Of Mountains and Rivers 68

The sudden carving on the stone appeared like a ghostly disturbance. This had successfully brought the previously unruly men under control, who had just been wreaking havoc.

This person wrote with precision, each stroke penetrating the stone, producing a grating “screech” sound at the intricate and rugged surface. The words “be careful” were written three times in succession, the handwriting becoming progressively larger, faster, and more scribbled. In the end, the last few strokes almost seemed to run together in a frenzy.

There was a touch of bleakness.

Nanshan silently gestured, walking to the base of the stone. He slowly extended his hand, daringly feeling the air at the final stroke. It was unclear what he touched, but the inscription abruptly stopped. On the carved marks on the giant rock, there were some fragments of the stone embedded within.

Nanshan asked, “Who is it?”

No answer came, and a desolate silence prevailed.

Even those unafraid of supernatural events couldn’t help but shudder in the face of the incontrovertible evidence of the supernatural. Chu Huan felt as if there were either friendly or unfriendly eyes staring at them from the depths of the darkness.

In the blink of an eye, two questions that had persistently lingered in his thoughts raced through Chu Huan’s mind:

Back then… who leaked the news of the Fallen Land to the outside world?

Was “it” truly a unified entity?

Chu Huan asked in a hushed tone, “Be careful of what? Who are you?”

This time, there was no response. The other party seemed to have decided not to make any sudden moves any longer.

The inscriptions on the stone surface were in the authentic script of the Liyi Clan, written quite professionally, which far surpassed Chu Huan’s self-taught standards.

It was evident whom this was written for, and the repeated warning of “be careful” revealed anxiety and fear. It was certainly not a provocation or intimidation from an enemy.

This presence lurking in the shadows, whether human or something else—it seemed to be attempting to aid them.

Chu Huan bent his index finger and lightly tapped on the giant stone, confirming its hardness and genuine nature.

“The villagers in the valley suffocate us, the wizards can unleash non-scalding fire… We were pursued by all sorts of supernatural beings along the way,” Chu Huan slowly squatted in front of the gigantic stone, leaning unabashedly against the “haunted” rock, murmuring, “What does this imply?”

Without waiting for others to respond, he answered his own question, "This implies that in the Fallen Land, there is a rule— their consciousness can materialize."

Nanshan furrowed his brow, “Are you saying it is wish fulfillment? Why can’t we do it then?”

“Darling, that’s because we exist outside the rules,” Chu Huan said in a low voice. “We haven’t been consumed, so our consciousness is isolated from ‘it’, but…”

However, whether it was the puppets that unconsciously joined in attacking them or the wizards consciously communicating with them, they shared a common characteristic—their bodies were nearby.

Chu Huan scanned the surroundings, even climbed onto a large rock, raising the torch on the staff higher, yet found no one nearby—no humanoid figure at all.

“I’m proposing a possibility, not necessarily correct,” after a long pause, Chu Huan spoke, “I’m thinking, are the people consumed by ‘it’ divided into different levels?”

The people they initially encountered were confused and mostly just screamed.

Later encounters involved individuals who were progressively more formidable, from those suffocating them to those actively pursuing and attacking them…

If Luger guided them correctly, the pattern emerging suggested that the closer they were to Sunken Star Island, the higher the level of the consumed individuals were.

“If there really is such a hierarchy, I believe the person carving on the stone must be of a high level. As for how high…” Chu Huan paused.

Yuan Ping, who had been somewhat absent-mindedly allowing Chu Huan to take the singing stage solo, seemed to come back to his senses.

Yuan Ping calmly continued, “The closer we are to the Sunken Star Island, the longer the time of consumption is. Assuming the person carving on the stone is with us, how did they maintain consciousness for such a long time without dying?”

Perhaps feeling troubled, Yuan Ping’s tone turned colder as he spoke, “It doesn’t make sense. Stop speculating.”

Chu Huan retorted, “Well, it’s not necessarily…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yuan Ping impatiently snorted and interrupted him.

Chu Huan gave him a disdainful look, “Have you mistakenly consumed gunpowder? What if the person carving on the stone hasn’t been consumed? What if that person is actually a part of ‘it’?”

Yuan Ping was momentarily stunned.

They had previously discussed whether "it" was a singular entity or composed of several parts. If "it" wasn't a single consciousness and had the potential for internal conflicts, there could be room for manipulation and maneuvering.

Luger stood silently on the side, seemingly not keeping up with their racing thoughts. His mind still lingered on the previous question. It wasn’t until Nanshan beckoned for him to join them that Luger, seeming a bit slow to react, raised his head and asked, “So, only the consumed can use the rules here?”

Yuan Ping avoided his gaze uneasily and gave a flat answer, “Yes, but first, you have to ensure that your consciousness is still yours, not turned into a puppet of ‘it’.”

Luger, upon hearing this, nodded without any expression, maintaining a calm demeanor that seemed to say, “I understand”. He casually adjusted his bow and arrows, then nonchalantly stepped forward.

However, Yuan Ping could no longer contain himself. After sneakily glancing at their Patriarch several times in succession, he quickly caught up a few steps and walked beside Luger. With a slightly subdued tone, he cleared his throat and said, “Patriarch…”

Luger raised an eyebrow and glanced at him.

“I…”, Yuan Ping hesitated, “I… um…”

Luger didn’t know what was difficult for him to say and asked in surprise, “What’s wrong with you?”

“…” Yuan Ping bit his lip, blushing deeply, and after a while, he stammered out, “I really am straight.”

Luger paused.

After uttering those words, Yuan Ping felt like a storm was raging in his heart.

The Gatekeepers had a natural, fledgling sense of belonging to their Patriarch. Even though Yuan Ping’s memories from the past were still intact, emotionally, it wasn’t easy to discard instinct.

If someone else dared to reject their Patriarch, Yuan Ping would surely grab a weapon and subdue them. But when it came to himself…

Yuan Ping had always believed that he was different from people like Chu Huan, who treated principles as if they were dispensable. His stance was firm, and his expectations for relationships and partners were traditional and conservative. He had never planned to change his orientation midway.

Moreover, even if Patriarch Luger turned out to be a woman, Yuan Ping would never dare to have any inappropriate thoughts about his Patriarch.

Nanshan was disturbed by their strange atmosphere and was about to inquire when Chu Huan chuckled, grabbed his neck tightly and prevented him from turning around.

Only the venomous snake Little Green, who was hanging on Chu Huan’s shoulder, curiously poked its head out, staring at Yuan Ping.

Without waiting for Luger to respond after a long time, Yuan Ping, feeling extremely uneasy, finally mustered the courage to glance at Luger. What he saw in their Patriarch’s extremely subtle facial expressions effectively conveyed a genuine and inexplicable sense of sincerity.

Luger asked, “What does ‘straight’ mean?”

After saying that, he assessed Yuan Ping’s posture from top to bottom and nodded inexplicably, “Not bad, pretty straight. What’s wrong?”

Yuan Ping was left speechless, feeling like his intervertebral discs were slightly protruding.

Luger’s patience was always limited. Seeing his flushed expression and his inability to utter a single word for a long time, Luger couldn’t help but frown, “What do you want to say?”

Yuan Ping replied, “… Nothing, Patriarch, let’s go.”

Who their Patriarch remained an enigma—a figure deemed sacred and inviolable. In a way, aside from the fact that his temperament wasn’t particularly benevolent, their Patriarch was like a qualified mountain deity with no dead angles in a complete 360-degree spectrum. How could one measure them with the thoughts of mere mortals?

Yuan Ping thought that Luger must have given him a casual response just now because he seemed on the verge of suffocation. His own thoughts had likely suddenly turned impure, and the influence of Chu Huan was probably to blame for his overactive imagination.

Yuan Ping silently made up his mind that he would definitely draw a clear boundary with the person surnamed Chu after returning, so as not to be tainted by that guy's corrupting influence.

The subsequent stretch of road was relatively peaceful, possibly due to its infrequent use by people. However, the three "be careful" that pierced the heart like a dagger still made everyone involuntarily uneasy.

"Will we be able to see the water after crossing this mountain?" Nanshan asked Luger while sensing the air becoming increasingly humid. He simultaneously measured the length of his staff. At this point, the ancestral Patriarch's staff, passed down through generations, was now only half of its original length.

Nanshan sighed, feeling a sense of approaching desperation.

Luger pondered and said with uncertainty, "I only know the general direction. Whether we need to cross this mountain or the next one, I'm not sure. We should be close."

"And what about after we arrive?" Chu Huan asked. "How do we proceed?"

Luger once again displayed his arrogant ignorance, saying, "I don't know. There's always a way."

Nanshan knew this old friend of his, who had always held the view that "the heavens are supreme, and Luger is second." He never counted on mortal matters. So, he raised his staff a bit higher, observing for a moment, and said, "There should be fishermen by the seaside. Let's go and see if there are any boats. The fishermen have relied on the sea for generations. They've traded so many things from the island; it can't just be luck every time. There must be some way to get over it. I don't think Sunken Star Island is as mystical as the rumors suggest."

As they spoke, the group climbed to the mountaintop. At the highest point, without needing to activate the binoculars feature, Chu Huan could already see the sea.

It was the calmest sea he had ever seen in his life. At this distance, he couldn't even hear the sound of the waves or catch the distinctive salty scent of the sea. From afar, the waves looked like black jade, crashing onto the desolate beach, stirring up tiny, lifeless white foam.

There was a fishing village by the sea, resembling a relic. Small houses stood there like haunted houses, and aside from that, there was nothing else.

No signs of people.

Chu Huan stared at the small fishing village, and his heart suddenly raced. He instinctively felt his hair stand on end, and an extreme sense of unease arose within him.

The four of them carefully descended the mountain. Just as they crossed halfway down the mountainside, Chu Huan could hear murmurs. He slightly tilted his head and whispered to Nanshan, who was leading the way, "There are people below, quite a few. Be cautious."

As they got closer to the foot of the mountain, the hushed whispers quickly turned into a noisy clamor for Chu Huan.

Chu Huan heard people talking loudly, roaring, screaming, and even laughing. All these voices collectively exuded a chilling ghostly atmosphere, mingling together like an enhanced soundtrack from a mental hospital. The amalgamation of these sounds, combined with real noises, came from all directions, making him extremely uncomfortable.

Chu Huan’s hearing was highly sensitive, and disruptions to his hearing often affected his judgment of the surrounding environment. Whenever his auditory perception was disturbed, it significantly hindered his performance.

Nanshan's steps abruptly halted, and he slightly raised his staff, whispering, "Shh, look."

At this point, they could already see the full view of the fishing village. As Nanshan swept the torch, they observed people hidden everywhere—men, women, young, and old. Despite their varied forms, all of them were eerily staring at one place—the spot where the group was standing.

Chu Huan felt a sudden chill running down his spine. Without thinking, he pulled Nanshan aside, urging, "Retreat, take a detour, quickly!"

But it was too late.

Before Chu Huan finished speaking, flames suddenly erupted at the end of the fishing village. The fire, like a circulating torch, swiftly spread throughout the entire village, plunging it into a crimson sea of fire. Before them, thick fog billowed, and the flames shot up into the sky.

The previously chaotic and disordered murmurs gradually became low and merged into a single voice, becoming clearer and eventually thunderous and deafening.

In unison, they shouted, “Thieves! Invaders! Thieves!”

This time, without Chu Huan initiating any communication, the consumed individuals could already sense them!

"We're in trouble. I feel like we've stepped on the enemy's sensitive point," Yuan Ping whispered. "My suggestion is to avoid their edge, disengage, and retreat—by the way, is that fire real? Does it burn?"

Chu Huan rolled his eyes at this question. Yuan Ping seemed to have developed "hallucination hypersensitivity"—believing that everything threatening his life was an illusion.

However, as unworthy of encouragement as this revolutionary optimism might be, his advice was evidently correct.

Nanshan turned around at this moment and silently gestured to them—head back up the mountain, go back.

Just then, a piercing scream, as sharp as a knife, ruthlessly pierced Chu Huan's ears. His head buzzed, nearly deafened, and he bumped into Yuan Ping.

It turned out that Luger, at the front, had extended his arms, blocking their way. As Chu Huan rubbed his ears and looked along his gaze in astonishment…

He saw the entire mountain ablaze.

The thick smoke stung, bringing tears to everyone's eyes, and in the glow of the flames, chaos unfolded.

Suddenly, Nanshan's blade swiftly separated from his staff with a “clang” and slashed toward Chu Huan behind him. Startled, Chu Huan turned around to see a shadow that was attempting a sneak attack disintegrate.

His hearing was disrupted, his eyes were barely open due to the smoke, and taking a breath felt like inhaling searing pain, causing him to cough uncontrollably.

Amid rolling smoke, Chu Huan roared at Yuan Ping, "Is there such a realistic fake fire? What the hell…"

While cursing, Chu Huan tore his shirt into strips, dampening them with water from his canteen. He handed a piece to each person, saying, "We can't go back; head towards the sea. I don't believe this fire can reach the water."

"Give me the water bottle," Nanshan, with a keen mind, quickly took the canteen and soaked every piece of rope to prevent them from burning.

"Stay close to me," Nanshan said. He then tossed the empty water bottle behind him. Accompanied by the sharp wind, he plowed through the airflow, ruthlessly creating a path through the wall of fire and dense smoke.

Nanshan intended to cut a path through the densely packed fishing village.

Shadows continuously attempted ambushes under the cover of the towering inferno, one wave after another, leaving no room to catch one's breath. Chu Huan, preoccupied with the situation, also had to protect Nanshan as they forged ahead. Without being vigilant, a shadow wrapped around his arm.

That thing was sticky and heavy. Without hesitation, Chu Huan stabbed the arrowhead, which was on fire, directly into his own arm, picking the black mass off like a locust. Before the blood could flow out, the skin and flesh had already been charred into a black mass, effectively stopping the bleeding.

The distance from the mountain base to the seaside was less than two kilometers, a short distance that could be crossed in less than ten minutes. However, it tormented each person, leaving them more bedraggled than the last.

Already close to the sea, Chu Huan belatedly caught a whiff of the salty smell. They had intended to gather some clues from the locals and make thorough preparations before getting closer to the death realm near Sunken Star Island. Unfortunately, their plans were overtaken by sudden events, and they found themselves caught off guard.

Chu Huan exclaimed, "Find a boat. We can't go directly into the water; there might be something lurking beneath, waiting to ambush us unseen."

As he spoke, a "whoosh" came from behind. Chu Huan heard Yuan Ping shout, "Holy crap, get down!"

Several gigantic, tentacle-like shadows, carrying a massive wooden pillar engulfed in towering flames, swept towards them.

Chu Huan didn't know how to evaluate the situation. It was truly… an unimaginable grudge.

It was too late to take cover. Chu Huan drew two arrows from Nanshan's quiver, lit them with the staff, and without even aiming properly, the arrows had already shot out accurately, breaking two of the black shadows. The flaming wooden pillar lost balance, tilted to one side, made a loud crash, and grazed past them before hitting the ground.

Chu Huan broke into a cold sweat, almost dripping down from the tip of his nose. This time, hitting the target was entirely three parts skill and seven parts luck.

When the flaming wooden pillar hit the ground, sparks flew in all directions, causing discomfort as each spark felt like a scaled. A single spark could result in a burn. The tail of the fire brushed against the rope between Yuan Ping and Luger. Perhaps due to the smoke and flames along the way, the water that Nanshan had poured earlier had evaporated, leaving the rope dry. With a slight motion, the rope easily snapped.

Yuan Ping was taken aback, instinctively reaching out to grab it, but Luger grabbed his wrist to stop him.

Luger said in a deep voice, “Let’s go, it’s alright. I’m right behind you.”

Navigating through, Nanshan had no time to spare. He had to forcefully push through the sea of flames in front of him, ensuring the safety of the staff in his hands at all times. Sustaining the fierce wind for an extended period, Nanshan’s stamina was nearing its limits. Even his vision blurred—until this moment, they finally reached the seaside.

A row of fishing boats quietly rested by the shore. Nanshan conservatively chose one that was neither too new nor too old. Although the fishing boat wasn't lightweight, it posed no significant challenge for them.

Swiftly, they pushed the fishing boat into the sea. None of them were adept at steering, and shortly after entering the water, the small fishing boat began to spin uncontrollably. It swirled in all directions like a pendulum.

Nevertheless, they had survived the ordeal.

"Let it drift for now. Take a break," commanded Chu Huan. He took the staff from Nanshan, handed it to Yuan Ping behind him, and forcibly made Nanshan sit down. "We have a sail but no wind, and oars with no one skilled enough to row. Soon, it'll all depend on you."

Sitting at the boat's prow, Nanshan rested. He wordlessly held Chu Huan's arm, staring at the charred wound for a long time. His brows furrowed, then he lowered his head and gently licked around the injured area.

It was painful and itchy, and Chu Huan recoiled, muscles tensing. "Dirty or not, don't mess with it."

Nanshan stubbornly held onto his arm, overwhelmed with sorrow. Throughout the generations, the leaders of the Mountain Keepers, including his mother, who had met an unfortunate end, had never let their beloved ones endure such suffering.

Guilt was truly one of the most tormenting negative emotions.

At this moment, Luger suddenly hushed everyone. Luger, unbeknownst to others, had already stood at the boat's stern, his expression cold.

Following his gaze, countless dark shadows rolled up from the shore, sticking to each other, forming a massive black curtain that seemed to blot out the sky.

Like an oil spill, the curtain smoothly passed, quickly covering the sea's surface with a layer of inky blackness.

The entire continental shelf seemed as if it had been polluted by leaked oil, submerged in darkness. The fires on the shore ruthlessly advanced along with the dark curtain, engulfing everything.

Fire became the sea, and the sea became fire.

Chu Huan’s statement, “The sea can’t catch fire”, was smeared across his face. In an instant, the rocking boat was surrounded.

Was it waiting on the boat to be burnt alive or jumping into the water to be devoured by the gaping shadows?

It was indeed a challenging question.