Fantasy Game: Infinite City

Chapter 632 Returning to the Old Place (8)

Han Zu stood before the breach formed by the collapsed wall, the flames gathering at his fingertips illuminating the steps below in an even more eerie light. The dust kicked up by the collapse hadn't completely settled, condensing into tiny beams of light in the firelight, trembling gently with his breath. The steps were paved with bluestone slabs, each step edged with a layer of slippery moss, clearly indicating a long period of dampness. The gaps between the slabs were filled with tiny shell fragments and coral debris, suggesting this area had been submerged in seawater for an extended period. He didn't immediately step forward, but instead approached the wall beside the steps, examining it closely—the wall was constructed of irregularly piled stones, their surfaces covered with a layer of dark green algae. Some stones, eroded by seawater over time, had honeycomb-like holes on their surfaces, from which tiny drops of seawater occasionally seeped, dripping onto the steps with a soft "tap-tap."

Taking a deep breath of the air, thick with the stench of the sea and the smell of decay, Han Zu stepped onto the first step. The moss beneath his feet was unusually slippery, so he deliberately adjusted his center of gravity, ensuring his soles were firmly planted on the surface to avoid slipping and making any unnecessary noise. The stairs were steeper than he had anticipated, and with each step he descended, the stench of the sea intensified—a growing, increasingly strong, salty tang characteristic of the ocean. By the tenth step, the scent of the sea had taken over his sense of smell; he could clearly hear a "whoosh" below, similar to waves crashing against rocks, though the sound was muffled and muffled by the thick walls.

The staircase was far longer than expected; the firelight could only reach a dozen or so steps ahead, beyond which lay impenetrable darkness. The algae on the walls grew increasingly dense, and even a few tiny seaweeds sprouted from the cracks in the rocks, swaying gently in the faint air currents. Han Zu kept the flame burning on his fingertips, not for illumination, but more importantly, to detect the surrounding energy fluctuations—the flame's constant flickering indicated that there was no abnormal energy field around the staircase, at least for the time being, no risk of triggering a trap.

After descending for an unknown amount of time, the slope of the stairs suddenly became gentler, and the clear sound of flowing water could be heard from the darkness ahead. Han Zu quickened his pace, and after turning a corner, the scene before him made his pupils contract slightly: at the end of the stairs was a spacious corridor, the floor of which was completely submerged by seawater, the water level just above his knees. The murky seawater was filled with a large amount of fine wood chips and seaweed, and the underwater flagstones were covered with a thick layer of silt, clearly indicating that no one had ventured there for a long time. The ceiling of the corridor was an arched structure, pieced together from rough stones. Many stones were loose, and in some areas, the arch even had huge cracks. From the cracks, stalactites hung from their tips, each drop of water dripping down every few seconds, splashing onto the sea surface and creating tiny ripples.

Han Zu stepped into the corridor. The seawater was colder than he had expected, and a biting chill crept up his trousers. However, his body had long since adapted to extreme environments, and this level of cold did not have a real effect on him. He deliberately slowed his pace, letting his toes gently probe into the underwater silt to avoid triggering any hidden traps. The walls on both sides of the corridor were covered with irregular cracks, filled with the remains of coral and shells. Some walls still bore faint traces of murals, but the murals had long been eroded beyond recognition by the seawater, and only some dark red patches could be vaguely discerned, whether they were paint residue or some other substance.

After walking about fifty meters forward, Han Zu noticed that the width and height of the corridor remained constant. The walls on both sides, the vaulted ceiling, and the bluestone slabs underwater all appeared perfectly regular, as if they had been precisely measured. Even more strangely, no matter how fast he quickened his pace, the darkness ahead seemed endless, as if the corridor was constantly extending forward. He stopped and increased the energy gathered in his eyes, trying to see the distant scenery clearly—but even so, Han Zu could only see about thirty meters in the darkness of the corridor. At the end, it was still the outline of the corridor, indistinguishable from the surrounding environment, and even the distribution of cracks in the walls was strikingly similar to the area behind him.

"A cyclic structure? Or a spatial distortion?"

Han Zu pondered to himself. He turned to look at the entrance to the stairs behind him. The light at the entrance was very dim due to the refraction of the seawater, but it was still clearly visible. To verify his conjecture, he pried a fragment of a seashell off the wall and threw it towards the stairs behind him. The seashell, enveloped in energy, drew an arc in the air and landed accurately on the stone slab at the entrance of the stairs, making a crisp "ding" sound. The sound echoed in the corridor for a long time before gradually dissipating, and nothing unusual happened.

Having ruled out the possibility of spatial distortion behind him, Han Zu turned back towards the darkness ahead. Instead of proceeding rashly, he crouched down and gently dipped his hand into the water. The silt underwater was far thicker than expected; his fingertips sank a full ten centimeters before touching a hard stone slab. He gently felt around in the silt, suddenly feeling a strange sensation on his fingertips—an irregular, hard object with a rough surface and obvious bone texture. A thought struck him, and he reached down and pulled the object from the silt. After shaking off the surface mud, he discovered it was a palm-sized bone fragment, dark brown in color, its surface riddled with honeycomb-like holes, clearly severely corroded by seawater.

Han Zu brought the skeleton close to his eyes for close examination. Its shape was unlike that of common marine life, and its skeletal structure was also completely different from that of terrestrial creatures—the hollow part of the skeleton was unusually large, the surface was covered with fine grooves, and there were remnants of scale-like patterns along the edges. He gently squeezed the skeleton; its texture was unusually brittle, and small cracks appeared with the slightest pressure. Combining this with the non-human remains he had previously discovered in the underground space, he immediately deduced that this skeleton also came from those mysterious humanoid beings.

Releasing the skeletal remains back into the water, Han Zu continued forward. As he ventured deeper into the corridor, the number of skeletal remains in the water increased, gradually transforming from a few scattered pieces into a dense, dispersed mass. These remains varied in shape: some were slender limb bones with sharp bone spurs; others were flattened skulls with unusually wide, eerily oval eye sockets; still others resembled ribs, with extreme curvature and lengths more than twice that of human ribs. Most of these remains were severely decayed; some bones, soaked in seawater, had become abnormally soft, crumbling into tiny bone fragments at the slightest touch and dissolving into the murky water.

After traveling about two hundred meters, the seawater ahead suddenly became even more turbid. A large amount of skeletal remains had piled up, forming a low wall of bones that almost blocked half the width of the corridor. Han Zu slowed his pace and carefully walked around the bone wall. He noticed that the density of bones behind it increased significantly. Various shapes of bones were embedded in the underwater silt, some with their tips even protruding above the water, gleaming a pale white in the firelight. He observed that the arrangement of these bones was not random, but rather exhibited a peculiar regularity—all the bone tips pointed towards the depths of the corridor, as if some force had deliberately arranged them this way.

After walking about a hundred meters forward, Han Zu was forced to stop at the sight before him: in the very center of the corridor, countless skeletal remains were piled together, forming a wall of bones that completely blocked his path. These bones were intertwined and stacked, some still retaining intact joints, clearly showing the general outline of humanoid creatures; others were broken into small pieces, mixed with the other bones. The surface of the bone wall was covered with a thin layer of algae, and tiny seaweed sprouted from the gaps between some of the bones, swaying gently in the current.

Han Zu stood before the bone wall, the flames casting an even more eerie glow upon it. He could clearly see that its interior contained fragments of broken artifacts—rusty metal pieces and decaying wooden components. These objects were made of materials entirely different from those found in the Gothic architecture; they resembled parts of some kind of ship. He tried to push the bone wall with his hands, but it remained unmoved. Numerous bones interlocked, forming an exceptionally sturdy structure.

For safety's sake, Han Zu did not choose to use brute force to smash through the bone wall. The skeletal remains had already fused with the corridor through cracks in the surrounding walls. If he rashly destroyed it, he might also destroy the corridor connected to the bone wall. Although this was not a problem for Han Zu, considering the eerie nature of this place, Han Zu still intended to avoid damaging the original architectural structure as much as possible. Nevertheless, Han Zu still needed to pass through the bone wall and continue exploring. He could not stop here or return the way he came, after all, he had not yet obtained any clues.

Without hesitation, Han Zu slowly raised his left hand, palm facing the bone wall. Energy within his body rapidly gathered in his palm, and black flames erupted from it, interspersed with fine red lightning, emitting a sizzling sound. The moment the black flames touched the bone wall, there was no violent burning sound; instead, they directly penetrated the surface of the bones, instantly evaporating the moisture and organic matter inside. The once-hard bones, scorched by the flames, quickly turned into grayish-white powder, which drifted away with the water. The red lightning weaved through the bone wall, tearing cracks in the thick structure and accelerating its disintegration.

In just a few seconds, the bone wall blocking the corridor was completely evaporated, turning into a cloud of bone dust that formed a murky "smoke column" in the seawater. After the flames died down, a passage several hundred meters long was cleared in front of Han Zu. The seawater on both sides of the passage was still murky, and large amounts of bone dust were slowly sinking into the water. He did not move forward immediately, but stood still and observed for a moment—the flames had not triggered any energy fluctuations, and there were no abnormalities in the surrounding walls and vaults, indicating that this method of clearing was safe.

Confirming the corridor's structure was intact, Han Zu stepped into the cleared passage ahead. The seawater was far more turbid than before, with visibility less than half a meter. After walking about three hundred meters, the outline of skeletons reappeared in the darkness ahead. He quickened his pace, and upon closer inspection, he discovered that the corridor was blocked by an even denser mass of skeletal remains. The number of bones far exceeded the previous bone wall, and the pile was much higher, almost touching the corridor's vaulted ceiling. What concerned him even more was that the sea level had risen considerably, now reaching his thighs. This seemed to indicate that the corridor had a slight downward slope, and based on the distance he had traveled and the height of the submerged area, he estimated that he had reached the edge of the city, or perhaps even left the city altogether, reaching the sea.

Han Zu crouched down and reached his hand into the seawater beneath the pile of bones. This time, the bone he touched was completely different from before—it was a small, regularly shaped bone. Although its surface was also corroded by seawater, the outline of a human finger bone was still clearly discernible. He pulled the bone out of the water, and the light of the flames illuminated its details: the end of the bone had obvious joint marks, and its size was similar to that of a human little finger bone, only the surface corrosion was more severe than the surrounding non-human bones, and there were obvious defects at the edges.

To confirm his hypothesis, Han Zu lit a piece of bone at the edge of the pile with fire. As the flames burned, the bone emitted a burnt smell similar to burning hair, a characteristic odor of burning human bones (which Han Zu was very familiar with). He carefully examined the pile and found that human and non-human bones were mixed together. Some human bones were pressed down by non-human limbs, while others were intertwined with non-human skulls, as if they had been piled up there at the same time. Even more strangely, some of the human bones had obvious scratches and bite marks on their surfaces, the shapes of which perfectly matched the tips of the non-human bones, suggesting that these humans had been killed by those humanoid creatures and piled up here along with their remains.

Han Zu stood up and looked into the darkness behind the pile of bones. The seawater had become unusually cold, and the current was much faster than before. The murky water carried more bone dust and seaweed, splashing against his legs with a "whoosh" sound. He gathered his energy again, preparing to use flames to clear the pile of bones in front of him, but at that moment, he suddenly felt an unusual vibration coming from the mud beneath his feet—not a violent shaking, but a subtle, rhythmic tremor, as if something was moving deep within the corridor.

He immediately stopped gathering energy and cautiously observed his surroundings. The vibrations were increasing in frequency, the underwater silt began to bulge slightly, and numerous bubbles rose from it, hissing as they burst. The number of falling stones from the cracks in the corridor ceiling had increased significantly, and several large, loose stalactites crashed into the seawater, creating huge splashes. The water level was still slowly rising, almost reaching his waist, and the direction of the current had changed; it was no longer still but was flowing slowly deeper into the corridor.

Han Zu realized something was wrong; the corridor seemed to be moving on its own. Without hesitation, he turned and returned to the entrance to the stairs he remembered. However, when he arrived, the sight before him made his pupils shrink—the once clearly visible entrance to the stairs had vanished, replaced by a corridor completely identical to the surrounding walls. The stone walls on both sides were covered with cracks and algae, and even the seaweed sprouting from the cracks was no different from the rest of the area, as if the stairs had never existed.

He reached out and touched the stone walls on either side. The texture of the stone walls felt exactly the same as the walls in the rest of the corridor, without any trace of splicing. He ignited the algae on the surface of the stone walls with a flame. The algae crackled normally as it burned, and the temperature of the stone walls was consistent with the surrounding environment, without any abnormal energy fluctuations.

The tremors in the corridor had stopped, but the sea level continued to rise slowly, and the current grew faster. Small whirlpools began to appear in the murky water, drawing in the scattered bone dust and seaweed. Since the entrance had disappeared, returning the way they came was no longer an option. Han Zu returned to his previous location. As he moved, he noticed the cracks in the corridor ceiling widening, with more stones and stalactites falling and crashing into the sea with dull thuds. He could clearly hear a whooshing sound, like the breathing of a giant beast, coming from deep within the corridor. The sound grew closer, carrying a strong, pungent stench reminiscent of rotting flesh.

He crouched down and examined the underwater silt again. This time, he found more human bones in the silt, including a complete skull with a huge hole at the top. The edges of the hole were unusually clean, clearly pierced by some kind of sharp weapon. Scattered around the skull were many rusty metal fragments, shaped like the blades of medieval soldiers' swords, but corroded beyond recognition by seawater and shattering at the slightest touch.

Han Zu stood up and walked forward for another hundred meters. By this time, the sea level had risen and reached his chest. The current was getting faster and faster, carrying large amounts of bone dust and stones towards his body. The vaulted ceiling of the corridor began to collapse in large sections, and huge stones crashed into the sea. The pile of bones behind him also began to loosen, and a large number of bones were carried towards him by the current. Some of the sharp bone tips grazed his body and broke some of his hair, but no other marks were left on Han Zu's sturdy body.

Han Zu regrouped his energy, and black flames, crackling with red lightning, erupted once more, igniting the pile of bones in front of him. This time, the flames expanded several times over, instantly burning a path through the bone pile. He strode forward, walking quickly into the darkness of the corridor's depths. The sounds of collapse and rushing water behind him grew louder, as the entire corridor gradually crumbled.