124: Chapter 124 Mysterious Mural

The sound of the stone door slowly closing behind them was like an ancient behemoth shutting a maw that had not been closed for a thousand years; the dull roar echoed in the rift for three breaths before gradually fading away.

Wang Sheng stood before the passage inside the stone door, thick golden spiritual energy flowing slowly within his body, forcing the shadows back by half an inch within a five-meter radius.

Golden Spirit Runes on the cliff walls on both sides of the passage flickered with a faint golden light like ancient stars, but under the erosion of the dark purple Spirit Runes, the golden light flickered on and off like fireflies entangled in spider webs, struggling and refusing to extinguish before the darkness.

The passage, as if cleft underground by the palm of an ancient god, had cliff walls about twenty meters high on both sides, where two of the most towering stone steles stood amidst golden Spirit Runes; the cliff walls were covered with ancient murals, the ancient history of the Savage era condensed onto these two stone walls.

The colors of the murals had faded under the erosion of a thousand years of shadows, like an old painting soaked by rain, but within the remaining pigments, one could still discern the lines of the most ancient memories of the Savage wilderness.

Wang Sheng raised his right fist, and the driven golden spiritual energy spilled out between his knuckles like golden flames, illuminating the murals on both sides of the passage.

The first mural was carved at the very front of the left cliff wall.

Twelve rays of light, bright as the sun, descended from the sky, and within each ray of light stood a human figure between heaven and earth, like twelve of the most towering mountains, casting long shadows from the heights of the Savage Continent.

The silhouettes of those twelve human figures were all different; some were war gods wielding swords, some were wise men holding pens, and some were prophets holding lamps, but every figure emitted a light even hotter than the sun.

Behind them, a hundred races knelt in the grandest worship between heaven and earth; the Human Race, Beast Race, Elf Race, Dragonborn Race, Frost Race, and Sea Race—the silhouette of every race was in a kneeling posture, the most devout believers offering deep respect toward the holy light.

But directly in front of the twelve rays of light, a patch of black mist-like shadow spread from the bottom right corner of the mural, surging toward the twelve rays of light like a greedy beast.

In the deepest part of the shadow were a pair of giant eyes like red moons, watching this world as a symbol of the end; that pair of giant eyes like red moons were two baleful stars in the shadows of the mural, flickering with ominous light in the ancient night sky of the Savage Continent.

Wang Sheng's brown eyes narrowed slightly before the mural; a sharp sense of alertness and crisis forced him to stop.

He saw that pair of giant eyes like red moons, saw the shadows surging fiercely toward the twelve rays of light under the gaze of the red moon.

He saw the most ancient battlefield of the Savage Continent in the mural, recorded for the first time countless years ago on this stone wall, which was even older than the Savage wilderness itself.

The second mural was carved on the right cliff wall of the passage.

The collision of the twelve rays of light and the shadows was the ultimate duel between the sun and the darkness, exploding on the most ancient battlefield of the Savage Continent; heaven and earth shattered in the collision, like a torn canvas.

Mountains and rivers flowed like melted wax, and the oceans vanished like evaporated tears.

Every brushstroke in the mural was like scalding pigment, carving the most tragic battlefield onto the stone wall, and every inch of pigment retained traces of power fluctuations like mournful cries.

"The Ancient War of Gods and Demons." Zhao Linger's voice came from the center of the team, carrying a slight tremor; her round eyes were wide open before the mural, like two of the brightest ambers reflecting the lingering images of the Ancient War of Gods and Demons in the mural.

Her eyes reflected the most ancient war of the Savage wilderness. Her Spirit Sound Affinity captured the residual ancient sounds within the mural—a sound... as if the entire Savage Continent were trembling.

The third mural was carved in the middle section of the left cliff wall.

The twelve rays of light gradually dimmed, like the last radiance of the setting sun before a storm, slowly sinking into the horizon in the most ancient sky of the Savage wilderness; the shadows were pushed back inch by inch, and the black flood, like a receding tide, left the deepest shadow marks on the ancient coastline of the Savage wilderness.

In the end, the twelve rays of light, the twelve most brilliant stars, fell to the earth, using themselves as a lock to seal the shadows.

The twelve stars that fell to the earth in the mural were like twelve towering tombs, imprisoning the shadows forever in the deepest shadows of the Savage Continent.

The Seal.

The twelve falling stars in the mural sealed the shadows in the deepest darkness; the fall of each star burned out its last glimmer of light in the profound darkness, suppressing the shadows forever in the deepest underground.

The fourth mural was carved in the middle section of the right cliff wall.

Above the seal, the hundred races rebuilt, and all things recovered; the Human Race built new tribes upon the ruins, the Beast Race ran again in the wilderness, the Elf Race sang again in the ancient trees, the Dragonborn Race forged armor again in the volcanoes, the Frost Race carved again in the ice fields, and the Sea Race roamed again in the deep sea.

The new spring of the Savage Continent in the mural displayed a state of vibrant vitality amidst the reconstruction of the hundred races.

But in the corner of the mural, there was a dark purple trace; the shadow, like a poisonous snake, was infiltrating through the finest cracks in the seal.

That dark purple trace, from the bottom right corner of the mural, snaked out like an evil serpent from the cracks of the seal, searching for the darkest corner in the corner of the mural where the hundred races were rebuilding, amidst the warmest spring of the Savage wilderness.

Zhao Linger's Spirit Sound Affinity captured the residual ancient sounds before the mural; it was the most ancient sound string being plucked for the first time after countless years, a sound that surged with the deepest undercurrents within the ancient stone wall.

Her round eyes widened suddenly, and she let out continuous, clear, trembling chirps; her Spirit Sound Affinity restored the residual ancient sounds, using the most precise sound waves, into everyone's ears.

"The Shadow... is infiltrating... from the cracks in the seal..." Her voice trembled slightly, as if soaked in ancient coldness.

Cold sweat soaked through the thin clothing on her body, revealing her beautiful figure.

She let out a most trembling sound, "The Shadow Clan... is the extension... of the Demon God's remnant soul..."

She took a deep breath, her petite body trembling involuntarily under her Savage Beast silk short shirt, a feeling of fear spreading.

"The Shadow Clan is not an original race of the Savage wilderness; they are the extension of the Demon God's remnant soul that has infiltrated from the cracks of the seal!"

Wang Sheng stood before the mural, surging spiritual energy flowing slowly amidst the golden Spirit Runes; he looked at that dark purple trace in the corner of the fourth mural, the scene of the shadow infiltrating through the cracks of the seal, the golden light in his brown eyes shining with determination.

The Shadow Clan is the extension of the Demon God's remnant soul.

This means that all the actions of the Shadow Clan are the will of the Demon God's remnant soul, including driving the Beast Tide, monitoring the Bright Tribe, supporting Zhao Mang, setting up surveillance outposts deep in the Savage Beast Forest, and laying traps in the ruins.

That pair of giant eyes like red moons in the mural watched everything outside the mural, never ceasing to search for dark corners.

"They are not conquering the Central Wasteland Region." Wang Sheng's voice was as firm as golden iron being forged. "They are executing the will of the Demon God's remnant soul."

Liu Ruyan stood silently in the shadows before the mural, her smoky, misty eyes fixed on the dark purple trace in the corner of the fourth mural, gazing at the most ancient source of the shadows.

Her lips were slightly pursed, calm and without a trace of superfluous emotion.

Xiao Yuqing scanned the shadows at the end of the passage with the vigilance of a Rainstorm Archer, like an alert eagle searching for dangerous prey in the shadows; her neat short hair flashed and vanished in the shadows amidst the faint light of the golden Spirit Runes.

Warm Sun Warlock Wen Qingxue brought up the rear; the golden spiritual energy of the Warm Sun Warlock flowed slowly in the passage like a small, warm sun, guarding the safest path home on the edge of the shadows with gentle light.

The five of them continued to go deeper.

At the end of the passage was a huge circular hall, about fifty meters in diameter, looking somewhat like an arena.

The dome of the hall was about fifteen meters high, and it was covered with golden sun Spirit Runes, but most had gradually dimmed under the erosion of the dark purple Spirit Runes.

The floor of the hall was carved with crisscrossing Spirit Rune channels, spreading out underground like a chessboard, but a layer of dark purple mist permeated the channels, floating in the air.

"Phantom Maze." Zhao Linger's Spirit Sound Affinity was distorted in the mist, her voice grave and slightly trembling.

"The mist will distort perception; sound, spiritual energy, and direction are all distorted. My Spirit Sound detection can only cover three meters in the mist."

Xiao Yuqing shot a spiritual energy arrow at the edge of the mist to test it; the spiritual energy arrow deviated from its course in the mist like a broken-winged bird, and the arrow was twisted ninety degrees in the dark purple mist as if carried by some strange undercurrent, finally shooting toward a position completely opposite to the target, as if a mirror had inverted everything.

The ancient illusion swapped the positions of reality and illusion in the profound darkness.

Wang Sheng tried to purify the mist with the Power of Holy Light, the golden spiritual energy of a Savage General Rank 1 between his knuckles, attempting to illuminate the path ahead, but the golden holy light could only illuminate a one-meter radius in the dark purple mist.

Like a firefly in the thick black fog, it could only illuminate the faint light on its own wings.

The shadow concentration of the mist far exceeded the shadow erosion in the Beast Tide; Wang Sheng's Power of Holy Light was being devoured mouthful by mouthful within it.

"Let me." Liu Ruyan's voice was soft but firm, without a trace of superfluous emotion, and her dagger had no superfluous curvature either.

She closed her smoky, misty eyes.

The Phantom Assassin's ultimate perception skill, Shadow Perception, activated like stars in the instant she closed her eyes.

Her body in the mist was as natural as water merging into the sea; the shadow returned to the shadows, like a fish in water.

The dark purple mist was no longer an obstacle but wrapped around her, like soft silk gently embracing her in a warm hug.

Because the Phantom Assassin used shadow power itself.

She opened her smoky, misty eyes in the mist and finally saw the essence of the black fog.

In her eyes, the dark purple mist was a most complex web woven by countless threads in the air, but the flow of every thread, the spacing of every mesh, and the rotation direction of every vortex were clearly unfolded in her mind through Shadow Perception.

The Phantom Assassin was like a fish in water in the shadows, as if she had returned home.