“It really works!”
Hu Mazi was both surprised and delighted, quickening his descent.
After an unknown time of falling, his feet finally touched solid ground.
Chen Ping looked up, the miasma above had closed again, like a heavy curtain, completely blocking out the sunlight.
The surroundings were pitch black, only the jade pendant in Hu Mazi’s hand emitted a faint white glow, illuminating the stone steps beneath.
The stone steps wound downward, the rock walls on either side covered with dark red patterns, which, upon closer inspection, seemed like countless tiny runes wriggling.
Chen Ping reached out to touch the wall, a bone-chilling cold pricked his fingertips, and the moment his divine sense probed, it was repelled by a sinister force.
“Be careful, these runes are problematic.”
Chen Ping warned in a low voice, “They can devour divine sense, prolonged contact might lead to corruption by demonic energy.”
Hu Mazi quickly averted his gaze, raising the jade pendant higher, its white light expanding, faintly revealing a dilapidated stone gate at the end of the steps, inscribed with three ancient characters: “Burial Demon Abyss.”
The gate was slightly ajar, faint gusts of wind carrying indistinct whispers emanated from within, as if countless vengeful spirits were wailing inside.
Hu Mazi gripped the short blade at his waist, his heartbeat quickening involuntarily: “Chen Ping, inside…”
“We’ll know once we go in.”
Chen Ping pushed the gate open, a denser wave of demonic energy surged forth, the golden light on his protective shield flickered violently before stabilising.
Beyond the gate was a long corridor, its walls embedded with glowing ghost crystals, illuminating the passage as bright as day.
Yet, this light carried an eerie green hue, casting a cold sensation on their faces.
The corridor floor was littered with bones, human, demonic, and even those of unfamiliar giant beasts, clearly the site of a brutal battle long ago.
“These bones are ancient, at least ten thousand years old.”
Chen Ping crouched to examine a relatively intact demonic skeleton, noticing a smooth hole in its skull, its edges bearing traces of scorching, “Killed by a sharp weapon, a single fatal strike.”
Hu Mazi picked up a human arm bone, etched with half a talisman mark, resembling the symbol on his jade pendant: “This is my Hu clan’s talisman mark! Could my ancestors have fought here?”
Chen Ping stood, his gaze sweeping the depths of the corridor: “Whoever left these, it means this place has more than just restrictions, there’s something far more dangerous. Keep moving, stay alert.”
As they proceeded, the air grew colder, the whispers becoming clearer.
The voices were like countless people murmuring in their ears, recounting pain and resentment, enough to shatter the mind of anyone with weaker willpower.
Hu Mazi felt his scalp tingle, hastily circulating his scant spiritual energy to resist, but the voices burrowed into his ears like parasitic worms, causing his vision to blur.
At that moment, Chen Ping let out a sharp command: “Focus your mind!”
A surge of pure spiritual energy flowed into Hu Mazi, like a thunderclap in his mind, instantly dispelling the whispers.
Hu Mazi, drenched in cold sweat, gasped heavily: “Bloody hell, I nearly…”
“It’s demonic sound intrusion.”
Chen Ping’s expression was grave, “The ancient demonic remnants at the abyss’s bottom are stirring, unable to attack directly, they disrupt our minds this way. Hold the jade pendant tightly, its aura can suppress these remnants.”
Hu Mazi pressed the pendant to his chest, feeling much calmer.
They continued, reaching a fork in the corridor, the left path exuding a faint smell of blood, the right echoing with the sound of flowing water.
Chen Ping checked the map, finding it only marked up to the stone gate, the fork ahead a blank void.
