Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 214: A Hidden Altar

Stalactites hung from the ceiling like ancient fangs, and in the center, atop a jagged platform of obsidian-black stone, sat something even more incredible:

A sealed stone tablet, surrounded by intricate formations—runes that glowed faintly with fire and time-worn power. The air around it shimmered, like heat mirages, and the temperature in the room was several degrees warmer.

Han Yu’s instincts screamed at him.

This was important.

This was ancient.

He made his way to the obsidian platform and knelt before the tablet, inspecting it closely. The characters etched into its surface weren’t anything he could recognize—not standard cultivator script, not demonic, not Dao Script, and certainly not anything he’d read in the Twin Leaf Peak library during his time there before the mission.

But as he placed a hand on it—just lightly—the script shifted, as if responding to his touch.

He regretted it immediately.

Han Yu jerked back, but the tablet pulsed once... and a small trail of flame erupted along its base, moving toward one of the formation runes.

Then another rune flared to life.

And another.

Han Yu’s breath caught. He didn’t know what he had just triggered, but it didn’t feel hostile... not yet.

The flame trail completed a full circuit around the tablet and then faded, leaving behind a glowing sigil burned into the stone floor.

Then, from the tablet’s base, a small hollow opened. Inside it—laid atop a crimson cloth—was a single, glass vial.

It pulsed faintly. Inside, swirling embers danced like a living flame trapped in liquid form.

Han Yu blinked.

Han Yu knelt beside the glowing altar for a moment longer, staring at the mysterious vial resting in his hand. The liquid inside swirled with ember-like motes, glowing faintly—not quite fire, not quite spiritual qi. And definitely not Fireborn Beast Ashes.

"What... are you?" he murmured under his breath.

Despite his suspicions, Han Yu could feel the power radiating from the vial. It didn’t exude hostility, but there was a strange weight to it—like holding thunder that hadn’t decided when to strike.

He stared at it a moment longer before carefully placing it inside the inner pocket of his chest, right against his sternum. No way he’d trust it to some outer pouch where it could fall or get snatched away. Whatever this was, it was valuable. And probably dangerous.

He stepped away from the altar and gave the cavern a final once-over. The glowing runes had faded again, leaving no trace that anything had been activated. The tablet looked as inert and ancient as it had been when he first walked in.

"That thing must be older than most sects..." Han Yu muttered.

He moved on cautiously, continuing through the winding tunnel until the walls began to widen again and the air grew noticeably more humid. After a few more steps, he came to a shallow basin—partially flooded with crystal-clear water. The stream trickled gently into it from somewhere above, forming a small pond-like section surrounded by smooth, sloping walls.

Han Yu approached with caution, but it was clear this part of the cave was tranquil. There were no ominous growls, no sulfuric smells—just the soft sound of water lapping against the stone. freёwebnoѵel.com

He dipped a hand in and sniffed, then took a cautious sip. It was cold and fresh.

"Thank the heavens," he breathed.

He drank deeply, filled his waterskin, then stripped off his outer robe and washed the caked-on grime, sweat, and dust from his body. The moment the cold water hit his skin, he nearly groaned aloud in relief. He even scrubbed off bits of the dried dung and dirt that might’ve kept him hidden before—but now he needed his senses sharp and his head clear.

After a few minutes of rest and a brief float across the pool, he arrived at the next opening.

And froze.

The cave beyond was bathed in a soft, red glow. All around him were large, jagged red crystals—much like the glowing veins he’d seen earlier, but these were massive, jutting from the floor and ceiling like spears or the ribs of some long-dead beast. They pulsed faintly, warm to the touch, almost like they were alive. Some vibrated slightly, giving off a low hum that resonated in his bones.

But that wasn’t what made Han Yu stop.

It was the beast resting in the middle of the crystal forest.

It lay coiled atop a nest of shattered rock and warm crystals, limbs tucked under its body, tail wrapped tightly around. Its scales were a muted red with hints of molten black, and steam wafted faintly from its nostrils.

The creature was about the size of a small house, with a massive torso and four powerful limbs tipped with long, curved claws. Its head was broad and horned, something between a lizard and a hellhound, with faint glowing lines crisscrossing its hide.

Han Yu’s gaze snapped to its feet—four claws on each limb.

He quietly pulled out the sketch he had made of the claw marks from earlier and compared them. The spacing, the depth, the curve—they matched.

’So this is the one that made those marks,’ he thought, swallowing hard. ’The beast that scared me before was the snake... but this... this is something else.’

He crouched behind a crystal, lowering his breath and spiritual signature as much as possible. From the slow rise and fall of the beast’s body, it was deeply asleep. He could even hear the faint rumble of its snoring—like a distant volcano exhaling.

Directly behind the beast, he spotted a wide tunnel. It sloped upwards, and faint airflow stirred the dust and crystal flakes in its mouth. That had to be the exit.

But it was right past the beast.

Han Yu’s heart sank.

"Of course it is," he muttered under his breath, not moving.

He had two options: Wait until the beast left—if it ever did—or try to sneak past it and pray the heavens were feeling generous.

He looked down at his glaive. Then at the crystals. Then back at the beast.