Warriors will die if they charge.

"Quick, Bardeen!"

Marcus grabbed the slowest dwarf, swung his arm forward, and flung the sturdy iron lump into a cave five meters away.

The storm that had already formed behind them connected heaven and earth, like a destructive tide that destroyed all obstacles in its path.

Gritting his teeth, he rushed into the unknown cave. He saw Trish wrung out the water from her ponytail and Bardin rubbing his buttocks. He put down Jenny, who was almost unconscious, and pointed to the deep, dark tunnel of the cave.

"Don't stop, keep going."

Jenny patted her dizzy head. She had been carried for who knows how long, and the rush of blood made her head feel heavy. She mumbled, "Do we have to go in? There might be snake people inside."

"We'll talk about the snake people later." Marcus pushed her back and took a step forward, glancing back at the cave entrance.

A piece of broken wood, whipped up by the hurricane, crashed onto the edge of the cave entrance and shattered into several pieces with a crack.

"Are you standing at the entrance just waiting to be crushed to death?"

Zhuo'er tossed her rain-soaked long hair, a clear stream of water splashing onto Marcus's cheek. She was extremely dissatisfied with this bizarre adventure. Without even any intelligence on the enemy, they had rashly entered the controlled area; it was practically a suicidal operation.

Holding her scimitar, she took the lead and stepped into the deep, dark tunnel, where darkness served as an invisible shield for the drow.

Bardin walked in second place, followed closely by Jenny, with Marcus bringing up the rear. The group then ventured deeper into the storm to escape its onslaught.

The spacious tunnel was quiet, almost unnaturally quiet, with only the whistling of the wind and the sound of footsteps.

As they continued walking downwards, Bardin suddenly spoke:

"This tunnel was dug by hand."

"Are you sure?" Marcus reached out and touched the cave wall covered with green moss. The cave was about ten feet high and much more spacious than the mine he had drilled in Card Hill. There were traces of flying insects and snakes everywhere.

"I am a dwarf."

Regardless of whether the tunnel was man-made, Rye Wine chose to continue downwards. After walking for about twenty minutes, Trish suddenly raised her hand, indicating that there was movement ahead:

"There is a sound of water; it is the sound of dewdrops from the stalactites falling into the pool."

The team began to change positions, with Marcus leading the way with his shield raised, carefully entering the end of the slope.

An underground pool, resembling a quiet, secluded valley, slowly came into view.

In the quiet, narrow cave, large stalactites hanging from the dome dripped crystal-clear dewdrops into the tranquil, mirror-like blue pool.

Marcus gripped his longsword tightly, his eyes warily fixed on the platform at the edge of the cave. Through the eerie blue light refracted from the pool, he saw a blurry figure hiding behind the stalactites.

Is this another case similar to Emma's? Do all devils like to burrow into holes and compare heights with dwarfs?

"That's a dead man," Trissy said softly, her gaze fixed on the edge of the cave.

"A mummified corpse, dead for a long time."

Jenny squeezed past Trish, raised her staff, and a faint light flashed from the top, illuminating the cave, which was no more than a hundred square meters in size, until it was completely bright.

A shriveled corpse dressed in a strange black robe sat cross-legged on a stone platform.

He wore a beast-faced helmet inlaid with many wild beast fangs and feathers, his back was bent forward, his head drooped to his chest, and his exposed body was yellowish-brown skin wrapped around his bones, exuding an aura of ancient decay.

"That legend is true... Is there really an ancient and mysterious civilization in the Riverside Forest?" Jenny stared in disbelief with her large amber eyes. She had never seen clothing similar to that worn by the mummies in any of the materials.

If a civilization is hidden deep within the riverside forest, it would undoubtedly be a major academic discovery.

"He's a deceased man. Show some respect, Honey. Don't look at a guardian with the eyes you wizards use to look at lab rats." Bardin tapped his forehead with his index finger and then traced it down to his chest, making a gesture of respect typical of dwarven society.

The dwarves clearly believed they had inadvertently stumbled upon the tomb of a priest, a mysterious religious sanctuary with a deep blue, mirror-like underground pool.

"But he possesses immense value, a mysterious civilization we've never encountered before," Jenny retorted sternly, walking to the edge of the pool and carefully examining the mummified corpse sitting cross-legged at the edge of the cave.

Marcus had little interest in the mummified corpse; he frowned, troubled by something far more troublesome.

Having just been ambushed by the snake people, he and Badin threw down their backpacks full of supplies to lighten their load and make fighting easier.

The storm came very suddenly, and when he picked up Jenny and ran away, the backpack was nowhere to be found.

The bag contained not only supplies and a map, but also gold coins collected from the adventurer's camp.

All my efforts have come to nothing. Sigh, I'm numb.

The captain sighed, and seeing the dwarf and the mage apprentice arguing about whether the dead should rest in peace, he impatiently waved his hand, signaling them to stop.

"Regardless, we need to find out about this deceased person. Perhaps he is the one the snake people are looking for?"

He turned his head and looked at Zhuo Er, who was silent and the most agile: "Tracy, you go..."

"I'm not going." Zhuo'er refused decisively, glancing at Marcus's back with a hint of worry; she had just seen him stabbed in the back.

"I don't want to touch a dried-up corpse."

"Well, it seems the dirty and hard work is always done by the soldiers."

Marcus sighed, walked to the edge of the cave, and touched the rugged rock wall. His agile movements reassured Trish, that the slash had not caused any real damage.

The rock wall was dry, lacking the damp, slippery feel of the moss-covered tunnel. He stepped onto a protruding limestone rock, using both hands and feet to grip the foothold, and slowly moved towards the platform where the dried corpse was.

The deep blue pool shimmered in the afterglow, and a soft, long, and sorrowful woman's chant echoed in the pool, carried by the ripples caused by the splashing stalactites and water droplets.

Marcus pressed himself against the rock face, gripping a rock above his head, and asked the three waiting men, "Did you hear that sound? It sounded like a woman... singing?"

"Sigh, it must be the Water Ghost Queen warning you, tough guy, don't go."

"It could also be the vixen Lorthera who wants you to hurry over," Trissy said sarcastically.

Damn it, I'm definitely the most reliable one in the team. Without my flawless command, what will the dwarves and drow do?

Marcus muttered to himself as he slowly climbed the rock face to the narrow platform at the end.

Just as he was about to grab the edge of the platform, he turned his head to look at the pool where the ethereal singing echoed.

The water surface fell into complete stillness; the stalactites no longer splashed water, turning into a solidified turquoise glass.

Neatly arranged stone slabs emerge from the bottom of the water, their details obscured by the surface, like a memory blurred by water, leaving only a fragmented outline.

Marcus suppressed his unease and looked directly at the mummified corpse dressed in a strange black robe.

The platform was half a meter higher than where he was. Inside the magnificent, python-shaped brass helmet was a face with sunken features and a slightly open jaw, as if he was speaking calmly in the moments before his death.

The deceased's arms were placed on his knees, palms facing up, his right hand holding an obsidian dagger, and his left hand clutching a piece of parchment.

The withered skin covering the bones had a layer of dark lines, suggesting that the person had extensive tattoos during their lifetime.

What puzzled Marcus the most was a long, narrow scar on his torso, stretching from his left collarbone to his right abdomen. It was straight and without any extra cuts, indicating that his hand was extremely steady when he made the incision.

Judging from the angle, did he cut himself open? And it seems he even dug out his heart; it's empty inside.

Marcus whispered his apologies to the deceased: "I'm sorry, we need to clarify the situation. Apologies."

He gently pried open the mummified corpse's hand and, with reverence, took the obsidian dagger and parchment that the deceased was clutching tightly.

Marcus didn't want to touch anything else, so he went back the way he came, only to suddenly hear a cracking sound as if bones were breaking.

"Marcus!"

Trissy's wary look as she drew her scimitar made Marcus turn his head away.

The mummified corpse seemed to be pushed from behind by the wind, and suddenly, its head tilted forward and it fell from the platform into the pool.

Without a ripple, the dried corpse touched the water, sank to the bottom of the pool, and dissolved into a dark green color.

The eerie green "corpse water" rose to the surface like drifting catkins, spreading like thick ink, and then fell into pieces like floating feathers.

That feeling wasn't eerie... but rather a quiet stillness, like a release.

Filled with incomprehensible confusion, Marcus returned to the original platform and opened the parchment first, before Jenny could eagerly demand the dried corpse's clutches.

On the crumpled, supple paper, there was a line of ancient symbols drawn in blood, neat as a ruler, extremely short, and after being washed by dust and smoke, they had turned into a muddy black.

He was certain he had never seen such a symbol before, but as he gazed at the runes on the parchment, the pool’s mournful, drawn-out voice whispered in his ear.

"This is……"

His pupils dilated, and his hands clenched the parchment tightly.

Following the woman's murmuring voice in my ear, I read aloud the judgment on the parchment—

This is the end of the world, the death of the known world.