After venturing inside the cavern, the initial rock walls were red. Although bioluminescent moss provided illumination, the sight was far from pleasant.
Yet after pressing deeper along the path, the monotony of red gave way. Crystal-like formations were embedded within the walls, appearing as though they had formed naturally.
These crystals had been carved by human hands into various likenesses. Chen Chuan noticed that they bore a strong resemblance to the motifs of deities depicted on the map; given that they were found here, they were likely the gods of the First People.
As they walked along, almost every single crystal bore a different divine image—tens of thousands densely clustered together. It was easy to imagine what an immense amount of manpower and material wealth had once been spent on them.
However, near the end of this stretch, they discovered that large swathes of the crystals had been deliberately vandalized and smashed to pieces. In one spot, an entire section of the wall had even been purposely gouged out.
It looked like an ugly scar, within which a crude human silhouette had been drawn in charcoal. The lines were exceedingly simple, rendering the various parts of the human body into a few ovals. The strokes were extraordinarily sparse, giving an impression of primitive crudeness; yet looking closely, an uncanny eeriness lingered about it, stirring deep discomfort in whoever beheld it.
Someone could not help asking, "What kind of marking is this?"
Gao Ming looked at it for a few moments, comparing it with the data he had prepared beforehand in his boundary credential. He said to Chen Chuan, "Cousin, this should be a symbol of the Primitive Sect."
"The Primitive Sect?"
Most of those present were baffled, but upon hearing the term relayed by the translators, the First People among them underwent an instant change in expression.
Noticing their faces, someone asked, "Are they people of your First People?"
One of the First People replied with indignation, "No, they are a pack of devils!"
This was not the one-eyed elder's first time here. Gazing at the scene he had once witnessed in the past, he said in a heavy voice, "No matter which tribe a First Person belongs to, none would ever desecrate the statues of our gods. Long ago, a band of devils from the outside forced their way in here. It was they who wrought this destruction."
The First People usually referred to Federation citizens as "otherlanders"; only those from Federation cults were branded as devils.
Gao Ming said, "Cousin, they're right. Among those who destroyed the settlements in Atahorca State back then, there were many from the Primitive Sect. In Atahorca State's Center City, this sect remains mainstream today. And not just in the central Federation—it holds immense influence even on the East Coast."
Chen Chuan hummed in acknowledgment. Before coming here, he had reviewed the materials provided by the delegation, which included descriptions of the Primitive Sect.
This sect believed that only the purest flesh could experience the purest beauty, and thus they eschewed all implants, advocating self-indulgence and the uninhibited release of one's desires. It was said that quite a few elites among the Federation's upper crust had secretly joined its ranks.
In truth, when he first read their tenets, a sense of familiarity had struck him. He couldn't shake the impression that this sect shared much with the Nature faction, and it was quite likely founded as an offshoot of it.
The Nature faction had never placed much value on unity to begin with, championing the unleashing of natural instincts instead. Only within Great Shun did they possess a unified organization; out here on the West Coast, where chaos was the norm, things were probably even more unhinged.
Yet one had to admit that any martial artist from the Nature faction capable of reaching the upper echelons was formidable, for they were sufficiently extreme—or perhaps, sufficiently radical.
He asked, "Elder Gale, how did the people of this Primitive Sect find their way here?"
The one-eyed elder said heavily, "When I came here last time, the priest told me that a traitor arose from within our ranks. He defected to the devils' side and guided them inside. Back then, they sought to seize the Throat of the Star Spirit and offer the gods worshipped by our ancestors as sacrifices to their evil god. But our Isutar people's last Sacred Land Warriors perished together with them right here."
He looked up and added, "Our gods watch over the Throat of the Star Spirit, and they could receive the blessings of the gods."
Chen Chuan nodded. This place was just like Kawatua: both stood upon the ancestral sacred lands of the First People, each bolstered by esoteric rituals and deities, which was why they were not easily breached.
In fact, the destruction of the Quezatec people in the east had likewise begun with internal rot—a classic textbook case of inviting the wolf into the fold.
Just then, someone asked, "Did that traitor end up dying as well?"
The one-eyed elder shook his head. "I do not know. The priest said his corpse was never found in the end. He was likely torn to shreds."
The person asked further, "To know that this place existed, that traitor must have held no small status, right?"
The one-eyed elder said in a low voice, "He was a Sacred Land Warrior, once the warrior who showed the greatest promise of becoming a Great Divine Guard."
Chen Chuan turned the thought over. The total destruction of this place had occurred at least a century ago. If that man had truly died here, all well and good; but if he hadn't, what followed might not be finished just yet.
An esoteric ritual expert from Great Shun stepped forward to inspect it and offered to help them remove the mark.
However, Elder Gale and the others declined. They considered this a disgrace to the Isutar people, one that they had to wipe clean themselves.
The Great Shun contingent did not insist either.
After a brief pause there, they continued onward into the interior.
As for the route ahead, the one-eyed elder could no longer clearly distinguish it. He had only visited once in his youth and left behind some markings, but after so much time, many of those signs had vanished.
Nor could he be blamed. First and foremost, the terrain was overly intricate, one cavern connecting to another with countless branching paths. Some spots were so narrow that a passage remained invisible until one was right before it; other places were choked with dense vegetation. Decades had altered everything beyond recognition, making it impossible to find the way without proper guidance.
Normally, one could only rely on luck or split up to scout. Fortunately, they had brought a map with them this time. Unlike the paths outside that had suffered damage and destruction, the caverns here remained largely unchanged.
After conferring with the one-eyed elder, the team settled on their route forward. Even so, as they passed through cavern after cavern, most of the group lost all sense of direction, save for a select few.
Along the way, several caves had been deliberately blocked, requiring them to clear the rubble. It was likely that those who had fled inside back then did so to keep the traitor from finding the right path.
Though the route twisted and turned, many in the party could still sense that they were constantly descending. By their estimates, they had dropped at least a thousand meters. Yet the barometer readings never shifted, and breathing posed no issue whatsoever, which indicated that they were currently situated within a colossal ritual field that kept their immediate surroundings relatively stable.
After walking continuously for two or three hours, they finally emerged from the labyrinth of caverns. Before their eyes opened an immense subterranean expanse. Most prominent was a hot spring lake resting in the center, its surface veiled in a thin mist that radiated warmth even from a distance.
The crowd pressed toward the water's edge. The lake's center was a profound purple, naturally transitioning outward into royal blue, emerald green, and other vibrant shades before turning golden-yellow at the perimeter. The colors were exceptionally lucid and bright.
Curious beetles could be seen flitting about, their wings and carapaces refracting dazzling colors cast up from the lake. Along the shore, a few small white waterbirds retreated into the distance upon noticing people approach.
Upon the rocks surrounding the lake grew carpets of the bioluminescent moss they had seen along the way. Overhead, it shone with exceptional brilliance, speckling the ceiling like a starry night sky. A stirring current of air drifted through the chamber, sending wave after wave of warm breeze across them until it felt as though they had returned beneath an open sky, immersed in a balmy summer.
Such an enchanting vista was a sight most might never behold in a lifetime, and everyone could not help taking in their surroundings.
Upon reaching the lakeside, Elder Gale spoke with reverence and excitement, "Yes, this is it—the Lake of Gems! This is where the old priest brought me back then!"
He looked around once more, pointing toward one end of the lake. "There! That should be where I arrived in those days. The stones I piled up are still there."
The others looked over. Indeed, a small cairn of stones rested there, and farther behind it, the opening of a cavern was visible—evidently another entrance.
"Back then, my journey reached its end here, and here I paid homage to the ancestors. The priest told me that this was the farthest we could ever reach; to go any farther required the complete key."
The one-eyed elder brought out the pieced-together obsidian spearhead, cradled it in his palms, and knelt down. He then bowed in veneration toward the lake ahead, lingering on the ground for a long time without rising.
The crowd waited for quite a while, glancing left and right, yet nothing happened, nor did any visible change occur.
Chen Chuan did not detect any spiritual fluctuations either, yet he remained patiently waiting.
Elder Gale finally moved. Rising from where he knelt, he walked to the water's edge, gripped the obsidian spearhead tightly, and hurled it with all his might into the lake!
The spearhead traced a long arc through the air before plunging into the ring of purple water. With a splash, ripples spread, and an extraordinary sensation welled up throughout the surrounding area. The originally distinct rings of color across the lake's surface merged outward circle by circle, ultimately coalescing into a pale gold.
The surrounding mist grew thicker and thicker. Flocks of white waterbirds took flight from the edges, letting out melodious cries.
Emotion flooded Elder Gale's face. He shouted, "Follow me!" and dived headfirst into the water.
The other First People hesitated not in the least, leaping into the lake right after him.
At that exact moment, up on the surface, a faint tremor seemed to run through the earth. Waiting above, Gluttony and Iron Crow both sensed it.
Gluttony suddenly licked his lips, an eerie gleam surfacing in his eyes. Rising under Iron Crow's vigilant gaze, he spoke in a resonant, magnetic voice: "I think it is time for us to depart."
Chapter 1081