Gazing down from the rectangular green rock, the largest wind cavern at the bottom of the "Wind Erosion Lake" was pitch black, its depth unknowable. Compared to the City of Shadows pieced together from fragments of memory, it was not hard to see that this massive hole at the lakebed was carved out by the giant "Stone Eye" at the apex of the Hive. When the "E'luohai City" collapsed and fell, that massive stone, weighing a thousand jin, pierced the main city's ceiling, running straight down. Based on the structure we had just seen inside the city, even if the substructure had collapsed, the Stone Eye would not have sunk too deeply. Moreover, the lake water had not formed strong undercurrents or vortices, only seeping through the crevices of the city ruins. These signs suggested the lake was not particularly deep. However, to enter the Temple and the Altar deeper than the Hive, one would have to traverse unstable, wind-eroded caverns that could collapse at any moment. Perhaps some of these caverns were dry, and the terrain was exceptionally complex; going down meant risking one's life while completely exposed.

At this moment, the mark on the back of Ming Shu’s neck was significantly deeper than before, indicating our time was extremely limited. Unless we could escape across the vast ocean within a day or two, like Professor Chen, staying near the ancient city's footprint meant we probably wouldn't live more than two or three days. It seemed that the closer one got to the energy of the Ghost Cave, the more tangible and intense the sensation became regarding the illusory space capable of absorbing the scarlet energy. Feeling its existence meant becoming a part of it, never to be freed.

Ming Shu wept profusely, muttering to us that staying put meant death, but descending was like deliberately walking into a gun barrel. Although the fish schools in the lake wouldn't harm us, those two black-and-white striped Jiao might suddenly charge down at any moment. Once such ferocious beasts attacked underwater, no human strength could resist them. Furthermore, who could guarantee what dangers lurked deeper underground? The more he thought, the weaker his legs felt.

Fatty, Shirley Yang, and I busied ourselves with preparations for diving. We had no time to dwell on Ming Shu's complex feelings. Aside from retaining necessary weapons, explosives, lighting equipment, fuel, medicine, and cold-weather assault gear, everything else was discarded. Based on our judgment, since the original site was submerged, the brain of the Glacial Crystal Corpse must have been buried by the Reincarnation Sect beneath the City of Shadows, and her eyes should be directly below the true ruins of "E'luohai City." However, the most likely scenario was that it had already been swallowed by the Fish King. Of course, this wasn't the crucial point; all that mattered was finding the Altar deep underground by following the ruins. Yet, whether the altar of the Demon Kingdom could still exist beneath the earth after such a long passage of time remained an unknown.

I told Fatty and Shirley Yang, "We have overcome so many difficulties together up to this point. Now, this is almost the final stretch. Before we went to Tibet, I asked my Senior Brother to cast a divination for me: 'Only upon encountering water can the Middle Way be attained.' Before, I was skeptical, but now everything seems to be coming true. This journey will surely not be in vain."

Fatty grunted, "Fragrant flowers might not be beautiful, and capable people might not be talkative. I won't say much. Wait until we find the place, and you’ll see what I can do. I don't care if it's a ghost cave or a demon lair; as long as we can come back with something other than empty hands, I'll definitely chip off whatever pearls or jades are there to bring back. Enough said. Let's go, dive in." With that, he pressed the respirator and diving mask over his mouth and jumped straight into the "Wind Erosion Lake," kicking up a splash of white pearls that sent the fish scattering in alarm.

Shirley Yang said to me, "If I hadn't insisted on going to the Xinjiang desert back then, none of this would have happened. I know you and Fatty are generous, so I won't waste time on apologies or gratitude, but I must urge you: be extremely cautious. Don't let your guard down in this final moment."

I nodded to Shirley Yang. She then jumped from the green rock into the lake. I gave a few final instructions to Ming Shu and A Xiang behind me, telling them to wait there and that we would return to pick them up when we were done. Then, I too plunged from the rock. The fish school in the lake was still slowly moving near the crystal wall, having not dispersed despite three people falling into the water.

Just as I rendezvoused with Fatty and Shirley Yang in the lake and before we could start anything, Ming Shu dragged A Xiang into the water as well. I told Ming Shu that this was just causing trouble; they were fine up top, why bother coming down? We didn't have that many oxygen tanks.

Ming Shu, clutching A Xiang and treading water, said to me, "Oh... don't even mention it. We saw movement in the woods up there just now. I think those two patterned Jiao are getting agitated and are about to come into the lake to feed again. I meant to warn you, but my legs felt weak, I lost my balance, and just fell in."

I looked back at the woods by the edge of the "Wind Erosion Lake." Only a slight mountain breeze rustled the treetops; there was no sign of anything unusual. I immediately understood the truth: that old rascal Ming Shu was worried we’d find the Altar, find another way out, and abandon him. This worry wasn't new; it had been with him for days.

Since they were down here, there was nothing I could do; I couldn't just leave them floating in the water. But they only had diving masks, no oxygen tanks, so we had to revert to the original plan: everyone sharing the tanks. I gathered everyone together in the lake and quickly laid out a brief deployment plan: we would descend through the wind-eroded cavern broken open by the massive Stone Eye, taking the route where the water seepage was heaviest.

Just as we were about to descend, the fish school in the lake suddenly showed violent agitation. The fish species other than the white-bearded ones scattered like headless flies, vanishing into the underwater caverns and refusing to reappear. The tens of thousands of white-bearded fish forming the school trembled slightly, appearing extremely nervous.

Seeing the fish's behavior, I immediately sensed something was wrong, thinking to myself: It seems this Ming Shu isn't just an Italian on our side; besides being a hindrance, he might also possess the latent potential of a Harbinger of Doom.

As soon as I had this thought, a portion of the "Fish School" in the lake began to break up. It seemed the "Old White-Bearded Fish" inside had sustained injuries too severe to maintain the formation, and some white-bearded fish, sensing their ancestor might be near death, lost their fighting spirit. However, a remaining segment stayed tightly packed, unwilling to disperse even in death, though its size was significantly reduced.

I estimated that once the fish school scattered or weakened, the "Patterned Jiao" from behind the mountain would quickly emerge. They wouldn't miss the chance to attack and kill that old fish. Shortly thereafter, this peaceful "Wind Erosion Lake" would likely erupt in another bloody storm. If the two sides clashed and the old fish was killed, we would lose our chance to dive.

Seizing the moment, I quickly made a downward gesture. We all submerged into the lakebed. The remaining half of the "Fish School" was moving toward the center of the lake, and we swam directly underneath it. The dense white-bearded fish, their eyes vacant, showed no expression—of course, fish inherently have no expression—but seeing this scene up close underwater gave the impression that these "white-bearded fish" were like soldiers heading to a tragic death, their numb expressions adding a touch of pathos.

Not far below the lake surface was the breach in the top of the "Hive." As soon as we entered, the lake water was violently churned up. Streams of dark blood, fragments of white-bearded fish, and scales were drawn down by the infiltrating undercurrent into the caverns on either side of the wind-eroded rock.

Fatty signaled to me—it seemed a fight had broken out above. He then pointed below: the downward path was blocked by a massive stone sphere, though the original form of the Stone Eye was no longer discernible. A thick layer of transparent copepods and small shrimp and fish from the bottom of the food chain covered it. It looked like we would have to detour around the side. So, taking turns using the breathing apparatus, we slowly swam toward the cavern opening on the side. The deeper we went, the stronger the downward surge of the current became.

In one of the cavern passages, Shirley Yang carefully felt her way forward, confirming which direction was navigable. Going straight down was the most dangerous; the millennia-old wind-eroded rock was already under immense pressure and could collapse at any time. If the "Stone Eye" fell, we would be crushed into meat paste. For safety, maneuvering sideways down was the only reliable option.

Finally, we swam into a large wind cavern spanning about a hundred square meters. It resembled a grand hall from the ancient city, perhaps somewhat like a temple. The ceiling had a large hole, but the chamber was filled with water, and the flow was relatively stable. It seemed there was only one inlet from above; other routes were blocked by sand and rock debris. Water could seep down, but people couldn't pass. We held our searchlights and explored underwater, but our oxygen was running low. If we couldn't find another way out, failing to return to the lake surface meant certain death in this labyrinthine lakebed.

As we felt utterly stranded and anxious, the water in the hall suddenly became turbid. I looked up at the exit above and immediately felt dread: the massive, ten-meter-long old fish was being fiercely bitten by two ferocious "Patterned Jiao," struggling as they dragged it toward the lakebed hall where we were.

The "Patterned Jiao," though only three or four meters long, far smaller than the "Old White-Bearded Fish," possessed incredible strength. With a twist of its body, it ripped off a large chunk of flesh, then bit down on another part. The old fish, covered in wounds, struggled in its death throes, dragging its two mortal enemies downward, occasionally slamming its body against the cavern walls, hoping to shake them off. At this point, entangled and rolling, they plunged into the submerged temple.

In the presence of these underwater leviathans, human strength was utterly insignificant. I signaled everyone to scatter quickly and swim back up. Although the temple was spacious, it couldn't withstand such turbulence, but moving slowly underwater, before we could disperse, the old fish slammed into the temple floor with the two Patterned Jiao.

The temple floor was also made of brilliant white "Wind Erosion Rock." The power unleashed by the dragon-sized white-bearded fish in its injured frenzy was immense. The fish's head was incredibly hard, smashing a large hole directly into the ground. However, the floor of this temple was also sturdy; the fish head became wedged in the opening—it couldn't push down with force, nor could it pull back. It could only thrash its tail wildly, sending plumes of dark blood that nearly stained the water in the underwater temple crimson.

All plans were ruined. We feared being struck by its tail in the chaos, so we dispersed to various corners to hide. Since we were scattered and underwater, I had no way of confirming if the others were alive; everyone could only pray for themselves.

The two black-and-white "Patterned Jiao," seeing the old fish trapped, were ecstatic, circling underwater with bared teeth, plotting where to strike to end the Fish King's life. Stimulated by the blood in the water, they seemed overly excited, like addicts high on a drug. In their frenzy, they actually discovered the humans in the chamber. One of them whipped its tail underwater and shot toward us like a black-and-white torpedo.

At this moment, cracks began to appear around the hole in the temple floor, and muddy, bloody water poured down, instantly increasing visibility. I swept my underwater spotlight across the area and saw the emerging Patterned Jiao lunging directly at Shirley Yang and A Xiang, who were sharing one oxygen tank and hiding in a corner, hoping for a chance to escape, but it was too late. I wanted to rush over to rescue them, but how could I possibly be as fast as the torpedo-like "Patterned Jiao"? Moreover, even if I reached them, I wouldn't be more than a mouthful.

The situation was dire. Suddenly, the pressure of the underwater undercurrent increased sharply. The thousand-jin Stone Eye, stuck in the middle of the Hive, finally gave way and fell. The Patterned Jiao lunging toward Shirley Yang and A Xiang was momentarily stunned by the sudden appearance of the colossal rock and forgot to dodge. It was struck squarely. The lake water's buoyancy was limited, and the stone's descent brought the entire lake above cascading down. After hitting the "Patterned Jiao," it didn't even pause before smashing through the temple floor below, sending everything within the chamber rushing downward in a massive torrent of water.

In the water, I felt as if the world was spinning, my body plunging into a bottomless ghost cave—a subterranean space unimaginably vast below. I could only clench my mouth and nose to prevent choking on the violent current. In a daze, I perceived large patches of white light below, perhaps optical illusions born of chaos. I had no idea where the others had gone.

My body landed in another lake. The rocks here faintly emitted a pale fluorescence, though it was hard to discern clearly. Above my head, hundreds of water columns of varying sizes poured down through cracks in the overhead rock ceiling. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed me. I focused and saw it was Fatty. Seeing a companion who had faced life and death with me brought immense relief. I switched on my helmet light, searching for the other three.

Since the water here continued to rush eastward into a deep chasm, any moment of inattention risked being swept further down. Fatty and I had no choice but to swim to the nearby shore first. We shouted ourselves hoarse for a long time, but our cries were drowned out by the sound of the rushing water. Ming Shu, A Xiang, and Shirley Yang were all missing.

Fatty and I agreed they must have been swept downstream, and we decided to find them on the route below—to see a living person or retrieve a corpse. The subterranean world’s geography and landscape were the most bizarre we had ever witnessed. As soon as we started to move, we saw a large dragonfly-like aquatic insect, glowing with fluorescence, fly overhead. It was over six cun long, like a white ghost dancing in the air.

Distracted by the sight, we didn't watch our footing. We had stepped onto a slope of loose gravel, and both of us lost our balance, tumbling and sliding down. Before we could react, we were airborne, falling about seven or eight meters before landing on a soft, spongy mass. We were dizzy and disoriented, but thankfully, the surface was soft, and the fall didn't hurt. Then, I suddenly realized something was off about the texture... it felt like we had fallen onto flesh. I quickly forced myself to calm down and looked closely. It wasn't flesh. Fatty and I exchanged a glance: "This damn thing is probably a mushroom... a King Mushroom ten stories high."