The comments said I was deeply affectionate, I just added points by using an alternate account.

Three people whistled from behind.

"So, you're not entirely useless after all, look at the one in the middle."

The crowd looked in the direction of the firelight.

Chen Guan's gaze swept over the man, who was bald and not wearing fancy clothes, but only a plain robe.

He clasped his hands together, his face gentle, forming a strange hand seal.

"Monk."

Long Ao blurted it out.

"A Buddhist ascetic." An Changqing squinted to recognize him: "The hand gesture he made has long been lost in modern Buddhist scriptures."

Without needing to be reminded, Long Ao moved the firelight to the far right.

"Taoist priest?"

The man was wearing a wide, flowing robe, with a whisk draped over his right arm.

"Standard Taoist priest attire."

An Changqing nodded.

San Tai stepped forward, his leather boots making a crisp, echoing sound as they hit the ground.

"Now that you've recognized it, haven't you noticed something's wrong with this?"

She walked to the bottom of the mural and looked up at the three mortals.

"That's outrageous." An Changqing's speech quickened: "Primitive priests, Buddhist monks, Taoist hermits."

He turned to look at Santai: "Why are these three people from different belief systems depicted in the same painting?"

Buddhism and Taoism are not related, let alone adding an ancient priest who worships nature gods, which is simply absurd.

"It's more than just being drawn together." San Tai pointed with his fingertip, seemingly showing off, "Look at their poses."

Chen Guan followed her fingertip and saw that the three people were dressed very differently, but their movements were surprisingly consistent.

They all raised their arms high, palms outstretched, facing the sky.

The angle at which the head is tilted back conveys a fervor and devotion that overflows from the image; it is a posture of humility to the dust, pleading for the mercy of some great being.

"What are they asking for?"

Looking at the three fanatical faces, Long Ao felt uneasy and had a strange sense of dread.

"Let's pray to God."

The three platforms answered as if it were perfectly natural.

"Nonsense, why would we pray to God for rain?"

Long Ao retorted.

"Little friend, use your brain. If you're praying to God, where is God?"

San Tai turned around, his smile carrying a hint of danger.

This question stumped everyone.

Holding a torch, An Changqing tried to find the so-called statue of a god at the highest point of the dome, but there was only a large blank space there.

Apart from the swirling cloud patterns, there wasn't even a single bird in sight.

God is gone.

Chen Guan's fingers, which were tucked into his pocket, curled up, causing Leopard to grunt in dissatisfaction.

He quickly loosened his grip, but his mind was already in turmoil.

In all previous murals and ruins, regardless of who the main character was, the blurry figure representing the Lord of Nothingness always appeared in the most conspicuous position.

But it's not here.

Chen Guan stared at the blank cloud layer, and a bold, chilling guess came to mind.

These three leading figures, representing different belief systems of humanity, were likely praying to the vanished Lord of Nothingness.

As the supreme deity of that era, only He deserved such treatment as the unification of the three religions.

"Did you forget to draw it?"

Long Ao gave an absurd answer.

San Tai rolled his eyes: "For a project of this caliber, if an artist drops a single hair on the wall, he'll be executed. How could we forget?"

She walked up to the mural and touched the carvings with her hand: "This middle section was intentionally left blank."

"So, clergy from different faiths abandon their respective gods and kneel here to worship one being together?"

An Changqing muttered to himself, then gave a bitter smile.

"If the religious associations outside saw this, they would blow up this mountain."

"This shows that the history outside is all emasculated garbage."

San Tai dismissively criticized modern history, saying, "In that era, which even we are not qualified to know, the world was not fundamentally governed by the clay and wooden sculptures in the temples today."

Long Ao stood with his arms crossed in front of the huge mural, his face growing increasingly solemn.

That feeling is hard to describe.

There was no murderous intent, nor was it a sign of danger.

It was more like behind the wall, countless eyes were silently watching them from the depths of the mottled colors, from behind those three fanatical worshippers.

The more I looked, the stronger that premonition became.

"Something feels off." Long Ao's voice was tense. He rubbed his arms vigorously, and goosebumps instantly appeared on his skin.

An Changqing nodded in agreement.

The atmosphere here is too eerie, a sense of weight accumulated over thousands of years, mixed with the remnants of near-madness, making it hard to breathe.

His gaze didn't linger on the mural for long, but turned to the other side of the circular hall.

There, a smaller archway leads into deeper darkness.

"There's another road over there," An Changqing pointed with his chin.

Indeed, this painting gives me the creeps.

Those three people in front look like they've gone mad; what on earth are they worshipping?

[Your third sister has already run away; she's gone straight to exploring new areas.]

Chen Guan looked in the direction of the comments and saw that San Tai's figure had appeared in front of the archway at some point.

With her back to everyone, she leaned against the door frame with one hand and turned back to wave.

"Stop dawdling, the best stuff is usually hidden inside."

The smile returned to her lips, as if the momentary seriousness had never existed.

Chen Guan silently memorized the details of the mural and followed the three platforms.

An Changqing and Long Ao exchanged a glance and could only follow.

Given their current situation, they have no choice but to follow this unfathomable madwoman.

Long Ao lagged behind, and as he passed the mural, he inexplicably turned back for another look.

The firelight flickered.

In that instant when the light and shadow flickered, his pupils suddenly contracted.

The bald monk in the center of the painting had a smile that should have been gentle, but it twisted and became incredibly sinister.

Hallucination?

He shivered, dared not look any longer, and quickened his pace.

Behind the archway is a spiral staircase extending downwards.

The steps are narrow, allowing only one person to pass at a time, and the walls on both sides are also covered with murals, as if they complement and extend the grand painting in the main hall above.

Long Ao walked in front, holding a fireball, followed closely by An Changqing, with San Tai in the middle, and Chen Guan trailing behind at a leisurely pace.

As they went deeper, the sandalwood scent in the air became increasingly strong.

"The murals here are different now," An Changqing's voice echoed in the narrow passage, sounding somewhat muffled.

Everyone slowed down.

The mural at the beginning of the steps continues the theme from above, with the three leaders representing different faiths still kneeling in prayer.

But a few meters down, the scene changed.

A blurry light descended from what was once a blank cloud.

The light enveloped the three people below, and the artist used extremely exaggerated brushstrokes to depict the ecstatic joy on their faces as they were bathed in the light, as if their souls had been liberated.

Their prayers were answered.

Further down, the content of the murals begins to become both fragmented and vast.