Going up the mountain was easy; going down was even easier.
Strictly speaking, there was not a single normal person in Jia Xiu's group. There were not even many humans among them.
So the difficulties posed by physical terrain were basically no difficulty at all to them.
Those who could fly flew, those who could teleport teleported, and those who could roll rolled.
Ram was the one rolling.
He said this was how he had always gone downhill before—fast, fun, and he had never been hurt.
Ram claimed it was very safe.
And just like that, in barely a few minutes, Jia Xiu's group arrived before the ruins of the temple.
Seen up close, this temple was even more shocking than it had been from afar.
Dozens of giant pillars carved with unfamiliar spiral patterns leaned at every angle, some half-fallen. The weathered grooves and those still clear at a glance marked out the windward sides. The wind swept over the stone pillars and walls, producing a peculiar wailing sound, like some strange buzzing hum.
Jia Xiu had never seen this unfamiliar architectural style before. Then again, he had not seen many kinds of buildings to begin with. The richest variety he had encountered was the Devil Race's abstract patchwork imitations in Gawad, so he chose to ask his companions.
"Is this an architectural style found on the continent?"
Even the two oldest among them shook their heads.
"Never seen it."
"It definitely isn't from the Elves' side."
"The Iris Kingdom doesn't have anything like this..."
Even Justina, who had been remotely watching a livestream through Jia Xiu's vision, joined in through a divine oracle.
"I haven't seen it either."
Hearing Justina's voice, Jia Xiu suddenly wanted to confirm something.
"What are you seeing right now?"
As he spoke, he