The farther up they went, the drier it became.
Deep in the Underworld, there had originally been no distinction between day and night.
Except along this ancient road through the Underworld.
On this Ancient Road, time was always flowing.
The closer they came to the top, the more they felt an unspoken terror.
That silent scrutiny, those deities devoid of reason.
Traces of spells had already appeared beside Lin Feng's hands, and several extra arms had emerged inside his sleeves.
Everyone pretended not to see.
Closer.
Even closer!
They gradually passed from low, shadowy sacrificial buildings to taller ones. Yin-Shang's sacrificial architecture was not ugly.
Quite the opposite.
This might have been where their artistic achievements found expression. Numerous bronze vessels and incomprehensible, massive cast-bronze objects stood all around.
Even after untold years, the aura upon them had not dispersed.
Deities!
Or rather, remnants of deities were here and there, watching the people who entered.
Libationer Zhao swallowed. He had already deployed several magical artifacts, but he still felt no sense of security.
Lin Feng had explained it very clearly.
There was no logic or experience to rely on. The reason uncanny things were called uncanny was this:
They had no logic, or none that humans could understand. Their philosophies of survival were different.
The Mirage Pearl was behaving in an extremely strange fashion. It resembled a palette of thick paint into which something had seeped, a streak of ominous black constantly churning. Even Lin Feng, who held the Mirage Pearl, sensed that something was wrong with the treasure in his hand.
Something had invaded the Mirage Pearl and was observing them.
Lin Feng signaled for him to bring out something stronger.
If there were any divine incantations, talismanic seals, or magical artifacts they had not used yet—
They could