Chapter 270

At first glance it seems very complicated, but upon reflection, it makes perfect sense. The distinction of coats of arms relies heavily on color schemes, and under conditions where color sources are extremely limited, ensuring fidelity remains quite difficult.

When the total number of color codes can be counted on two hands, using default pattern conventions to replace colors is a highly time- and labor-saving method, and far more reliable than most unstable dyes.

After its invention, this method naturally expanded to smooth metal or stone surfaces that were hard to dye.

"It seems learning heraldry was the right choice—can you explain what it is?"

"I can only tell you what each texture represents in color." Recognizing colors is a byproduct of heraldic study, but this is clearly not heraldry itself, and Greene couldn't guess the meaning.

The line patterns are far too numerous to mentally reconstruct their colors.

"Alright." Kraft tried imagining the patterns automatically replaced by colors, pondering what they might represent.

First, it's definitely not heraldry—there are no shapes or divisions with any heraldic features; the chaotic lines are extremely hostile to obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

But like organizing tangled threads, you need a starting point—and that recurring band-like pattern works well.

It appears across multiple diagrams, with gentle curves, like silk ribbons wrapping gifts or umbilical cords sustaining life, filled with horizontal stripe textures; if Greene's claim is correct, it means blue.

Kraft mentally filled the blue band with color. Coincidentally, its fill pattern matched the radial lines, yet from the depth of engraving, it belonged to a different "layer."

Even with the blue filled in, there was still no clarity—the image resembled the venous network extracted from a book after injecting a shaping agent: composed of a main trunk and countless branches, yet with no clear hierarchical relationships, each path wandering independently.

With no breakthrough, Kraft turned to other patterns, assigning them colors and feeding them into his associative system.

His mind functioned like a biological reaction vessel: substrates thrown in freely combined with enzymes formed from impressions, catalyzing abstract concepts into new derivatives.

The shapes gradually layered in his vision—their varying engraving depths were not a craftsmanship issue, but a deliberate representation of two overlapping layers.

The blue radial lines differed greatly from other patterns, full of planning and intentionality, radiating from a central point, forming a coherent system.

Each diagram depicted only a portion of it; to illustrate every branch in meticulous detail, vast space was required—only a corridor as tall and long as this one could accommodate this map, split into fragments.

"These are one map, broken apart." Kraft raised his torch, pointing Greene toward the strongly connected radial lines—they stretched like straightened tails of serpentine creatures, spreading wide fractal branches beneath the surface layer.

"There must be a central point—help me find it."

The two split up, examining each wall carving along the corridor; Eiffon, no longer fascinated by the cultivators' prayers, joined them.

New crystals shattered underfoot, making them worry sharp fragments might pierce their soles and be carried out with their steps.

Greene's emphatic call came quickly—he hadn't taken more than a few steps before finding what he sought.

Kraft turned back to him, staring at the wall densely covered in blue lines, all converging into one point.

It wasn't a point—it was a shape spanning the width of an adult's outstretched arms.

【Regular Hexagon】

This hexagon descended in concentric stepped indentations; the innermost layer became a completely black Kong Dong, deeply carved into the wall.

"I feel like I've seen this before..."

Greene opened his carried items, rummaged through them, and pulled out a rolled parchment from a leather cylinder, unrolling and holding it flat, rotating it.

At the right angle, the route portion Kraft had drawn aligned perfectly with the carving.

"Sewer." The meaning of the radial lines was found, "This is a sewer map."

It matched almost exactly Kraft's own sketch, including the routes after blocked sections—a complete, intact sewer map, possibly even more standard and precise.

"Then where are we?"

According to the map, Kraft located the corridor they entered; the waterway lines twisted several times before intersecting the band-like pattern, ending here—a small blank space without pattern appeared in the middle of the band.

This was confusing—if the same texture meant the same thing, then they should currently be inside an extremely wide waterway, at least twenty times wider than a sewer, and possibly even larger if scale was inaccurate.

But in reality, they had encountered a bizarre maze: narrow, winding, and cramped spaces.

"This doesn't make sense." One of the map or their understanding must be wrong—so far, the latter's error seemed far more likely.

Kraft looked up at the map, pondering its interpretation; droplets seeped from above and landed on his face. They had already descended a considerable height from the sewer, yet the damp environment showed no significant change.

"The map is certainly correct—and it's simple. Blue does indeed mean waterway, but not just sewer—it's not on the same level."

"Then what is it?"

"It's already simple—think carefully. A wide waterway existing across most of Dunling—what is it?"

Greene paused, then looked up in surprise—he understood the answer: "The Tem River! This thing is the Tem River!"

"Yes, these are two overlapping maps—surface and underground, with blue indicating waterways." Kraft reached out, catching a droplet on his fingertip—the river water, shimmering with surface light, had seeped through thick rock layers and turned icy-cold, greedily devouring heat.

The long underground corridor had brought them directly beneath the Tem River, explaining the immense water pressure generating the constant seepage.

"Incredible—this kind of engineering, here..." Kraft was stunned by his own conclusion; he had a hunch this might not even be the strangest thing.

"Here!" Eiffon's call snapped them out of their shock—she had found something too.

Kraft rushed to her side, frowned at the girl's discovery—the pattern they thought they'd solved was now veiled in another layer of fog.

【Another Hexagon】

Nearly identical—the initial segments of the radial waterway lines were roughly the same—but the outer patterns differed drastically from the previous one, with differences beginning precisely where actual exploration encountered collapses and blockages.

Yet both corresponded to the exact same surface location, and the entire corridor passage beneath the Tem River remained nearly identical.

Two mutually contradictory local maps.

Continuing down the corridor, they found the third, then fourth hexagon—the radiating corridors differed even more—until the fifth, where the Tem River vanished entirely from the map, and the interrupted corridors were confined to a very short range around the hexagon.

At this point, they reached the corridor's end—a door stood ahead, open inward, faint air currents carrying a foul, rotting stench into their nostrils.

"Call your people—we'll enter only when we're ready."