I created the myth of the Great Old Ones.

Old man's ring, so fun!

Chapter 569 Curiosity

The cave was not carved by human hands, but rather looked like it was burrowed out by some kind of giant worm. There was moss at the entrance, but deeper inside there was only a bare rock wall.

The blond man, Gordon, led the way with a torch, while others behind him carried guns, flashlights, and other weapons, illuminating their surroundings.

"These were created by some strange and magnificent creatures, one of His minions, who attempted to hollow out the entire mountain to release their master. Unfortunately, the seals of those Great Old Ones were not physical."

As Gordon spoke, John, the brown-haired man behind him, and Dai Yuanyang listened silently.

"But these caves became clues for geological exploration. By analyzing the seismic waves emitted from the entire mountain, we were able to quickly obtain the relevant geological composition and discover a core."

"This place is unreachable by any of the worm passages. Perhaps it's a cognitive bias, or perhaps it's some kind of physical protection. In any case, this should be the core of the seal."

Upon hearing Gordon's words, Dai Yuanyang swallowed hard.

He had a strong bad feeling.

"Mr. Gordon."

He said it in English.

“I think we’d better not go any further. According to the legends of the Nine Streams, Jiangcheng Mountain contains immense power and is the abode of immortals. Although I don’t believe in those legends of gods and ghosts, my intuition tells me that if we continue forward, we’ll run into big problems.”

Do you want to become more capable? Do you want to gain more wealth, money, and power?

Gordon asked.

"Can……"

Dai Yuanyang hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

"Human beings have become the masters of the earth and the leaders of all things because of curiosity."

"If we lose our spirit of exploration, then humanity will be forever bound to the earth, unable to reach the deep sea and the sky. Similarly, if we stop studying the gods out of fear of their power, then we will only be as ignorant and superstitious as people in the past."

Gordon's torch moved forward, illuminating the dark road.

The firelight suddenly dimmed considerably, a sign of oxygen deficiency; in such a cave, the air must be stagnant.

The cave suddenly fell silent the moment the flames went out.

The flashlight beam shone ahead, and in that dark, forbidden place, a call seemed to be echoing.

Dai Yuanyang's eyelids kept twitching. He held a flashlight in his hand and looked around the edge of the cave. The cave was silent except for the explorers' soft breathing.

As the flashlight shone, Dai Yuanyang suddenly saw a human face.

The person's face was as if branded onto the wall, numb and indifferent.

His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately stopped in his tracks.

But soon, Dai Yuanyang realized that it was just his illusion.

When a person stares at a bright object in a dark environment, a projection appears in their eyes. This phenomenon of visual persistence causes the original object to continue to appear in the dark.

And that face belonged to someone close to Dai Yuanyang.

Just as he was relieved, Dai Yuanyang noticed that Gordon in front of him had stopped.

"what happened?"

He asked.

“The rocks here are hollow… dig here with a shovel.”

Gordon pointed to the rock face on one side.

His men immediately grabbed entrenching tools and began digging. About fifteen minutes later, with a snap, the shovels missed their mark.

This means that the wall has been breached, and there is a hole on the other side of the wall.

Could this be the seal?

Dai Yuanyang used his flashlight to illuminate the opposite side of the void. He saw that it was a dilapidated space, but there were traces of human activity within it.

The tables and chairs did not decay because they were isolated from the air. A stone coffin was located in the center, surrounded by numerous corpses.

The coffin, seemingly covered and buried by piles of white bones, exuded an eerie quality that made people afraid to approach it.

"here it is?"

John, with his brown hair, seemed to have noticed something, but he didn't say anything.

"This is the sealed place."

A fanatical glint flashed in Gordon's eyes. He grinned excitedly, grabbed the flashlight, and entered the cave.

click-

Following the rope, Gordon landed next to the coffin piled high with bones. He glanced at the skeletons at his feet; almost all of them were human. One could imagine that at least dozens of people had died here.

The table and chairs next to it were empty; it seemed that something had once been placed there, but it had long since been removed.

The sarcophagus was inscribed with countless characters that Gordon did not recognize, as if describing something.

The cave has no exit and is completely blocked off on all sides; it's hard to imagine how it was built.

Do you recognize the characters on this?

Dai Yuanyang couldn't help but ask.

"No, I don't recognize it, but it's obvious that being in the middle of the mountains with such a coffin, Fang Geng's secret might lie here."

Gordon's eyes gleamed with fanaticism, and his face was taut, as if in a spasm.

His hands were placed on the stone coffin, and he instinctively tried to push it, but unfortunately, the weight of the stone was beyond human capability.

"You, together."

Gordon called over a few men and they pushed the sarcophagus.

With a rustling sound, the stone coffin lid, which had been sealed for who knows how long, slowly moved, revealing what was inside.

……

Lu Ban entered the cave and felt a strong sense of pollution.

In an instant, the black mist entered Lu Ban's respiratory tract, soaked his lungs, flowed into his throat and stomach, and seeped into his bone marrow through every pore.

"If someone from another of the Nine Schools of Thought were to enter this place, they would probably lose their minds in an instant. Is this how it is, or has something unexpected happened this time?"

Lu Ban looked slightly confused.

According to what Seventh Master said before, those who became Xuanjun did not die, but at least they all came out and lived ordinary lives for several years before passing away from illness, which did not seem like they went mad.

But this pollution...

Lu Ban saw that the token in his hand was emitting the same pollution; the two resonated and intertwined, yet seemed to be at odds with each other.

Pollution from different sources is incompatible; it will only assimilate and cover each other.

"Is this contamination from two different groups of people?"

Lu Ban had some guesses in his mind, and he continued forward.

What appears to be no different from poison gas to an ordinary person is merely a slightly unpleasant stench to him.

It might not even smell as bad as the farts some people secretly let out on the subway.

After walking for less than three minutes, Lu Ban arrived at a relatively spacious cave.

He saw that the pollution here had faded considerably, with only a few remnants remaining.

He saw tables and chairs carved from stone, and there were some books there.

Lu Ban glanced at the books; they were written in a foreign script, which he could vaguely discern was probably the language of the ruined capital.

Behind the table, in the center of the cave, sat a person.

Chapter 570 Sacrifices

The man was already dead; his body had decayed, leaving only stark white bones, as if he were sitting cross-legged.

Lu Ban knew that maintaining this posture was difficult. As the body decomposed and the flesh withered, the skeleton would inevitably crumble. To superstitious people, maintaining such a posture was a testament to the deceased's unwavering will, but Lu Ban believed it was probably just the influence of some supernatural force.

Thick black mist swirled around the grayish-white bones, the pollution emanating from them and clashing with and intertwining with the other pollutants in the cave.

Lu Ban saw that there were some words carved on the walls of the cave, using something unknown.

These characters are not the language of the ruined capital, but rather the language of Lu Ban's world.

Despite the passage of time, the marks are so deep that they are still clearly visible today.

"To the dead, we pay tribute to those who faced death."

Lu Ban did know a Latin proverb that roughly means "the dying man pays tribute to you," which is what soldiers say to their generals before going to war.

This sentence is clearly derived from that sentence.

As for its meaning...

Holding the token in his hand, Lu Ban went to the table and began to peruse the text written in the language of the ruined capital.

The paper of these books was also stained, which is why they have remained unrotted for so many years.

One of the books contains many exotic secrets and contaminations recorded in a messy hand. The contents are similar to the "Crane's Cry Nine Chapters Secret Scripture". It seems that Crane Cry Daoist successfully comprehended the knowledge of the exotic world and founded his sect after reading this book.

So, perhaps Daoist Heming was a Xuanjun of a certain era who abandoned his duties and went to the ruined capital.

Or perhaps, Daoist Heming was also a chosen one, whose mission was similar to Lu Ban's: to become a Xuanjun. After arriving here, he read these things and, upon returning to the ruined capital, founded his own sect.

Lu Ban closed the book and opened another one.

There are many handwritings left here, and apart from the initial language of the ruined capital, the rest are all in scripts that Lu Ban can easily understand, seemingly written by different people.

[I have to stay here, I can't leave, I can only stay here, no, I want to leave, I can't stay here, I want to go, I want to go, let me go, haha, I know, they don't need me here, hahaha]

They all betrayed me. I could just ignore them, but no, that's impossible. I can't think like that. I have to wait, I have to wait. It hurts so much, it hurts so much. He's about to come out. Please, don't do this. I shouldn't be here. I regret it, I regret it.

[Die, all of you die! Those people don't deserve to live. I can awaken him. I can do it. Destroy this place! Hahaha, destroy it all! I can do it! Make them pay for their betrayal! No, wait, I need to wake up. Think about why I came here. Be resolute.]

The earliest written text of the ruined capital was clearly written by someone who had gone mad; it was incoherent and contained no discernible content, as if the writer had been tormented by something for a long time.