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墨書 Inktalez
Seven looked at the skull in front of him, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over him. "There won't be anything sinister ahead, will there?" He crouched down and picked up the skull. Under the flickering firelight, the white skull had yellowed in some places and darkened in others.
Not sensing anything unusual, Seven tentatively threw the skull forward. There was no significant noise, but it rolled back to him. This time, it wasn't just one; two skulls rolled back, and a sound echoed from the water, clearly indicating that something had fallen into it as well.
Holding his torch high, Seven cautiously moved forward, his heart racing. After a short while, the sound of flowing water seemed to become chaotic.
The light from the fire expanded, revealing several skulls scattered on the ground. Eventually, he came upon a pile of skulls stacked horizontally in the river. Estimating, there were hundreds of them. A chill breeze swept through, causing Seven to instinctively tighten his clothing as an unsettling feeling crept into his heart.
At that moment, the torch seemed to be burning low, and thick black smoke began to rise. Seven's heart raced; it would have been better if he had some companions with him. Being alone was indeed chilling.
He decided to retreat but was met with another cold gust of wind that extinguished his already faint torch. The air was filled with a lingering unpleasant odor from the burnt-out torch.
Gripping his shovel tightly, Seven found himself surrounded by darkness. He leaned against the wall as he backed away when suddenly green light flickered to life within the pile of skulls. It started with one point of light, then two, and soon patches of green illuminated every skull's eye sockets. Seven had never encountered anything like this before; could it be ghosts? He thought to himself, "Damn it! If there are ghosts, there can't possibly be this many!"
Still backing toward the exit, Seven was fundamentally a non-believer in supernatural beings; he trusted science more than anything else. So despite his fear, a belief lingered within him that there couldn't possibly be ghosts in this world.
Just then, another strong wind blew through, accompanied by a deafening roar that sounded like rushing water. As expected, a torrent surged forth effortlessly from the pile of skulls, extinguishing the green light instantly. Seeing this, Seven turned around and fled for his life.
The flood rushed toward him as if trying to break through the cave's entrance. Seven couldn't move fast enough and was quickly engulfed by the water, swept away without knowing what to do. In no time at all, he was carried down from halfway up the mountain by the waterfall.
A few lizards lingering on the ground were startled by this scene and quickly scurried away. As Seven fell into the water below, he found himself sinking deeper into a pool formed at the base of the waterfall. He began to struggle upwards after sinking for a while but was pulled down again by the swift current for about a hundred meters before finally managing to surface.
Once ashore, he tossed aside his backpack and gasped for breath. Damn it! That was exhausting; this river didn't follow any logic at all. The sun was now directly overhead; it hadn't been long since he entered but now he emerged in such disarray. Not wanting to dwell on it too much, Seven slowly stood up. The river water appeared murky under the sunlight as he sighed and took out items from his backpack one by one to let them bask in the sun.
After setting everything up, Seven stared at the inexplicable floodwaters and noticed many floating wooden planks and other debris on the surface.
He felt a sense of curiosity rising within him.
The flood continued until the following evening before gradually receding, returning to its original state by the morning of the day after next.
During this time, Seven did not leave; he remained there observing the river's surface. Once the floodwaters receded, shallow waters glimmered under the sunlight.
A bronze artifact stood abruptly above the water's surface, about a meter tall—it was a Tripod Bronze Cauldron. Excitedly intrigued by antiques as he was, Seven immediately ran over to examine it closely.
The diameter of the bronze cauldron was about 80 centimeters, with the three protruding ears extending 20 centimeters. This cauldron was estimated to be very old, covered in a layer of green patina.
There were decorations on its surface. Seven observed carefully; the engravings depicted a sacrificial ceremony, but due to the passage of time, it was difficult to discern the details. He could vaguely make out a figure with long hair kneeling on the ground, awaiting death.
Ancient people believed that their bodies were gifts from their parents, so they took great care of themselves. Regardless of gender, they all wore long hair. Since only the back of the figure was visible on the cauldron, it was impossible to determine whether it was male or female. The markings on the clothing had also become indistinct, and after examining the entire cauldron, he could still faintly see some cattle and sheep.
Seven slowly straightened his bent back and pushed against the cauldron, but it did not budge at all.
"What a fine item; too bad I can't take it," Seven murmured to himself. He needed to think of a way to get it out. If he could manage to take it, it would surely be worth a lot of money and ensure his comfort for the rest of his life. After pondering for a while about this dubious idea, he realized he couldn't move it right away. Seven continued walking through the water. The murky water had not yet cleared, and he couldn't see what lay beneath. He swept his foot around the cauldron.
There should be more treasures in this river. Before long, he found a clay pot in his hand. The pot was unglazed and retained its earthy color but was already somewhat damaged. Seven stared at it for a moment before striding back to the shore to place the clay pot down carefully.
Standing on the water's edge and looking at the bronze cauldron, he felt troubled.
Seven went back into the water to continue his underwater exploration, completely disregarding his own fatigue. As expected, he soon touched another piece of porcelain and hurried back to shore, entirely forgetting his current predicament. He dove back into the water again, but this time luck was not on his side; he stumbled upon a skull. "Damn it," Seven cursed as he continued to find more skulls one after another. He tossed each one aside without thinking, and before long, there was a growing pile of skulls accumulating beside him. The collection of antiques he had placed on the shore also increased as Seven's body began to feel tired. By then, the pile of skulls had formed quite a mound. Upon seeing this heap, Seven couldn't help but gasp in shock; a chill ran down his spine.
Fortunately, it was broad daylight; otherwise, he would have been scared out of his wits.
Seven glanced at the thirty or so antiques on the shore and found some solace in their presence despite feeling empty inside. After a while, however, he became troubled again; these items were impossible to take with him.
Everything had happened so suddenly that it felt like an unexpected windfall. Seven walked in place as the bronze artifacts stood rooted in the water before him.
Once settled down, he noticed that the sun was nearing its descent behind the mountains. In such a place where life and death were uncertain, what use were these material possessions? As these thoughts crossed his mind, he couldn't help but feel bitter inside. Moreover, First was likely already dead; that fake "First" could pose a threat to Second and Third's safety.
That night, under moonlight like flowing water, the bronze cauldron seemed to emit a faint glow while the pile of skulls remained eerily still.
Seven lay on a piece of blue stone, gazing up at the moon. It seemed as if the moon was winking at him with a smile; his nerves began to relax as he gradually drifted into sleep.
That night he dreamt again—at the end of a river lay an idyllic paradise that suddenly transformed into purgatory. Then he saw Third bound to a massive bronze pillar, suffering under torture while crying out for help: "Save me! Save me..."
Desperate to rescue him, Seven rushed forward when suddenly Third's face twisted into an insidious grin as he transformed into a grotesque monster. This fright jolted Seven awake from his dream, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
Realizing it had just been a dream made Seven smile bitterly as he wiped away his sweat. The moon had already begun its descent toward the east as Seven closed his eyes once more to rest.
In the late hours of the night, it was relatively peaceful; there were no dreams to disturb him. Seven woke up feeling sore in his back and waist. He breathed in the freshest morning air, had a light meal, and replenished his energy.
At this rate, the food would last him about four days, but if he rationed it, he could stretch it to eight.
Seven glanced at the pottery and porcelain around him, as well as the small bronze artifacts. His eyes fell on a large bronze cauldron in the water. With a sigh, he contemplated how to escape this cursed place and reunite with the others as soon as possible.
He slung his backpack over his shoulders and picked out a delicate bronze piece among the antiques before heading in the opposite direction of the outlet. Seven feared that if he turned back, he might never leave.
He hurried forward, feeling a faint pain in his heart, but with each step away from that place, his resolve to escape grew stronger.
As he pressed on, the number of stone pillars increased, and his path veered away from the river. Seven carefully examined his surroundings; his mind was blank with confusion.
This Stone Forest was nothing like the orderly one he had entered; it was chaotic and disorganized. He looked up at the sky, which was filled with drifting white clouds, offering no clues.
Judging by the wind direction and other natural markers seemed ineffective here; he was relying solely on instinct to navigate.
Based on Seven's pace, he estimated he had covered about seven or eight miles. After pushing on for another five or six miles in a straight line, something obstructed his view ahead. As he approached, his heart sank—before him stood a sheer stone wall, as if it had been sliced down by a knife. It was truly a marvel of nature. The wall appeared to be about thirty meters high; there was no way for a person to scale it.
Without pausing, Seven moved on and changed locations three times until night fell again. Now, despair washed over him; he found himself surrounded by stone walls on three sides—impossible to climb. "Damn it, this is a trap," Seven muttered weakly. By the time he reached the third wall, darkness enveloped him. He decided to return to his original spot tomorrow and rest here for the night.
The night air was cool, and a gentle breeze brushed against him. Seven felt utterly defeated; any hope of escape had vanished. Tonight would surely be a sleepless one.
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