Chapter 264: Underwater

The first line of defense behind the door was quickly identified: several long strings tied with jingling bells, crisscrossing at different positions from near the ceiling down to below knee height, blocking anything attempting to pass in any possible way.

This seemed to be a transitional corridor; some structures inconsistent with the sewer style expanded to both sides, piercing through the original side walls and stacking new wine-cellar-like compartments with smaller, more obviously man-made bricks.

These expanded spaces were occupied by temporarily erected wooden frames and large barrels; the smell of grease was so thick it made one nauseous, with transparent, thin refracted colors trickling down the shining surfaces to merge into the water ripples.

Thick ropes connected what looked like unstable support posts, passed through several simple pulley structures, and extended behind the second door at the end of this corridor, where a faint light shone through.

The team closed the shutters of all their lanterns, immersing themselves in oily darkness, and slowly approached that glimmer of light.

They could hear the cultivator ahead suddenly freeze for a moment, seemingly startled, splashing up a small patch of water.

Kraft soon learned the source of the fright—cold liquid dripping onto his face, as if something were drooling above his head, but upon careful feeling, it turned out to be merely condensed water droplets.

The droplets seeped out sparsely yet continuously from the cracks between the rock-layer bricks, their origin unknown.

Intermittent conversation voices came from the light, kept very low, unwilling to let even the slightest echo cross the two stone doors and enter the depths of the waterway.

The cultivators hid one by one in the shadows behind the door, distinguishing the voices within. Though not very clear, two different pitches could still be identified, complaining about the damned sewer and the duty hours.

They chatted as if grasping at straws, exchanging the same hatred for this task.

The crossbowman approached the stone door opening, listened for a while, then decisively entered; stepping forward two paces to make way for those following, he simultaneously aimed at the predicted direction.

He did not shoot immediately but chose to wait a moment instead. Green slipped through the door crack, accelerating into a run within a few steps, moving with the lightness of a black raven skimming the water's surface.

The inevitable sound of water breaking finally drew attention; the guard curled up within the light range noticed his companion's horrified silence, then turned to look back.

A very fast black line brushed past the edge of his peripheral vision, while his field of view was engulfed by a rapidly enlarging figure; before his fear-stalled throat could issue a warning, the sword blade thrust out from a cunning angle shielded by the robe, refusing any loud clamor.

On the other person, the winch crossbow's destructive power, earned by minutes of winding time, was fully demonstrated: entering through the face and exiting the temple, it destroyed consciousness at the physical level in an instant.

Kraft put away his hand crossbow. "Looks like there's nothing for me to do for now."

"We'd better figure out what place this is quickly." Green delivered another sword strike to the target that was no longer moving, then casually wiped the bloodstains from the blade on the body. "Such sentries have shifts."

The team finally had time to observe their location; they had transitioned from the rarely changing sewer to a place with more of a "human touch."

This was a small stone chamber with six walls; water flowed out from a gate in the corner, gathered in a central reservoir via channels, and was directed into the sewer, leaving several patches of ground not submerged in water.

The ropes seen earlier extended here, converging onto a balancing device right beside the guard; pulling the trigger mechanism would cause a heavy object suspended high above to drop, releasing stored potential energy, pulling the ropes, and knocking down the wooden frames supporting the oil barrels in the front corridor.

Besides the door leading to the waterway, there was a second, smaller arched door inside the room, large enough for only one person to pass; behind it lay an upward staircase, its striped surface indicating it was the result of quarrying craftsmanship.

But this place had clearly undergone some special repairs; the walls were polished to be relatively flat and bore relief traces of significant age.

Judging by the craftsmanship, it depicted a group of figures from an early period when the concept of human anatomy was lacking; to carve the faces, the head-to-body ratios were often unbalanced, making the hands, which appeared rather short, hold up flags, trays, and items seemingly for rituals.

The already ancient and rough reliefs had also suffered brutal destruction; several parts were knocked out outright, leaving damaged traces standing a full head taller than ordinary figures.

They stood in a setting resembling a tiered theater; lacking spatial perspective techniques, the figures were carved standing in rows from high to low, like a dull, massive group photo printed on the wall, all facing forward with their full faces outward.

Constant seepage still dripped from above, making one feel as if performing a boring play for a silent audience filling the entire hall while standing in the rain.

The relief figures, with numb and blurred expressions, stood shoulder to shoulder, their pupil-less eyes returning a gaze without focus.

Upon closer inspection, the personnel composition was complex; besides common robes of indeterminate type, there were also armored outfits, clustered around the area where parts had been gouged out.

It would be strange if Kraft's kingdom history knowledge could reveal anything; just as he was about to act quickly, he discovered Green was observing a figure in a slightly special position.

Located in the upper right corner of a wall, this figure wore a pointed high hat, with symmetrical tray-bearing attendants on both sides, and someone behind holding up a banner high; he must have held some status. To Kraft, he might have been some noble, but without any heraldic symbols, he was completely unidentifiable.

"Who is this?"

"I'm not sure." Green hesitated, then opened the lantern shutter to prepare to step onto the stairs. "This is unlikely, at least it doesn't make sense... no, maybe not necessarily, but it has nothing to do with the present—I guarantee it."

"Alright, since you say so." Kraft shrugged, tactfully giving up further questioning, and finally scanned the room once more, searching for any detail he might have missed.

Logically, his and Green's level of historical knowledge wasn't too far apart; they shouldn't have overlooked anything.

No more clues were found on the walls, but it did draw his attention to the room's only blind spot—the reservoir. The water quality inside was exceptionally clear, unlike the water bodies discharged from urban metabolism, which reminded him of another matter.

"Why is there always seepage here?" Catching a falling water droplet in his palm, the improved lighting conditions made him realize these seeping fluids were quite clean.

No one could answer this question. Although there was not a single dry spot in the sewer, this place was indeed excessively damp, as if a massive body of water lay overhead, with enormous pressure continuously forcing moisture down into the deep strata below.

Kraft called out to Green, squatted by the pool, and wanted to observe more closely.

The transparency of the water in the pool was quite good; upon careful observation, it could be seen that the pool bottom, about two arm-lengths deep, was not empty.

Dense hexagonal stone carvings clustered and bulged upward, assembling into a hemispherical back shell; fine, short, whisker-like fractal arcs were distributed along the edges, and webbed structures rose from the mud and sand between them, as if about to stir the water ripples and float upward at any moment.

The carving was so vivid that it seemed the craftsman had received inspiration far beyond his era at some moment, extracting a living creature that was already within the stone.