The bandits on the earthen field were all disarmed and tied up in a corner. The gaunt Soul Master escaped into a crevice in the rock wall, and Cheng Luo's Wind-Binding Vine was about to chase after him, but Feng Xiaotian raised his hand to stop him.
"No rush. He can't escape." Feng Xiaotian glanced down at the tall, thin man's corpse on the wooden platform, then swept his gaze over the bandits lying haphazardly on the earthen ground. "Let's stabilize the situation outside first."
He ordered Zhong Yue and Shi Yan to lead a count of the bandits, while he and Jiang Lin crouched down to carefully examine the tall, thin man's body. The poison had taken effect too quickly; from the moment it was bitten to death, it took no more than five breaths.
His lips were black, his pupils were rapidly dilating, and the black liquid overflowing from the corner of his mouth had a pungent, bitter almond smell. This was no ordinary suicide poison; it was something specifically prepared for a captured person. A bandit leader couldn't possibly have such a thing.
Huo Xiao surveyed the earthen area, confirming that all the bandits had been brought under control, before walking to the crevice in the rock wall.
The crack was small, just enough for one person to pass through sideways. The chisel marks on the edges were somewhat blurred by wind and rain erosion, but they became more and more neat as you went in—the transition from a rough rock fissure to a regular passageway clearly indicated that the natural crack was first utilized and then deepened artificially.
He reached out and probed the air at the crack's opening, feeling a faint, cool breeze on his fingertips. "There's ventilation; the passage isn't deep." He withdrew his hand and stepped sideways into the crack.
On the earthen field, Su Ran was examining the wounds of each captured bandit. Bai Yu stood beside him, holding Wind Chime in her hand, the clapper pressed down so it didn't touch the bell.
She was in charge of guarding the area to prevent any bandits who were feigning death or had escaped from suddenly launching an attack. Lu Qing and Cheng Luo patrolled the perimeter of the earthen site to confirm that all hidden sentries had been eliminated.
A moment later, Huo Xiao withdrew from the crack, his expression slightly grim. "Inside is a man-made passageway, at the end of which is a bronze door, ajar. There are no guards at the door."
Feng Xiaotian stood up. The bandits outside had all been brought under control, and the sentries had been eliminated. He turned around, his gaze sweeping over his teammates behind him, and quickly reassigned them to groups.
People need to be left outside to guard against bandits and provide backup. The narrow space inside the tunnel makes it difficult for a large force to maneuver, making it more suitable for an elite force to break in.
He selected Feng Lingtian, Su Mei'er, Lu Hanxiao, Jiang Lin, and Ji Ning to enter the tunnel with him, while Zhong Yue and Shi Yan led the remaining men to guard the crevice entrance, ready to provide support at any time.
Feng Lingtian took out a Communication Stone from his waist and handed it to Huo Xiao. "Senior, you'll be waiting outside. We'll keep you updated on the situation inside every so often. If we encounter any danger we can't handle, we'll immediately send a signal for help."
Huo Xiao took the Communication Stone, weighed it in his palm, and nodded. "Go. Leave the outside to me."
Every so often, a Soul Guidance Lamp is embedded in the inner wall of the passageway, its dim yellow light barely enough to illuminate the path beneath one's feet.
The ground beneath our feet had been leveled by hand, and every few steps along the walls on either side were grooves carved out, with solidified wax residue remaining in them.
Feng Xiaotian reached out and touched the nearest groove; his fingertips were covered with a thin layer of dust—not accumulated in a short time.
He looked up at the top of the wall again, where there were ventilation holes about the size of a fist at intervals, the edges of which were blackened by smoke.
The lighting tools have changed from the campfire outside to candles and Soul Guidance Lamp, but the ventilation holes are opened so tightly—this shows that the people who live here regularly care about the air, not the lighting.
Lu Hanxiao walked at the front, holding a portable Soul Guidance Lamp in his left hand and maintaining the Snowy Owl Martial Soul in a half-released state with his right hand.
The cold white light of the Soul Guidance Lamp was much brighter than the dim, old lamps on the tunnel walls, illuminating the uneven ground more than ten steps ahead clearly.
He noticed a series of messy footprints on the ground, extending deep into the passageway—left by the gaunt Soul Master. The footprints were spaced far apart, indicating he had run very fast.
After walking for about fifteen minutes, the passageway suddenly narrowed. The grooves and wax on the walls on both sides were gone, replaced by patches of dark stains, like traces left by liquid that had been splashed on and solidified.
The air grew colder and colder, not the natural coolness of the depths of the mountains, but a bone-chilling cold that sent shivers down one's spine. Su Mei'er frowned slightly; the oppressive atmosphere she felt was more than ten times stronger than it had been outside.
Feng Lingtian took out Communication Stone and quickly inscribed a message to Huo Xiao: "Halfway through the tunnel, the aura is abnormal. Continue deeper." The Communication Stone glowed slightly, and the message had been sent.
At the end of the passageway, a bronze gate embedded in the mountain appeared before them. The gate was covered in rust and looked very old, but the chisel marks on the edge of the door frame were very new, indicating that it had been opened not long ago. At this moment, the gate was ajar, and a faint green light shone through the crack.
Lu Hanxiao slipped through the crack in the door. A few moments later, he emerged, his voice soft and urgent. "There's no one inside. But there are many corpses."
Feng Xiaotian slowly pushed open the bronze door.
The space behind the door suddenly opened up—a hollowed-out mountainside, with a two-tiered circular space carved out.
The upper level is a corridor that winds around the mountain wall, with thick chains hanging from the railings. The ends of the chains drag broken shackles, and the inside of the shackles bears traces of dried blood and scratches from fingernails.
The lower level was a sunken floor with several iron cages lined with blackened straw, among which were scattered bone fragments. The air was thick with the stench of blood and decay, so strong that it was almost impossible to open one's eyes.
But what's most suffocating are the corpses on the ground.
Piled up haphazardly, like a mountain. There were men wearing mercenary armor, with the Mercenary Guild emblem pinned to their armor. There were bounty hunters wearing straw hats, clutching rusty long knives in their hands.
There were shirtless bandits with tattoos on their chests, just like the bandits outside. There were even a few elderly people dressed in the simple clothes of local villagers, without even shoes on their feet.
Everyone died in the same way: dilated pupils, distorted faces, and gaping mouths, as if they had suffered immense pain before death. There were no external injuries on their bodies, but black liquid, exactly the same as that of the tall, thin man, oozed from the corners of their mouths.
Jiang Lin crouched down, the pale silver light of his Spirit Eyes sweeping across the face of the nearest corpse. After a moment, he raised his head, his voice low. " The Soul Power in the meridians was forcibly drained. It didn't dissipate on its own; it was drawn away by external force."
Just then, a very faint metallic scraping sound came from above—like chains dragging across a stone floor, or like shackles being tightened by something.
Feng Lingtian suddenly looked up and, through the flickering of the eerie green light, vaguely saw the outline of a human figure—hunched over, with hands hanging down in front of him, and extremely long fingers.
The green light emanated from his body, flickering in sync with his breathing, like a beating heart.
The breathing was neither the weak gasps of someone injured, nor the rapid breaths of someone in fear—but rather an impatient rhythm, suppressing some kind of impulse, like something that had been locked up for too long finally hearing the sound of the door opening.
"Up there." Feng Lingtian's voice was extremely low.
Feng Xiaotian swiftly raised his right hand, Gale gathering in his palm, and the five people behind him simultaneously released their Martial Soul.
The eerie green light flickered violently in the shadows before beginning to move toward the edge of the corridor.