The fragrance of wine feared no deep alley.
Zhao Feng stood behind Lin Taichu, looking at the words on the stone stele.
"Something from thirty thousand years ago could still be preserved until now. That wasn't easy."
Lin Taichu did not answer and continued walking down.
By the time they reached the thirtieth floor, the atmosphere of the Underground City had clearly changed.
The spaces on the first thirty floors had all been open, like great rooms one after another. Though there had not been many people, they could always run into a few. But once they reached the thirtieth floor, the space began to narrow, the passages began to twist and wind, and there were fewer people.
Lin Taichu carried the lantern in front, while Zhao Feng and the Guards followed behind him, their footsteps echoing through the passage.
After they turned a corner, a slightly more open space appeared ahead. Seven or eight Cultivators sat inside it. When these people saw Lin Taichu walk over, their gazes all shifted to him, but none of them spoke.
Lin Taichu stopped in the space and looked around.
Some ores and beast bones were piled in the corner of the space, their quality much better than what he had seen on the first floor. There were also some bloodstains on the ground. The blood had already dried, its color blackened, and had not been left recently.
A young cultivator stood up from the ground and walked up to Lin Taichu. He glanced at the clothes Lin Taichu was wearing, then glanced at Zhao Feng and the Guards, the expression on his face turning somewhat subtle.
"You came down from above?"
"Yes."
"What are you here for?"
"To find a few people."
The young cultivator sized Lin Taichu up and down.
"Find