The bones of these sacrificial offerings were piled into a large pit, forming a site for rituals.

Wen Yan had heard that in ancient times, there was no such warmth and intimacy; human sacrifices were common occurrences, with many records on tortoise shells documenting numerous incidents of human sacrifices.

The murals depicted in this scene were not simply about human sacrifices; there were many beasts, and Wen Yan speculated that they might represent roles such as slaves or prisoners of war.

As the path widened, the content of the murals also increased, becoming more and more abstract towards the end.

What he saw was one ritual after another, and in the end, he saw the original large pit filled with corpses, beyond which he could no longer understand what was depicted.

In an abstract manner, it seemed like there was a gigantic tentacle monster waving its appendages, yet Wen Yan always felt that the fragmented mural didn’t portray a tentacle monster.

Wen Yan didn’t look closely as he continued to rush forward, attempting to capture what he saw with his phone along the way.

At this moment, the old man also halted his steps.

At this time, the stone walls on both sides rapidly receded, turning the area into a massive cavern with a flat floor, showing obvious signs of artificial excavation.

The old man swung his wooden staff heavily into the ground, dancing around it in an ancient Nuo Dance, chanting in a strange tone, as if something were howling.

The barbaric aura grew stronger, and the old man, clad in his feather robe, seemed to swell in size.

His dancing movements appeared bizarre and ludicrous, but this time, Wen Yan could see clearly.

The old man’s hands and feet looked absurd and bizarre because he was doing four things simultaneously with his limbs.

With every step, a symbol would appear beneath his feet, and as his hands moved within a certain range, a symbol would linger in the air.

Accompanied by that strange howling, all the symbols seemed to resonate.

At the same time, countless bones and remnant souls from within the mountain gathered into a torrent, howling out and pouncing towards the two in the middle.

The next moment, just as Wen Yan was about to switch his Temporary Ability, he saw countless chains, densely packed like a torrent, emerging from those symbols out of thin air, piercing into the mountain with a series of sharp sounds.

Along the way, all the bones emerging from the stone walls and all the Lost Souls disintegrated into smoke under the impact of those chains.

Behind the old man, blood vaporized, slowly forming the shape of a giant beast’s open mouth, which bit down on the source of all chains.

In that instant, the entire mountain shook.

At the same time, elsewhere, those young men carrying the little ghost wandered through the mountains, carrying a bewildered child.

Their faces were pale with a hint of blue, each resembling someone with a forward-leaning neck, as if something heavy was pressing on their necks. With the little ghost turned to dust, the negative influences they suffered began to surface gradually.

Their consciousness became slightly deranged; one of them carrying the child wore a bizarre smile as they arrived at the crack in the Stone Mountain.

"We’re here, he’s right in here."

"Take this child, hold on to him."

The young men entered the crack, the very one Wen Yan had to run half a day to reach, but for these young men, it took less than a minute to enter the cavern inside.

One of the young men picked up the bewildered child and shouted inside.

"Old Man Wang, look who it is!"

Another young man, quickly bandaging his head with blood-seeping gauze, held an Earth Hunting Rifle with a fierce look.

"If you don’t stop, you’ll regret it."

...

Wang Jianjun, following a fellow villager, eventually reached the deep mountains and arrived in front of a Stone Mountain with a vertical crack.

"This is it. If not for the distinctness of this place, I’d find it difficult to remember. According to your grandfather’s wishes, he’s buried inside the mountain cave."

Standing in front of the mountain, Wang Jianjun felt somewhat dizzy. He took a sip of water, his eyes carrying a trace of bewilderment.

It seemed like... he’d been here before.

"Is there an ancient tomb inside?"

"Seems like it, not quite sure."

Wang Jianjun looked up at the crack on the mountain, feeling an inexplicable ominous sensation emanating from it.

While Wang Jianjun was in a daze, the villager searched nearby, hacking a path with a machete.

"Let’s go, I’ve checked; there are no wild beasts here."

Wang Jianjun retrieved a flashlight from his bag, switched it on, and entered the crack in the mountain.

After entering, the feeling of familiarity grew stronger.

As he walked, his flashlight flickered, and the stone walls began to emit faint lights, like weak rays piercing into the crack.

Lifting his head, Wang Jianjun saw the crack soon coming to an end; inside would likely be that large cavern.

He hurried forward a few steps, the faint lights on the stone walls growing stronger. He saw something in the large cavern being illuminated.

But his steps grew heavier, as if the air had turned viscous, obstructing his progress.

He felt it, just a little more, just a little more, and he’d see it.

He desperately pushed forward, his eyes wide open, gazing inside.

He saw, inside the large cavern, murals on the stone walls, with symbols. He saw someone clad in a feather robe, dancing a strange Nuo Dance around a wooden staff in the center.

His gaze also landed on the other side, where a young child, bewildered and seemingly scared, stood.

Beside the child, several young men stood, and one young man, face pale, held an Earth Hunting Rifle, speaking something unknown.

Wang Jianjun’s consciousness exploded.

He remembered; it was here.

When he was young, he saw his grandfather wearing a mask, it was here.

His eyes reddened, his mind buzzing, and he gritted his teeth, recklessly charging forward.

"Don’t shout, don’t shout."