards the uninhabited area of ​​the rift cliff?

There is definitely a ghost!

Without the slightest hesitation, Mark's figure, like a real shadow in the night, instantly slid down from the ice cliff where he was hiding, and merged into the deep shadow network cast by the rugged rocks at the edge of the rift valley.

The icy wind blew up the fine snow dust on the ground, silently erasing the distance between him and the Dark Church team.

His mind was highly concentrated, and his soul perception was fixed on the small silent group of the Dark Church.

His intuition told him that by following them, he might be able to uncover the true secret of the actions of the many churches in the Fortagan Gathering, or even find a direct path to the answer.

The cold wind scraped across Mark's stiff cheek like a blunt knife covered in ice.

His figure was clinging to the shadow of a wind-eroded boulder at the edge of the rift, and his soul perception was like an invisible fine net, firmly locking onto the stealthy Dark Church team below.

The group had great difficulty walking, especially two of them who were carrying huge bags.

That is definitely not an ordinary supply.

The package was unnaturally bulging, and through the thick waterproof oilcloth, Mark's soul perception could even taste a strange smell that was being suppressed and almost came out.

It wasn't darkness, nor was it cold.

It is more like some fragment of star power that has been frozen for a long time, silent but extremely deep.

It carried a vague sense of holiness, which was incompatible with the sticky and foul aura emanating from the members of the Dark Church, and seemed extremely abrupt.

What made Mark even more puzzled was that the old man in the lead, who was leaning on a pitch-black bone staff and had the coldest aura, would stop almost every ten or so steps!

The twisted black crystal inlaid on the top of his bone staff glowed with an imperceptible gray light, and he would quickly use his fingers to draw a few strange runes on the surface of the bag.