The Blood Waterfall Long Staircase
The frost faded, and the mirror gleamed clear.
By the time Fu Qian was idly turning the Bell Staff in his hand, not a sound could be heard around him.
At the same time, the mirrors stretching as far as the eye could see seemed to have returned to their original nature, reflecting true images.
And with all the intersecting angles, countless figures overlapped in layer upon layer at a glance.
Especially once Fu Qian finally put away the Bell Staff and started walking down. The reflections shifted and changed like a kaleidoscope.
Of course, these simple visual tricks had no effect on Fu Qian.
What he found more intriguing was the shape of the passage itself.
The transition from an invisible road to this mirror chamber could, to a certain extent, be called a dimensional change.
This invisible palace seemed to be growing more and more real.
Perhaps, as one sank deeper into corruption, quantitative change eventually gave rise to qualitative change.
It was even becoming livelier.
Aside from the mathematical giant he had just encountered, Fu Qian was thinking about the scene from when he first entered this place.
The many figures of saints, clad in white robes.
People tended to fall into habitual ways of thinking. Given the reflections he was seeing as he walked now, it was easy to assume that the figures from before had been reflections of the giant.
But what if they weren't?
Based on his earlier deductions, the giant had to have a rather unusual connection to that tree. What if the figures beneath those robes were just like him?
All saints, and Fu Qian had been surrounded by them from the very beginning?
This was no alarmist speculation. It came from good habits of thought and