初次尝了销魂少妇

Chapter 715: The Entrance

Inside the valley, the team was confronted with an array of black rocks, each one more grotesque and irregularly shaped than the last. Their appearance was unnervingly intricate, giving off an air of malevolence. These rocks did not bear the hallmarks of natural erosion. Yet, it was also evident that human hands hadn’t sculpted them.

The stones bore an uncanny resemblance to a horde of misshapen monsters caught in the midst of a struggle to emerge from the very earth and cliff faces, only to be petrified at the crucial moment of their transformation. Observing these black monoliths more closely, one could discern almost fully formed appendages – claws, tentacles, and even facial features like eyes, mouths, and noses. This sight was so disturbing that even Vanna, an experienced inquisitor, couldn’t suppress a shudder of horror that seemed to seep deep into her bones, heightening her sense of alertness.

A dense mist wove its way throughout the valley, adding to the eerie atmosphere that enveloped the area.

“These stones… they seem as if they possess life,” whispered one of the sailors, cloaked in black and bearing the triangular amulet of the god of death. “It’s as if some kind of creature is trapped within these black encasements… I can’t shake the feeling that they might start moving any second.”

“Keep a hold on your imagination, and avoid letting such thoughts take hold,” chided a death priest from the Resolved, a man of few words since their arrival on the island.

Duncan’s attention shifted to the stoic death priest in question — a tall, bald figure shrouded in a black cloak, his exposed skin etched with intricate and dense black rune tattoos, which extended even across his eyelids. This gave the priest a deeply unsettling, somber, and almost terrifying appearance.

There seemed to be a palpable tension between the Death Church and the Vanished, noticeable in the limited interactions between the leading priest and Duncan. However, upon noticing Duncan’s gaze, the strikingly tattooed bald man turned and acknowledged him with a polite nod, “Do you have a question?”

“I remember you’re named Norm,” Duncan began, nodding in return. “After the conclusion of Frost’s incident, numerous ‘elemental’ samples extracted from Frost’s pipeline system were delivered to the Death Church’s headquarters. Are you familiar with this?”

“I’ve been intimately involved with those samples,” Norm responded nonchalantly, “They’re quite remarkable.”

“What’s your take on these ‘traces’ we’ve found on this island?”

Norm took a moment, his face betraying a hint of unease as he thoughtfully replied to Duncan’s query, “They seem to originate from the same source, but there’s a distinct difference. The ‘samples’ we received from Frost are a repulsive and frigid material, entirely inert, showing no signs of change or activity. But here…”

He paused, bending down to casually pick up a small stone from the ground.

“Most people might overlook it, but I sense it… there’s still activity inside. It’s still undergoing gradual transformations,” Norm explained, his voice tinged with a sense of esoteric knowledge. “It’s difficult to articulate exactly what this sensation is. It’s a unique perception we can detect as followers of the death god. To put it in words… it aligns with what Miss Shirley mentioned earlier. This entire island seems ‘alive’. Despite its current dormant state, every aspect of it is imbued with life, existing in a state akin to death, yet not completely devoid of vitality.”

Duncan gave a slight nod, absorbing this information in silence.

The gathered intelligence suggested that the island had been altered by the enigmatic powers of the Nether Lord. Furthermore, based on the visions Shirley experienced from those illusions, the island could be perceived as a fragment of flesh that had separated from the Nether Lord’s body. If it indeed was a piece of an ancient deity, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to think that it retained some life force, even after being detached for millennia.

What truly baffled Duncan was the island’s evolution into its current form, straddling the boundary of reality. Everything from the trees, stones, and soil, to the streams carving through the ravines, and the various resources and minerals found on the island, all seemed to be part of this transformation.

Even the annihilation cultists had exploited these resources to construct towns and docks.

This led Duncan to ponder the true nature of the “Nether Lord.” Before being revered as an “ancient god” from the deep sea era, what exactly was this entity known as LH-01, or “Navigator #1”?

And then there was another entity with a similar designation, supposedly called “Navigator #2,” the “God of Wisdom, Lahem.” This being seemed vastly different from the Nether Lord in both power and form. What underlined this contrast between LH-01 and LH-02?

Duncan felt there was something crucial he was missing, a piece of the puzzle that lay beyond the labels LH-01 and LH-02, a question he hadn’t yet considered…

However, his contemplation was interrupted when Shirley suddenly slowed her pace from the front.

“I’ve ‘seen’ this place before,” she said, blinking as she stood amidst the rubble in an open area of the foggy valley. She looked around, recalling the images from the complex illusions. “This is where those idiotic cultists gathered when the sun was out. They gathered here, shouting and proclaiming their dumb ‘enlightenment’… Their excavation site should be nearby… This area used to be off-limits because something here instilled fear in them. But when the sun went out, their minds twisted, and fear no longer held them back…”

Nearby, Amber, the female priest, furrowed her brow in slight confusion.

She turned to Vanna and remarked, “…Did I just hear Miss Shirley casually say something quite impolite?”

“Only just noticed?” Vanna replied, a hint of surprise in her voice, “She’s always been like that.”

Amber looked perplexed, “?”

Shirley, seemingly lost in her own world, paid no heed to the conversations happening around her. Her focus was entirely captured by the cascading memories flooding her mind and the strangely familiar sensations evoked by the valley before her. Taking a couple of steps forward, her eyes began to emit a soft, blood-red glow, methodically scanning the encompassing mist. It didn’t take long for her to detect a presence, one that was both profound and familiar, emanating from somewhere ahead.

“The presence is stronger this way,” she announced, her eyes returning to their normal hue. She then confidently extended her hand, pointing towards a narrow passageway amidst the cliffs ahead. “They started their excavation from here!”

The crevice, just wide enough for two people to walk through side by side, appeared to be a natural feature of the canyon at first glance. But upon closer inspection, it became clear that human hands had expanded and modified it. Scattered near the entrance were remnants of digging tools, their original users seemingly devoured by the voracious embrace of the surrounding rocks and soil. These tools were the last testament to their existence in this world.

After a brief inspection of the crevice, Amber stepped back and addressed the group. “The path below is narrow, and the conditions are unknown. It would be wise for only a few of us to go down and investigate.” She suggested, “Let’s set up camp near the entrance and have a select few venture further.”

“I’ll lead the expedition,” Duncan declared nonchalantly. “Alice, Shirley, Dog… and Morris, you’re with me. Vanna, Amber, and Norm, set up the camp here and keep an eye on things on the surface.”

His choice of team members was deliberate. Alice’s potential connection to the Nether Lord made her presence essential for his mission. Shirley and Dog would act as guides in the depths, while Morris’ extensive knowledge and adventuring experience made him invaluable for such exploration.

Vanna, however, seemed to have other plans. “Shouldn’t I join you? We might encounter enemies below, and you’ll need combat support…”

“We might face threats up here as well,” Duncan replied. He glanced again into the cramped space within the crevice and then turned to Vanna with a serious look. “Besides, the passage is too constricted down there for your usual combat style.”

Vanna appeared momentarily taken aback by his remark, then responded with a touch of awkwardness, “…I have other tactics, not just that one.”

However, her protest was more of a mumble, and she quickly agreed with the plan. “Alright, we’ll establish the camp here and also scout the other areas of the valley.”

Duncan nodded his approval. “Good. Keep in contact and call out immediately if anything arises.”

“Yes, Captain!”

As Duncan, alongside Morris, Alice, Shirley, and Dog, began their descent into the dark, forbidding entrance that led deeper underground, Vanna remained above, her gaze lingering on the figures vanishing into the shadows. A subtle, eerie greenish light emanated from the passage’s depths, casting an otherworldly glow. She exhaled softly, her thoughts seemingly as deep as the passage before her. Then, she noticed Amber standing close by, her gaze fixed intently in the same direction, her face etched with a look of quiet contemplation.

Feeling a bit self-conscious under Amber’s steady gaze, Vanna inquired, “…Why are you staring at me like that?”

After a brief pause, Amber ventured a question, her tone laced with genuine curiosity. “…In situations like these, isn’t it customary for you to invoke the name of the goddess?”

Vanna’s expression momentarily stiffened, caught off guard by the inquiry.

The inquisitor pondered for a brief moment before regaining her composure. She turned to Amber with a serious demeanor, “It’s fine to do so inwardly.”

Amber appeared genuinely surprised by this revelation. “…You can do that?”

“Yes, you can.”

“…And the goddess approves of this?”

With a face full of devout conviction, Vanna responded, “I asked, and She did not express any objections.”

Amber’s expression conveyed her continued bewilderment: “…?”

Meanwhile, Norm, who had been standing nearby with an impassive demeanor (largely due to his heavily tattooed face obscuring any discernible expressions), quietly traced the triangular symbol of the death god on his chest. He let out a long, almost inaudible sigh of tense relaxation while being lost in his own thoughts and unnoticed by the others.

Back in the descending passage, Shirley was proceeding cautiously with Dog by her side. The dim, green flames flickered softly, casting their ghostly light on the rocky walls, revealing the path ahead. Shirley, with one hand on Dog’s chain and the other brushing against the cold, smooth stone of the tunnel wall, wore a look of intense focus. A faint, blood-red light glimmered deep within her eyes, hinting at the complex thoughts and perceptions swirling within her mind.