When Fang Senyan presented the token, the other Dark Templars maintained their vigilant gaze toward the location, or more accurately, fixed their attention upon the glow of the Demon Sword, Apophis.
That blood-red radiance… A chilling light that seemed capable of freezing the very blood within one’s veins! A terrifying brilliance, as if it could cleave through everything in the world!
Even under the immense pressure emanating from the Artifact of the Fallen, holding such a weapon in his hands made it defiant and fiercely sharp, causing these battle-hardened, powerful Dark Templars to react with shock.
A Dark Templar materialized strangely from the very air, accepting the ping-pong ball-sized communicator from Fang Senyan’s hand. He held it out on his palm, his metallic gauntlet flashing as psionic energy flowed into the device, causing the small communicator to hover and begin rotating slowly half a foot above his palm.
The plume of ghostly blue flame that had entered from above flickered a few times before resolving itself into a humanoid shape composed entirely of fire. He drifted slowly forward, prompting immediate outcry from the surrounding Templars:
“Lord Rogue, be careful!”
However, the fire-man seemed completely deaf to their warnings. But as he approached within ten meters of Fang Senyan, the latter abruptly felt a very gentle pressure pushing against him, akin to the repulsive force between magnets, subtly yet surely nudging him back.
Faced with this situation, Fang Senyan was pleased rather than alarmed. Because this proved one thing: even the leader of this Protoss remnant faction, the one who wielded the Artifact of the Fallen, was wary of his presence! Otherwise, why deliberately force him aside?
Rogue gazed down at the circular communicator before him. The device began to disassemble itself, as if several invisible hands were swiftly taking it apart in mid-air. Suddenly, his deep, melodious voice resonated:
“This assembly method… it looks remarkably like our unique techniques. Those self-important fools could never create something so intricate yet simple.”
In a matter of mere seconds, every component within the communicator was meticulously separated and left floating in the air.
Fang Senyan watched with amazement, astonished by the sheer volume of tiny components extracted from the seemingly small device. The feeling was like watching a magician pull a dove out of an egg, then a chicken, then a duck, then a goose, and finally, a whole pig…
Rogue then turned his gaze toward Fang Senyan:
“Can you describe the appearance of the one who gave you this?”
Fang Senyan saw no reason to conceal anything and described Old Qiduo’s appearance precisely. He was surprised to find that as he spoke, a lifelike 3D image began to materialize beside him. Once Fang Senyan finished, the 3D image solidified.
“Is this him?” Rogue asked calmly.
Fang Senyan nodded. “Yes.”
Rogue fell silent for a moment. The communicator rapidly reassembled itself and was then cleanly activated. Normally, Fang Senyan could only trigger this device upon completing a mission, but under Rogue’s touch, it was accomplished with ease.
Instantly, accompanied by a strange resonant tone, the 3D illusion of Old Qiduo, who had been slumped over a table, appeared before everyone. He was clutching a half-shattered bottle, snoring thunderously, with a pool of vomit nearby.
Rogue suddenly extended his left hand. This hand, previously composed of flame, instantly materialized! It transformed into a metallic, monstrous claw, with thick, pronounced knuckles and long, sharply pointed fingernails!
He held his left hand suspended above Old Qiduo’s illusion, and then… Fang Senyan felt the space around him warp. The sensation was indescribable, like his very soul and flesh were stretched several kilometers long in an instant, only to snap back immediately. There was no pain, yet the feeling was vividly etched into his memory.
When Fang Senyan regained his senses, he saw that Old Qiduo’s true body and the illusion had swapped positions! Simply put, the illusion had been displaced, and Old Qiduo’s real self now stood in the center of the hall!
This ability wasn't high-tech for the Protoss; it was already mature. Powerful Arbiter vessels could instantaneously transport astonishing numbers of Protoss troops across light-years.
However, performing such spatial displacement through sheer individual power was a terrifying feat beyond common comprehension!
Old Qiduo had been leaning against a pillar, asleep. Being displaced so abruptly, he should have crashed awkwardly, but he remained deeply asleep, seemingly supported by an invisible force in the air.
No one spoke; they all silently observed Old Qiduo. He seemed to sense the stares, stretched languidly, and awoke—then froze… His gaze swept over the faces before him, and for some inexplicable reason, his body began to tremble violently. Then, his eyes filled with tears…
Fang Senyan was watching with keen interest when, at some point, the Shadow approached his side and stated coldly:
“Commodore, please follow me.”
Fang Senyan shrugged, but seeing two more Dark Templars closing in, he reluctantly followed. This time, however, he was not led back to the previous quiet chamber but to a much more expansive area.
Here, there was a viewport looking out onto the exterior, where molten lava, red and boiling like colossal waves, crashed furiously against the reinforced glass before slowly sliding down! Even Fang Senyan, encountering such a powerful sight for the first time, was momentarily stunned and instinctively recoiled slightly.
The Shadow’s eyes flickered with a fleeting, almost triumphant glint, quickly suppressed. Fang Senyan sighed, sat down in a nearby spot, and declared boldly:
“I’m hungry. I wonder if the all-powerful Protoss can offer me a meal?”
The Shadow’s face immediately fell. “I regret to inform you, we possess no food suitable for the inferior digestive systems of humans.”
Fang Senyan feigned surprise. “But aren’t the Protoss very hospitable? At least His Excellency Uljaki was; I received excellent hospitality there…”
Fang Senyan’s words struck a raw nerve with the proud Protoss. The other Dark Templars immediately showed signs of anger. The Shadow took a deep breath. “Fine. What do you wish to eat!”
Fang Senyan added cheekily, “Do you have a menu? Alright then… A sandwich and a glass of plain water…” After hastily satisfying his hunger, another Dark Templar entered, opening the door, and inquired:
“Commodore Sailor, I heard your purpose here is to find another human?”
Fang Senyan nodded. “Yes, he was forced into the Dark Templar trials under exceptional circumstances.”
“My apologies, there are seven locations across the cosmos where the Dark Templar trials can be conducted. You might have the wrong place,” said the Templar, who appeared significantly older.
Fang Senyan replied calmly, “But I heard that the Dark Templars emerging from the trial here are the strongest.”
This subtle compliment immediately eased the tension. The elder Dark Templar stated, “That is correct. According to the latest data we obtained, eight days ago, a human did arrive bearing a token we could not refuse, requesting to undergo the Dark Templar trials. However, allowing him to participate was already a major breach of precedent, so we provided no other safeguards…”
Fang Senyan listened quietly, then asked, “Are you implying he is already dead?”
The old Dark Templar answered shrewdly, “Our trials differ from those elsewhere. Participants can choose to exit at any time while not in combat, though the longer one remains inside, the greater the enhancement gained. This is why Dark Templars from other sectors often emerge as standardized, mass-produced failures, whereas those who pass our trials are universally far more powerful.”
Hearing this explanation, Fang Senyan understood immediately. In terms of individual combat power, the Dark Templars here would certainly be much stronger. However, this trial method must inherently carry a very high mortality rate. From a warfare perspective, only mass-producible Dark Templars fit the cruel demands of attrition.
“It seems there’s a reason these fellows, despite possessing powerful artifacts like the Artifact of the Fallen, were driven here to merely survive,” Fang Senyan mused internally. Nevertheless, he was more concerned with Ronnie’s fate, so he inquired: “Then what is the record for the longest time a top Dark Templar warrior has stayed in the trial?”
The elder Dark Templar coughed hoarsely, sounding somewhat proud. “Fifteen days.”
A Templar standing nearby interjected immediately, “How can a human compare to Lord Black-Wing?”
Fang Senyan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he smiled. “Indeed, I agree. But while fifteen days might be difficult, I believe my friend can manage about ten days inside without issue.”
One Dark Templar gasped in disbelief. “A human staying inside for ten days! How is that possible! Lord Black-Wing is already recognized as the heir presumptive to the next Hierarch. Since his time, no other Dark Templar has managed to break the ten-day barrier in the proving grounds.”
Fang Senyan smiled. “I have faith in him, just as I have faith in myself.”