"Looks like we've fully entered—the entrance has vanished too."
Vincent Swallow said this, taking a sip from his wine gourd. John Chou and Isabelle Frost drifted over slowly, but as soon as they landed beneath the high tower, I felt a surge of sacred power and heard a faint sound. Looking up, I saw the Golden Ox Guardian standing at the great hall's entrance atop the tower, its hostile gaze fixed on us.
"As expected, this place was built by a practitioner from this region long ago."
Vincent Swallow muttered. In an instant, the Golden Ox Guardian charged at John Chou, who nimbly dodged. Strands of red ghostly energy immediately wrapped around the guardian. With a heavy thud, Isabelle Frost subdued the beast with ease.
"Be careful."
Old Eccentric shouted. Instantly, the Golden Ox Guardian's golden fur flared like rays of sunlight, stabbing toward Isabelle Frost. Thousands of golden threads swept across her body, then converged behind her. I stared in shock, but Isabelle Frost had vanished, and the guardian charged at John Chou instead.
With a swish, John Chou dodged the charge, and with his mountain-splitting blade, he sliced off the Golden Ox Guardian's head. The guardian's body gradually turned to stone and then shattered across the ground. Isabelle Frost reappeared amid flickering red light. I swallowed hard—such a sacred force, yet John Chou dispatched it in an instant.
"John Chou's ghostly power is far stronger than these forces. So this little bit of strength can't harm them at all."
Vincent Swallow explained. We stepped over the stones, while Isabelle Frost continued to examine the scattered fragments.
Vincent Swallow and Old Eccentric also came over. I looked around—the pool here was crystal clear, its bottom covered in water plants. Four Buddha statues stood nearby, their carvings exquisitely lifelike.
At that moment, the shattered pieces of the Golden Ox Guardian scattered across the floor began to move, transforming once more into golden light. This time, the light surged toward the four Buddha statues. However, before the rays could touch the statues, Vincent Swallow swiftly hurled four prayer beads, one at each statue.
With a sharp whizzing sound, the approaching light was instantly absorbed by the prayer beads.
"It seems some powerful spell is defending this place. The light animates the stones, manifesting them to attack any invading evil spirits," Vincent Swallow remarked.
As Vincent spoke, we began to move forward. He could only temporarily suppress the activation of the formation, but had no idea how to end it. Eventually, we reached the top of the tower, where a vast, empty hall awaited us. At the far end of the hall, we spotted a downward entrance.
The hall was completely barren, but near the entrance stood a pedestal, upon which rested what appeared to be another Golden Ox Guardian stone sculpture.
We didn’t rush inside. Instead, we decided to investigate first. After surveying the area, we found that aside from the staircase we’d used to ascend—which faced a door—all other passages were sealed. The hall itself was constructed from massive brown stone slabs, meticulously arranged. Its exterior was a cubic triangle atop a square room, grand in appearance, yet utterly empty within.
Just then, a faint light shimmered. I realized the walls were covered in murals. The old eccentric raised a finger, and a character for 'light' slowly faded from his fingertip. Then, with a gesture, he sent the glowing symbol to the center of the hall’s ceiling, illuminating the entire space so we could see everything clearly.
Murals covered every wall of the hall. I glanced around—from the left of the entrance all the way to the right—each mural depicted scenes of tribal life. On the ceiling, at each corner, were four women, each dressed differently but sharing the same smiling face.
After examining the murals for a while, we reached a staircase at the back of the hall that sloped downward behind us. The old eccentric quickly inscribed three symbols for 'light.' One of them landed on my shoulder, and suddenly the surroundings brightened, as if bathed in daylight—yet the light was gentle, not blinding.
"Let’s go."
John Chou was the first to drift downward as he spoke. We followed him down the stairs—the sloping passage seemed to lead straight to the bottom. Along both walls were carvings of masked faces, likely totems from ancient tribes. After studying them for a while, I sighed.
"If these could ever see the light of day again, they’d surely be considered treasures. But sadly... sigh."
At first glance, the paintings seemed simple, but up close, their craftsmanship revealed astonishing detail. Many of the red areas appeared darker.
"They used a mixture of human and animal blood with minerals to paint these."
John Chou muttered unexpectedly. I swallowed hard as we finally reached the bottom—a vast, circular hall as grand as the palace above. The stone tiles on the floor were slightly smaller, and four doors stood around the perimeter.
Each door bore a symbol above it. The door directly opposite us had a fiery red mark, resembling a flame. Behind the staircase, some bluish lines could be seen. To the left was a water symbol, and to the right, a tree symbol.
"Fire, wind, water, wood."
I said it outright. John Chou nodded with a smile. This place seemed to be a massive underground palace, but no one knew where the four doors led. We checked each one; every entrance opened into a long corridor lined with relief carvings on the walls.
"What was this place used for? There’s not a single clue."
The old eccentric muttered, while John Chou squatted down on the floor, seemingly having reached some kind of conclusion.
"I think the three of you should stay here. My sister and I will go."
I let out a startled sound as Yin Choujian ran his hand over the floor.
"This isn't so much a palace as it is a massive sacrificial site—more like a place for offerings. The blood on the floor has completely congealed and soaked into the stone slabs, and there's a lot of it."
I quickly lowered my head. Sure enough, the stones here were dark, some even blackened, with large patches of shadowy stains everywhere. I swallowed hard—there was no smell at all.
"Let’s give it a try."
Vincent Swallow spoke, suddenly extending his left hand and producing a small knife, slicing open his palm. I jumped in shock as his blood dripped onto the floor. To my surprise, the blood didn’t spread out—instead, it formed beads that rolled across the ground, each heading toward one of the four doors.
From behind the door bearing the flame symbol, a low, guttural cry echoed. I stared in alarm, sensing something lurking within.
Suddenly, all the blood beads shot into that door and vanished in an instant. Vincent’s wound had stopped bleeding. He pressed his hand to the cut, muttering an incantation, and the injury began to heal slowly.
"Ancient things are always tied to ancient gods. Interesting. There’s definitely something mysterious here, even though I can’t sense anything yet."
Yin Choujian spoke, drifting toward the door with the flame symbol. Just as he reached the threshold, a mass of fiery red light erupted from within, a torrent of flames spewing out.
In an instant, Isabelle Frost yanked me to my feet. I stared in shock as John Chou was reduced to ashes by the flames, utterly bewildered. Yet I felt no heat at all. After a moment, the scattered ashes began to gather, mingling with blood-red particles.
"Impressive. What is this flame, exactly? It can even break down my ghostly form."
John Chou spoke, gripping his mountain-splitting knife. As he prepared to enter the door marked by flame again, we suddenly found ourselves standing at the base of the tower—the place where we’d first arrived. For a moment, we all stared at each other in confusion.
"How is that possible?"
Vincent Swallow and Old Eccentric glanced around in confusion. The four prayer beads before the Buddha statues still glimmered, but we had no idea how we’d returned to this place.
"Time and space just shifted."
Isabelle Frost said coldly.
Another riddle lay before us. It seemed entering any of the four doors would be difficult.
Vincent Swallow and Old Eccentric noticed it too. For ghosts like John Chou and Isabelle Frost, a lack of reflection was normal. But for the three of us who were human, our shadows didn’t appear on the water’s surface at all.
For the moment, we were at a complete loss.
John Chou asked, and Vincent Swallow shook his head.
Yin Choujian spoke, and we all stepped out. I returned to the edge of the pool, staring into the water and swallowing uneasily at the strange sight.
"There’s no reflection—the water here doesn’t show any reflections."
Vincent Swallow and the old eccentric noticed it too. For ghosts like Yin Choujian and Isabelle Frost, a lack of reflection was normal. But for the three of us who were human, our shadows didn’t appear on the water’s surface at all.
John Chou spoke, pressing his hand into the water. I saw the pool begin to turn faintly red, growing darker by the moment. I swallowed hard, a gurgling sound escaping me as the pool seemed to boil, bubbling furiously.
Yin Choujian asked, and Vincent Swallow shook his head.
"When we first arrived, our reflections were in the water—I even checked the Buddha statues; they had reflections too. But now, there’s nothing."
"That means we triggered some kind of confusing mechanism when we came in, and now we’re trapped in another space. Heh, what an interesting place."
Yin Choujian spoke, pressing his hand into the water. I saw the pool begin to turn faintly red, growing darker by the moment. I swallowed hard, a gurgling sound escaping me as the pool seemed to boil, bubbling furiously.