After stretching a little, Liu Zhi assessed his stamina. Then, holding his longsword, he continued down.
He could still fight for now, so there was no need to go back and rest, giving the enemies below a chance to grow stronger for nothing.
He pushed open the stone door, which had once been impossible to budge, and headed for the stairs leading down. Liu Zhi noticed stone oil lamps lining both sides of the steps, though the oil inside had long since dried up, and even the wicks had begun to rot.
After descending two levels, Liu Zhi finally noticed something different on the surrounding walls.
Just like the rest of the Golden City, this place was filled with a fusion of three imperial styles: the sun patterns of the Maya civilization, the murals of the Inca civilization, and the carvings of the Aztecs. They all faithfully recorded certain events.
Liu Zhi had already grown quite familiar with these depictions in several living quarters outside. He only needed one glance to instinctively recognize what the murals were trying to convey.
They seemed to tell the story of the Golden City's origins. It appeared that all three great empires of the Americas had shared a prophecy: at a certain time, white-skinned demons would cross the sea, standing atop white clouds. That would mark the fall of the gods of the three great empires and the beginning of their end.
So one day, when a white-skinned demon appeared on their land, the three empires finally joined forces and imprisoned it here.
Liu Zhi didn't know what to make of it. The murals were so old that he had no way of seeing what the demon had looked like. But one thing was clear: defeating the demon hadn't taken long. Building a Golden