Chapter 216: Separated

Standing on the rectangular green rock and looking down, the bottom of the "Wind-Eroded Lake" in its largest wind cave was pitch black, with no way to tell how deep the space was. Compared to the Shadow City pieced together from memory fragments, it was easy to see that the largest cave at the lake bottom was blasted out by the massive "Stone Eye" at the top of the honeycomb when "E Luo Hai City" collapsed and sank. That thousand-jin boulder pierced the city's top wall and went straight through, passing through the structure we had just seen in the city. Even if the area below had collapsed, the Stone Eye would not have sunk too deep, and the lake water had not formed strong undercurrents or whirlpools—it could only seep down through the cracks in the city ruins. These signs indicate the lake water is not very deep, but if one wants to enter a temple deeper than the honeycomb and the altar, one must pass through wind-eroded rock caves that could collapse at any moment. Some of these caves may have no water, and the terrain is extremely complex. To go down is to risk one's life by tying one's head to the waistband.

At this moment, the mark on Ming Shu's neck was much deeper than before, indicating our time was very limited. Unless we escaped to the other side of the ocean like Professor Chen within one or two days, staying near the ancient city's ruins would likely mean we wouldn't survive two or three days. The closer we got to the energy of the Ghost Cave, the more real and intense the sensation became from this imaginary space that absorbs blood-red inter. Feeling its existence meant becoming part of it—forever unable to escape.

Ming Shu wept bitterly, chattering to us: not going down means death, and going down is like ramming one's head into a gun barrel. Although the fish in the lake don't harm people, the two black-and-white striped flood dragons might leap out at any moment. Once they launch a violent underwater assault, no human force can resist. Moreover, who can guarantee there aren't even more dangerous things in the deep underground? The more I thought about it, the weaker my legs felt.

I, Pangzi, and Shirley Yang were busy preparing for the dive. No time to dwell on Ming Shu's complex emotions. Besides retaining necessary weapons, explosives, lighting gear, fuel, medicine, and cold-resistant assault jackets, we discarded everything else. Based on our judgment, since the original site had been submerged by water, the brain of the glacial ice crystal corpse must have been buried by the Reincarnation Sect beneath the Shadow City, and her eyes should be directly below the true ruins of "E Luo Hai City." However, the most likely scenario is that they were already swallowed into the belly of the Fish King. Of course, this doesn't matter—so long as we follow the ruins and dive into the deep underground altar, we can proceed. But whether the altar of the Demon Kingdom can still be preserved underground after such a long time remains unknown.

I said to Pangzi and Shirley Yang: "All along, we've persisted through so many difficulties. Now it's nearly the final moment. Before entering Tibet, I asked my senior brother to cast a divination: 'Encounter water to attain the Middle Way.' I was half-believing before, but now it seems fully validated—this journey will surely not be in vain."

Pangzi said: "Fragrant flowers aren't necessarily beautiful, and capable people aren't necessarily talkative. I won't say anything more—when we find the place, you'll see what I can do. Ghost caves, demon caves—I don't care. Anyway, we can still return empty-handed. Any pearls or agates we find will definitely be chiseled out and brought back. No more talk. Let's go—into the water." After speaking, he pressed his respirator and dive mask to his mouth and leapt straight into the "Wind-Eroded Lake," sending up a great spray of white pearls that startled the lake's fish into scattering in all directions.

Shirley Yang said to me: "If it weren't for my going to the Xinjiang desert, none of this would have happened. I know you and Pangzi are very generous, so I won't say sorry or thank you—but I must urge you one last thing: be careful. At this final moment, never let your guard down."

I nodded at Shirley Yang, and she jumped from the green rock into the lake. I gave a few words of instruction to Ming Shu and A Xiang behind me, telling them to wait here and that we would return to pick them up after we finished. Then I also leapt from the rock. In the lake, the fish formation was still slowly moving near the crystal wall and had not scattered despite the three of us falling in.

As soon as Pangzi, Shirley Yang, and I met in the lake, before we could begin our operation, Ming Shu and A Xiang also sneaked into the water. I said to Ming Shu: "This really adds trouble—you were fine up there, why come down and stir things up? We don't even have that many oxygen tanks."

Ming Shu grabbed A Xiang, splashing water at the edge as he said to me: "Ah, don't mention it—just now I saw movement in the woods above. It's probably those two striped flood dragons getting restless again, coming to eat fish in the lake. I wanted to warn you, but my legs went weak, I lost my footing, and fell down."

I turned to look at the woods beside the "Wind-Eroded Lake"—only a gentle mountain breeze stirred the treetops, with no sign of abnormal movement. I immediately understood: it was obvious. Ming Shu, this old fool, was worried we wouldn't be able to come back up after going down, that after finding the altar we'd take another route and escape, leaving him behind. He's had this worry for days.

Since they came down, I had no choice—I could at least let them stay in the water and ignore them. But they only had dive masks, no oxygen tanks, so we had to revert to the previous method: sharing oxygen tanks. Thus, we gathered everyone together in the lake, made a simple deployment, and decided to go down through the wind-eroded rock cave shattered by the giant Stone Eye, proceeding where the seepage was strongest.

Just as we were about to descend, the fish in the lake suddenly erupted in violent agitation. The non-white-bearded fish thrashed about like headless flies, and once they fled into the lake-bottom caves, they would likely never come out. Meanwhile, the tens of thousands of white-bearded fish forming the fish formation also trembled slightly, appearing extremely tense.

+Seeing the fish's behavior, I immediately sensed something was wrong, thinking to myself: It seems this Ming Shu isn't just our Italian ally—aside from hindering us, he also has the potential of a Demise-Mouth Emperor.

Just as that thought formed, part of the "fish formation" in the lake had already begun to scatter, as if the "old white-bearded fish" inside had suffered fatal injuries and could no longer hold the group together. Some white-bearded fish felt their ancestors might not last much longer, their fighting spirit collapsing accordingly. Yet a fragment still clung tightly together, refusing to disperse—though the scale was now pitifully small.

I estimated that once the fish formation dispersed or weakened, the "striped flood dragons" behind the mountain would soon leap out—they wouldn't miss the chance to bite that old fish to death. Soon, in this tranquil "Wind-Eroded Lake," another bloodbath would likely erupt. If the old fish were bitten dead, there would be no chance to go underwater.

Opportunity must not be lost. I quickly made a downward hand signal, and everyone dove into the lake bottom together. The remaining half of the "fish formation" was moving toward the lake center, and we happened to pass beneath it. The dense white-bearded fish, each with blank expressions and staring eyes—of course fish naturally lack expression—but seeing this scene up close underwater made it seem as if these "white-bearded fish" were like battalions of brave warriors marching to die, their wooden faces gaining a touch of tragic grandeur.

In the shallower parts of the lake bottom, this was the broken opening at the top of the "honeycomb." Just as we entered, the lake water was churned open like a pot, and streams of black blood, along with fragments of white-bearded fish flesh and scales, were drawn by the inflowing undercurrents into the caves on either side of the wind-eroded rock.

Pangzi signaled to me—it seemed the battle had already begun above, and he pointed downward: the underground path was blocked by a massive stone ball, though the original form of the Stone Eye could no longer be discerned. Above it lay a thick layer of transparent mayflies, along with various small shrimp and fish at the bottom of the food chain. It seemed we could only detour downward from the side, so we took turns using our respirators and slowly swam toward the side cave entrance. The deeper we went, the stronger the downward undercurrent felt.

In a cave passage, Shirley Yang felt her way forward, checking which direction was viable, because going straight down was the most dangerous. This wind-eroded rock, enduring for ten thousand years under immense pressure, could no longer bear the load—the "Stone Eye" above might fall at any moment. If struck, one would become a pile of minced meat. For safety, only a detour from the side was secure.

Finally, we entered a large wind cave over a hundred square meters in size—resembling an ancient city hall, somewhat like a temple. The ceiling and walls had a large breach, but the interior was filled with water, the flow relatively stable, as if only this one entrance existed, with all other routes sealed by rock, sand, and debris. Although water could seep downward, people could not pass through. We could only hold up our diving lamps and circle underwater. Oxygen was running low—if we couldn't find a way out, staying in this labyrinthine lake bottom without returning to the surface would be a dead end.

As we were at a loss, feeling great anxiety, the lake water in the hall suddenly turned turbid. I looked up at the opening above and instantly sensed trouble: that ten-plus-meter-long old fish was being bitten by two vicious "striped flood dragons," struggling as it swam toward the lake-bottom hall where we were.

The "striped flood dragons" were each three to four meters long—smaller than the "old white-bearded fish," but possessing endless strength. A twist of their bodies would tear off a large strip of fish meat, then they'd bite another part and hold on. The old fish was covered in scale wounds, dying and struggling, dragging these two dead weights down as it occasionally slammed its body against the lake-bottom walls, trying to shake them off. At this moment, entangled together, they tumbled into the underwater temple.

Before these underwater leviathans, human strength was utterly insignificant. I signaled everyone to scatter and swim back upward quickly. Though the temple was spacious, it couldn't withstand such turmoil. But movement underwater was slow, and before we could disperse, the old fish had already brought the two striped flood dragons crashing into the temple floor.

The temple floor was also snow-white "wind-eroded rock." The white-bearded fish, whose body was as large as a dragon, after being injured and enraged, exerted tremendous force—its head was extraordinarily hard, directly punching a large hole in the ground. Yet the temple's lower layer was also very solid; the fish's head happened to lodge there, immobile. It couldn't surge downward for lack of leverage, nor could it retreat—it could only frantically thrash its tail, sending streams of turbid blood that threatened to turn the temple's lake water red.

All our plans were ruined. We feared being struck by its thrashing tail in the chaos, so we scattered to corners to hide. Since we were already dispersed and underwater, I had no way to confirm whether the others were still alive—each of us could only hope for the best.

Seeing the old fish trapped, the two black-and-white "striped flood dragons" were overjoyed, dancing underwater with bared teeth and claws, calculating where to strike to end the Fish King's life. Stimulated by the blood in the water, like having inhaled opium, they became overly excited. This turmoil didn't matter—indeed, they discovered there were still people in the temple. One of them flicked its tail underwater like a black-and-white torpedo and darted past.

At this moment, cracks began to appear around the hole in the temple floor, and the turbid bloodwater poured in, greatly improving visibility. I swept the area with my underwater searchlight and saw the erupted striped flood dragon lunging straight at Shirley Yang and A Xiang nearby. They shared one oxygen tank, hiding in a temple corner hoping to find a chance to escape—but it was already too late. I wanted to rush to their aid, but how could I outpace a "striped flood dragon" as fast as a torpedo? And even if I reached them, I wouldn't even be able to stuff a toothpick between its teeth.

The situation was extremely critical—suddenly, the pressure of the underwater current surged violently. The thousand-jin Stone Eye lodged in the honeycomb's center finally gave way and came crashing down. The "striped flood dragon" lunging at Shirley Yang and A Xiang was also stunned by this sudden giant stone, forgot to dodge, and took the hit squarely. The lake's buoyancy was limited—the stone's descent dragged the entire lake's water down with it. After striking the "striped flood dragon," it didn't even pause, immediately smashing through the temple floor below. All things in the temple were then swept away in a massive downward rush of water.

In the water, I only felt the world spin—my body seemed to have fallen into a bottomless ghost cave. Below lay an unimaginably vast underground space. I could only hold my breath to avoid choking on the surge. In a daze, I saw a vast expanse of white light ahead—perhaps a hallucination of bizarre, shifting illusions. I didn't know where the others had gone.

My body plunged into a lake. On the rocks here, faint glimmers glowed, but not clearly. Above me were hundreds of water columns of varying sizes, pouring down through the various rock openings above into the lake. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed me—I steadied myself and saw it was Pangzi. Seeing my life-or-death companion brought relief. I lit the lamp on my helmet and began searching for the other three.

Since the water here continued rolling eastward into the deep ravine, even a slight relaxation would risk being swept further downstream. Pangzi and I could only swim to the nearby shore, where we shouted at the top of our lungs for a long time—but our voices were drowned by the roar of the rushing water. Ming Shu, A Xiang, and Shirley Yang were all missing.

Pangzi and I agreed: they must have been swept downstream. We hurried to detour and search downstream—we must find them alive or dead. This underground world, with its strange terrain and landscapes, was unlike anything we had ever seen. Just as we took a step, we saw a water-borne mayfly resembling a large dragonfly, its whole body glowing, flying past overhead—over six inches long, like a white ghost dancing in the air.

Just then, I zoned out, not watching my step—this was a scree slope. Pangzi and I stepped on it, couldn't keep our footing, tumbled and slid down. Before we could react, we were already airborne. This slope was short—below was open air. We fell seven or eight meters, landing on a soft, sprawling meadow. For a moment, my head swelled and ached, but luckily the ground was soft, so the fall didn't hurt. Then I suddenly felt something off—this sensation… I had landed on a lump of flesh. I quickly steadied my mind and looked closely: not meat. Pangzi and I exchanged a glance: "This damn thing is probably a mushroom… a ten-story-tall Emperor Mushroom."