bookbashuk Page 106
Page 106
After a brief moment of stunned silence, his figure vanished instantly, landing silently at the edge of the pit.
He looked down and could vaguely see in the dim light that the cave was hundreds of meters deep, and the space at the bottom was several times wider than the cracks in the ground, as if it had been deliberately carved out into a hidden world.
Amidst the mottled rock walls, several remaining columns are half-hidden in the shadows, their shafts etched with indistinct cloud patterns.
Although weathered and peeled away, it can still be discerned that it appears to be some kind of architectural remnant.
Further away stood a dozen stone statues, all dressed as armored warriors, holding broken swords and shields. The statues had stern facial features and deep-set eyes.
Even though it was covered with a thin layer of dust, the chilling aura guarding this place still pierced through the gloom and rushed towards us.
With a gentle flick of his fingertips, a wisp of magical power, like a wisp of silk, probed into the cave, touching only the rock walls and stone statues.
There was not a trace of life inside the cave.
Mu Qinghan's gaze suddenly sharpened, his pupils reflecting the darkness of the cave's depths. Without the slightest hesitation, he lightly touched the edge of the pit with his toes and plunged into it.
The moment my feet touched the ground, a very faint "click" sound came from the soles of my feet, as if some ancient mechanism had been activated.
The next second, the bronze torches embedded in the rock walls on both sides of the cave lit up one after another, and orange-red flames shot up from the wicks, dispelling the thick darkness.
As the firelight flickered, the scene inside the cave became increasingly clear.
The bluish-gray ground was as smooth as a mirror, with only a few scattered pebbles and not a trace of accumulated dust, clearly indicating that it was regularly maintained.
A faint scent of sandalwood filled the air.
It's not the cheap incense shavings commonly found in the marketplace, but rather high-quality sandalwood with a scent reminiscent of sinking sandalwood.
The damp scent mingled with the rocky walls lingered in my nostrils.
This added a touch of inexplicable solemnity to the otherwise desolate cave.
He raised his hand and brushed the armor of a warrior statue beside him. When he looked up again, his gaze had passed over the broken pillars and landed on the stone door at the deepest part of the cave.
Although the ancient inscriptions on the door are blurred, they still exude a profound sense of weight that is completely different from the surrounding atmosphere.
He took half a step forward and lightly touched the door panel with his fingertips.
There were no keyholes or grooves on the stone surface, only a faint dark pattern winding along the hinge, indicating that it was firmly locked by some kind of mechanism and could not be opened by ordinary means.
As he pondered, he put his left hand behind his back, and raised the index and middle fingers of his right hand together, condensing a wisp of sword energy at the fingertips.
With a clear clang, the long sword at his waist was suddenly drawn, its blade slashing straight at the stone gate.
The seemingly heavy stone gate was cut in half as easily as paper.
Immediately afterwards, two more intersecting sword lights flashed, instantly slicing the entire stone door into four pieces, which fell heavily to the ground, raising a cloud of fine stone dust.
Before the stone dust had even settled, a cool breeze rushed in from behind the door. In addition to the damp smell unique to the depths of the cave, the wind also carried a very faint sound, like the laughter of a child.
"Hey hey hey..."
"Hahaha…"
"Welcome, Your Highness..."
The laughter was light and faint, as if it came from a very far place, or as if it were right next to your ear.
Mu Qinghan frowned slightly.
A surge of magical power suddenly emanated from his body, spreading outwards like ripples, instantly reaching tens of thousands of meters away.
His perception permeated every inch of the cave's rock walls and every dark corner.
The insects in the rock crevices, the moss in the stone crevices, and even the sound of water flowing deep underground can be clearly heard.
But apart from these and that stray dog a few miles away, there was still no other living creature...
Nothing...
Mu Qinghan's toes trod over the scattered fragments of the stone gate, his robes fluttering slightly in the cool breeze that rushed in from behind the gate, each step taken extremely slowly.
The magical energy fluctuations around him had not yet dissipated, as if an invisible barrier enveloped him.
Upon entering the space behind the stone gate, his pupils suddenly contracted slightly, and his breathing subconsciously paused for a beat.
As far as the eye can see, there are countless "statues" standing densely packed together. Their shapes are distorted, some are in the posture of waving claws, and some are curled up in a ball.
Its surface is covered with fine gravel, and at first glance it looks no different from an ordinary rock sculpture.
But the next second, he realized.
Those were not cold rocks, but... the bodies of countless sand demons!
There was no trace of life flowing beneath the skin.
Mu Qinghan's gaze swept over the faces of those "statues," their狰狞 (zhengning - ferocious) features frozen in the agony of death.
They were piled up haphazardly like discarded garbage, some stacked into small mountains several meters high, others scattered into winding "rivers of corpses".
Even more bizarrely, at the top of each mountain of corpses, a cluster of eerie blue flames leaped, the flames having no heat, only a bone-chilling cold.
As the wind blew through the gaps in the mountain of corpses, the firelight flickered violently, casting the shadows of the surrounding corpses into a ghostly contortion.
Just then, the faint "laughter" sounded again, no longer the previous delicate and sweet sound, but became clearer.
It was as if countless sounds were superimposed, emerging from the depths of the mountain of corpses and from the cracks in the flames, wandering and swirling in the empty space, carrying an indescribable chill.
"Hee hee hee--"
"Your Highness, please slow down..."
"Your Highness, would you like something delicious to eat?"
Mu Qinghan frowned even more deeply and raised his right hand slightly.
A wisp of pure magical power condensed in his palm, and with a flick of his fingertips, the magical power transformed into a half-open blue snow lotus in the air, its petals unfolding layer by layer.
The soft yet bright light spread out instantly, illuminating the entire space in every detail.
Wherever the light reached, the scene became increasingly terrifying.
In the darkness in the distance, the corpses of sand demons were piled up, stretching as far as the eye could see. Thousands upon thousands of bodies were stacked on top of each other, and even the cracks in the ground were filled with sand and limbs.
Even Mu Qinghan was stunned at this moment, a hint of astonishment flashing in his eyes.
Who did this?
Why kill so many...sand demons?
Just as he was pondering, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a small protrusion in the corner of his left eye, which stood out from the mess of corpses around him.
He walked over slowly, and when he saw what the object looked like, his pupils contracted again.
It wasn't a rock or a limb, but a stone tablet half-buried in the sand.
The tombstone was rough, with a few blurry lines engraved on its surface, and some traces of weathering remained at the top. It was a simple tombstone!
Mu Qinghan stopped in front of the half-buried tombstone, her fingertips hovering in mid-air, her hand, which had been holding magical power, suddenly stiffened slightly.
The light from the blue snow lotus fell on the monument, dispersing the sand on its surface and making the engravings gradually clearer.
The handwriting is not neat, and even hastily executed, yet each stroke is deeply engraved, as if trying to embed the name into the very core of the stone tablet.
“Wang…quan…wu…mu…”
When the first word came into view, his movements suddenly stopped, and his breath seemed to be choked.
His Adam's apple bobbed, and almost instinctively he reached out and gently touched the four characters "Wang Quan Wu Mu" with his fingertips.
The rough surface of the monument made my fingertips slightly numb, but the sensation was incredibly real, not an illusion.
"Royal power... Wu Mu!?"
Chapter 128 The Truth of What Happened Back Then (2)
This must be... fake, right?
Mu Qinghan pressed his fingertips on the surface of the monument, his Adam's apple bobbed, but he ultimately remained silent.
Fragmented memories suddenly burst forth, flooding Mu Qinghan's thoughts in an instant.
He was only ten years old that year, sitting in a carriage with a vast forest stretching out the window.
He poked at his father's ancient book with his fingertip. The pages were covered with dense text, and at the end was a light ink painting.
The boy stood before the sword mound, a corner of his robe fluttering in the wind, his eyes bright.
"Father, is this 'Wang Quan Wu Mu' very powerful?"
He tugged at his father's sleeve, full of curiosity.
Upon hearing this, the father paused, his gaze falling on the painting, his tone filled with emotion.
"A genius of his time, who comprehended the essence of the King's Sword, was praised by his predecessors as 'unrivaled in the world'."
"It's a pity he was killed by the demon race; he died when he was just over ten years old."
At that time, Mu Qinghan only vaguely understood the phrase "unrivaled in the world".
While feeling regretful, he also told himself that he must live on no matter what, reach the pinnacle of life, and see the world's wonders.
He believed that such a legend would surely be buried in the ancestral tomb of Wangquan Mountain Villa after his death, with his tombstone inscribed with praise and worshipped by generations of clansmen.
But now, he was squatting deep in the desert, with only a half-person-high green rock tombstone in front of him. The edges were worn smooth by the wind and sand, and even the name was only a blurry mark.
How could the genius whom his father called "unrivaled in the world," the legend whose fate was lamented by countless people, be buried in this dark and sunless place?
There isn't even a decent tombstone?
The tombstone in front of me was no more than half a person's height, made of very ordinary bluestone, with its edges long since worn away.
There is no incense, no eulogy, and even their names are almost erased by the yellow sand; they are trapped in the depths of this desolate desert where the sun never shines.
There is a cenotaph in Wangquan Villa.
He went with his father to see him.
The white marble stele is inscribed with gilded inscriptions, with stone figures and horses standing on either side, and servants sweeping and cleaning it in all four seasons.
Two tombs, one revered by thousands within the village, the other eroded by wind and sand in the desolate countryside.
Which one... is the true home?
The records say that he was killed by the Demon Emperor Fan Yunfei.