Mr. Death in the Steam World

The passage was much deeper than expected, and the stone path underfoot kept sloping downwards.

Moen walked at the back of the group, his "Eye of Death" kept half-open, and occasionally a few traces of residual magic flashed at the edge of his vision, but none of them posed a threat.

"There's something ahead." Arthur suddenly stopped and raised his right hand to signal everyone to stop.

Holy light extended forward from his fingertips, illuminating a small area at the end of the passage.

There crouched several palm-sized creatures, their bodies covered in dark red scales, with small flames burning at the ends of their tails, nibbling at a patch of glowing moss.

"Just some fire lizards." Phils breathed a sigh of relief.

Before the words were even finished, the fire lizards scattered in a flurry, their tails leaving long, thin trails of fire in the darkness before vanishing without a trace.

The tense atmosphere immediately relaxed.

During the rest of their journey, they encountered several more groups of similar small creatures.

A lava snail, emitting a faint glow, lay on the rock wall; a Martian rat darted around at my feet; and a young Ash Bat, sitting blankly at a fork in the road, flapped its wings and fled as fast as it could when it was illuminated by the holy light.

"I told you so," Arthur said, withdrawing his holy light, his tone carrying a hint of certainty.

"The danger level marked by the detection familiar is only C-level, and the outer mechanisms have been cracked by Manluo, so the rest shouldn't be too difficult."

“Indeed.” Moen nodded, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding rock walls. “So far, we haven’t encountered a single decent containment object.”

"Don't be so rude, Mr. Marcus," Fils said, turning around and glaring at him. "Have you forgotten what happened after you said something like that in Wonderland?"

"That was an accident."

"You always say it's an accident!"

After walking for about half an hour, the passage finally began to widen, and the stone pavement underfoot became more regular.

Phils took a few steps forward, and the orange flames fell, illuminating a huge stone door that was slightly ajar.

Moen took a few steps forward, his eyes quickly scanning the runes on the door, recognizing several symbols he had seen in "An Explanation of Ancient Myths".

"Flame, inheritance, trial, and this... it probably means 'core' or 'origin'."

"There's no lock on the door, and no magical reaction." Phils swept her flame along the crack in the door. "It looks like it's ajar; just push it open."

"Go in." Arthur reached out and pressed his hand on the stone door, then pushed it hard.

The stone gate emitted a deep rumble and slowly opened inward.

Behind the door was a huge circular stone chamber.

The dome hangs high, with a fist-sized dark red crystal embedded in its center, emitting a faint light.

By the light, one could see that the walls of the stone chamber were covered with murals.

The first mural depicts a group of people kneeling before a flame to receive fire, just like the fire god's myth that Moen had read about in the book.

The second image depicts people building cities, forging metals, and holding celebrations under the protection of flames.

But starting from the third image, the content of the picture began to become strange.

The flames in the painting are no longer warm and bright, but instead have a sickly dark red color.

The kneeling people no longer showed pious expressions, but their faces were distorted and their mouths were wide open as if they were screaming.

Several translucent arms reached out from the flames, grabbed those closest to the fire, and dragged them into the inferno.

The last mural is located at the deepest part of the stone chamber and is larger than the others.

On the screen, a huge ball of dark red flame occupies the center position, with a blurry humanoid silhouette standing in the center of the flame, and twelve glowing symbols floating around the silhouette.

Beneath the flames, countless figures twisted and entangled together, as if being swallowed by the flames, or as if trying to break free.

Phils shivered and took a half-step closer to Arthur.

"This has the same theme as the mural in the entrance passage—the protection of the god of fire and sacrifice."

"But this style... doesn't quite resemble orthodox Vulcan worship." Moen turned to look at Phils. "Does orthodox Vulcan worship include a tradition of human sacrifice?"

"No." Fils shook her head, her tone very certain. "Herspherd, the god of fire, is the only one of the twelve Olympian gods who strictly forbids human sacrifice."

"The core of His teachings is 'passing on the flame, ensuring endless life,' meaning that followers of the fire god should continue their lives by passing on the flame, rather than by sacrificing lives to gain power."

She paused, gazing thoughtfully at the distorted figures in the mural.

"These paintings clearly depict some kind of sacrifice—the kind forbidden by the god of fire."

"So either the people who built this site weren't orthodox Vulcans," Arthur said in a deep voice, "or they weren't even worshipping Hesfield himself."

"Regardless of who they worship," Moen turned his gaze from the murals to the massive stone platform in the center of the chamber.

"Since they're all gone now, let's see if there's anything of value left."

Scattered around the stone chamber were some small stone containers, most of which were broken, with only a few relatively intact small jars remaining in the corner.

Phils crouched down and shone the flame into the inside of one of the jars. There were some grayish-black powders inside, which crumbled into ashes at the slightest touch.

"It must be some kind of incense or ointment used in a ritual," she said, standing up and dusting her hands.

"It's been too long, it's long since expired, and it has no recycling value."

"It's too clean here," Moen said, looking around. "There isn't even a single guardian beast. It doesn't seem like a C-rank mission should be this difficult."

"Are you disappointed?" Phils raised an eyebrow.

"No, I just feel something's not right—what is it?"

Moen's gaze was fixed on the center of the stone platform.

Bathed in the glow of the dark red crystal, a palm-sized stone slab lay quietly in the center of the stone platform.

Arthur crouched down and carefully examined the surface of the stone slab.

It is covered with dense symbols, and the characters look somewhat blurry, obviously because it is so old that they are difficult to recognize.

After confirming that there was no magic residue on the stone slab, he reached out and gently touched the edge of the slab.

Nothing happened.

"It's safe," he said, turning back.

He placed his entire palm on the stone slab and tried to lift it, but to his surprise, it wouldn't budge.

He tried again from a different direction, but the stone slab seemed to have merged with the stone platform, and there was still no response.

"How heavy is this thing?"

He stood up, took a step back, and examined the connection between the stone slab and the stone platform. There were no traces of glue or fitting; the stone slab simply appeared to be placed on the stone platform.