If the Skull Lantern was truly an artifact for a ritual, the sheer scale and grandeur of this arrangement were staggering. I couldn't fathom what secret sect or cult might employ such a thing; perhaps it even signaled the entrance to some unholy, forbidden sanctuary. If that were the case, our troubles would multiply exponentially.

I dared not feign strength any longer. I lowered my voice and asked Zhuoma Yangjin if we could perhaps fall back a few paces, letting the gaijin take the lead while we observed and acted according to circumstances. I fully expected her agreement, but to my surprise, she flatly refused my suggestion, insisting we maintain our vanguard position and even quicken our pace.

Looking at Wang and Liu, their faces were alight with excitement; trying to persuade them to retreat seemed an utterly futile endeavor. I certainly couldn't turn back alone; even Old Li, with all his years of military experience, still needed the lion to guide him. My familiarity with this environment was nowhere near theirs, and a moment’s lapse could easily see me buried in these desolate mountains.

Sigh… for some inexplicable reason, I kept thinking of Old Li. I wondered how he was faring. What if the White Python, intimidated by our larger numbers, decided to double back and attack him instead? Lost in these frantic speculations, I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the ground, daring not even to glance toward the cavern walls. Thus, we proceeded forward under the silent gaze of countless skulls.

Zhuoma Yangjin remained unnervingly calm, repeatedly warning me to watch out for the skulls and chains underfoot. After a few steps, I faintly detected the sound of running water, though it was barely audible. Having been in this cave for so long, my hearing had become far sharper than usual, and I was certain it was water, yet I dared not raise my head to search for its source.

“Yangjin, I think I hear running water,” I murmured.

Zhuoma Yangjin seemed startled. She paused momentarily, her grip on me involuntarily tightening. “We haven’t reached it this quickly, have we?” she seemed to be asking herself.

“Reached what so quickly?” I asked.

“It’s hard to explain right now. After seeing so many strange things in this cave, haven’t you noticed what’s truly anomalous?” Her voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, forcing me to press close to hear clearly.

The cave was certainly strange. Apart from the desiccated corpses with their organs removed and the iron-chained Skull Lanterns, it was clearly artificially modified, yet it harbored no semblance of life. Not a single living thing, not even one as small as a fingernail clipping, could be found. Even with so many of us walking through, the deathly stillness remained absolute, so profound it felt capable of consuming us, flesh and bone alike, without a trace.

I didn’t answer Zhuoma Yangjin, focusing instead on pinpointing the direction of the water—it seemed to be ahead, yet with every few steps forward, the sound seemed to recede further away. Fearing the Skull Lanterns, I still dared not look around. Zhuoma Yangjin held my hand tightly and fell silent as well, seemingly deep in thought.

After we had walked perhaps another ten meters, a sudden warmth enveloped us. I assumed we must be deep inside the mountain’s core. It was the only explanation for this heat. Just as I was drifting off, Zhuoma Yangjin violently yanked me toward the center, exclaiming with concern: “Watch out for the water!”

Startled, I glanced sideways. On either side of the narrow cavern floor, two dark, silent water channels, each about two feet wide, had materialized—I couldn’t discern their flow, but they must be subterranean springs. The sound I had heard must have come from these. It seemed we really had penetrated deep into the mountain’s interior.

I suppressed further musings and followed carefully, gripping Zhuoma Yangjin’s hand. Wang and Liu, who had been following closely behind us, suddenly lunged forward with surprising speed, covering several strides before crouching down and eagerly pressing their mouths to the water. I gasped in alarm and yelled, “Don’t drink underground water haphazardly! It’s poisonous!” As I shouted, I released Zhuoma Yangjin’s hand and lunged to pull them back.

I managed to grab Clerk Liu first. He was strong and stubbornly straining to drink, so I had to use both hands to pull him backward with all my might, while simultaneously worrying that if I lost my balance, I’d tumble into the water channel on the other side… While carefully controlling my effort to restrain Clerk Liu, I urged Zhuoma Yangjin to grab Section Chief Wang, who was foolishly sucking down the water with guttural sounds.

Zhuoma Yangjin shed her previous composure, her face ashen as she rushed to pull me back, telling me to let go and ignore them. How could I possibly let go! I released Clerk Liu and moved to grab Section Chief Wang, when Zhuoma Yangjin quietly said, “Look closely at the color of the water.” The remark was so odd that I concentrated and peered down: the water wasn’t dark black; it was an incredibly deep, dark crimson, the exact color as the water I’d seen at the abandoned communications station!

“You can’t stop them. They’ll stop when they’ve had enough,” Zhuoma Yangjin added before I could process her warning. I froze, my mind exploding into a chaotic mess, yet amidst the terror, a clarity emerged—the answers to all my questions felt poised to reveal themselves.

The moment we stopped, the gaijin immediately caught up. None of them made any move to stop Wang and Liu; instead, they watched with detached interest as the two men drank continuously from the blood spring.

Just as Zhuoma Yangjin predicted, Wang and Liu only straightened up contentedly when their bellies were visibly distended beneath their thick winter clothes. “Section Chief Wang?” I quickly called out, hoping to ascertain if his mind was lucid. As expected, he stared blankly at me, silent, his expression dull and vacant. As for Clerk Liu, he seemed slightly better; while also not speaking, he lacked that vacancy, his face merely a mask of confusion, as if he had no recollection of what he’d just done.

I inwardly despaired. It seemed we had stumbled right into the lair of the Faceless Ones or the strange worms from the communications station. Otherwise, why would Wang and Liu, who had been acting normally moments ago, suddenly regress to this state? And with this much blood spring water, who knew how many monstrous things it could sustain!

“Keep moving!” Zhuoma Yangjin commanded, her voice brooking no argument. “Forward.” Her icy hand gripping mine signaled that her fear was no less than anyone else’s. But why this repeated insistence on pressing onward? Torn between dread and confusion, my mind was too muddled to find a sensible explanation.

The gaijin continued to let us lead, silent as ever. Zhuoma Yangjin repeatedly cautioned me to stick close behind Wang and Liu, adding that I should ignore everything else and just let them set the pace while we followed closely.

Wang and Liu eagerly took the lead. Their gait was peculiar; their limbs and torsos seemed stiffly, awkwardly coordinated. Given their previous strange behavior at the communications station, was my worst premonition coming true? Was this the nest of the Faceless Ones and the strange worms?

Zhuoma Yangjin seemed to know a great deal, and I wanted to ask her, but she kept her head down, walking forward with a bloodless, pale face, saying nothing. I swallowed the questions forming on my lips.

After tremulously walking only a short distance further, Yamamoto abruptly surged past us without a word.

Zhuoma Yangjin and I exchanged a look, unsure what the gaijin were planning now. Her hand felt colder still.

As we stood dumbfounded, Yamamoto suddenly stopped directly in front of Wang and Liu, blocking their path. In an instant—faster than the eye could follow—he slashed the backs of both Wang and Liu’s hands with lightning speed, then quickly retreated behind them.

Wang and Liu stopped ahead of us. They listlessly raised their hands to their eyes, watching the blood slowly seep from the cuts on the back of their hands, staring at it as if observing a curiosity, like watching someone else bleed. They didn’t even spare a glance for the assailant, Yamamoto.

This move by the gaijin had to have some ulterior motive. I couldn’t help but whisper to Zhuoma Yangjin, “What does that mean?” Her face was so pale it lacked any trace of color. She gripped my hand fiercely, thought for a moment, and whispered back, “I… I… Don’t ask… Don’t rush… Let me see…”

Soon, two small pools of blood formed on the ground. Zhuoma Yangjin told me to ignore Wang and Liu, and to pay no mind to Yamamoto blocking our way. Instead, I was to aim the light at the blood and observe carefully to see if it changed in any way.

I felt sure Zhuoma Yangjin had lost her bearings. What change could human blood possibly undergo? At most, it would darken and clot. If anything, Wang and Liu were standing on slightly lower ground, and if there was enough blood, it might flow downhill. But given the force Yamamoto used, and the location of the wounds on their hands, the quantity of blood would be limited regardless.

However, just as I was thinking this, an eerie sight unfolded: the blood pooled on the ground did not spread out. Instead, it maintained its shape and, with excruciating slowness, began to flow uphill toward us!

Could gravity be behaving abnormally here? Astonishment eclipsed my fear. I widened my eyes, watching the two thin trails of blood writhe toward us like something possessed.