Warriors will die if they charge.

Amidst countless clods of earth and gravel, Marcus gripped the scales and found his way out.

He gripped the edge of the pit to steady himself as he fell, and saw Drow, her eyes filled with fear, falling between two broken bricks. Unlike Bardin and Jenny, she didn't grab onto every possible handhold; she trembled as if the abyss below was hell itself.

The fact that a hybrid drow raised underground is afraid of the abyss is truly ironic...

Marcus glanced down and saw the enormous heart-shaped piece of wood at the very bottom of the fallen object, surrounded by several snake-men who had been inexplicably crushed into mincemeat in mid-air.

He braced himself against a loose rock, grabbed Trish's arm as he fell, and pulled her toward his side, the two of them crashing into a pile of withered vines.

"Don't just stand there, you still owe me a favor."

Triss, transformed into a nightingale finding refuge in the boundless ocean, clung tightly to Marcus's back with her weaponless hands, burying her face in his broad chest, and cried out, "I'm going to kill you, Marcus! Do you know how close I came to thinking I was back in the darkness, back in Rose's web?!"

Marcus gently stroked Trish's back, feeling her trembling heart:

"No, I'm here. No, I swear."

The shattered star map slowly fell to the ground, the heavy soil hitting the hard underground rock without making a sound, as if it were swallowed up by something.

In the silent darkness, a gust of wind suddenly swept by. Marcus didn't even notice the wind passing by. It was the unexpected movement of Trissy's long, silver-white hair, tied in a ponytail, that made him realize that the situation here was no simpler than that of the temple on the surface.

Trish felt it too, and raised her bloodshot eyes, which were wet with tears.

She didn't push away the man who was acting as a cushion; instead, she braced her elbows on his chest, her infrared vision quickly locking onto the wind that had just passed by.

The wind itself has no temperature, but when the wind blows, the bodies of those snake-men are shredded, and every piece of scarlet flesh that falls to the ground is so conspicuous. Even the most evil creatures have blood that carries a trace of warmth...

"Wind element? No, that's not right, wind element can't be this quiet."

Trissy murmured softly, quickly stood up from Marcus, and took his magic longsword. Her body tensed as she stared at the snake-man who had died without uttering a single wail.

After a while, the dazed Bardin and Jenny, relying on the faint, blood-red light that flickered in Drow's eyes in the darkness, successfully gathered together in a place where there was not a single ray of light.

Jenny wanted to cast a light spell to illuminate the area, but there was no magic here, or rather, the magic was controlled by some kind of will, preventing an outsider from using it at will.

Bardin muttered that witchcraft was indeed unreliable. He took a silver grenade from his waist, tapped it twice on his shield, and threw the bomb filled with powder.

In a sudden, intense exposure, in the center of the empty underground cave, a black leopard as large as a bull stares intently at the rye wine.

To be precise, it wasn't a leopard, but rather the light from a spotlight being absorbed by a shadow, leaving only the dark outline of a beast in the light that enveloped the entire area.

Around the black panther were countless snake-men, sliced ​​into pieces. Without exception, they were all dead, and the smell of blood and their wails were absorbed by the outlines of the creatures, as if light itself were being absorbed by their forms.

Hagi leopard?

This was Marcus's first reaction upon seeing the silhouette. He scratched the back of his head, pondering that this might be the Smoke Mirror that Houqin had mentioned. Following the monk's instructions, he slashed his palm with the obsidian dagger. After the cold, stinging sensation, a handful of blood flowed to the ground.

As the light faded, he waved towards the black panther's location:

"I'm the adventurer Houqin commissioned to do this job. You must be Smoke Mirror. Come on, quickly lick the blood off. Let's hurry up and deal with the snake man."

The black panther's majestic and chilling voice echoed throughout the cave. As expected, the three who didn't believe the Water Ghost Queen couldn't understand the language raised their swords and axes, aiming at the roaring beast.

"Do you know who I am, son of Citrali?"

"Smoke Mirror, huh? A black panther guarding the temple... How am I supposed to know who you are? Are you all going to spout a bunch of things I don't understand, like those damn fortune tellers who speak ambiguously and end up doing nothing of any use?"

"I am the Mirror of Smoke, the god of the night sky, war, and witchcraft."

"Alright, Lord Smoke Mirror, quickly lick the blood clean, let's go awaken the Feathered Serpent."

A gust of wind swept past Marcus, and he suddenly felt a pair of strong, fleshy hands press down on his shoulders, causing him to fall to the ground.

The gaping maw, exuding the desolation of the night sky, suddenly bit down on the neck. In the absolute darkness, he could see a pair of glittering black gems—the eyes of the Smoke Mirror.

The dagger-like fangs touched the hair on his neck, and he did not choose to resist, letting the smoke goggles make a tearing motion that was about to pierce his throat.

Four small holes pierced his neck with fangs, and the cold, mysterious voice of the smoke-mirror rang in his ears:

"You should resist, stranger. I could kill you without any effort."

"You can kill me without any effort, so what am I supposed to resist? That's why I hate superstitious religions. God sometimes asks you to rebel, and sometimes he asks you to obey. It's fucking boring, a bunch of bastards." Marcus turned his head and spat. He was actually very dissatisfied with his current situation.

The four-armed basilisk that Houqin easily dealt with might have cost Rye Wine dearly, and the evil god Seth, hiding in the shadows, kept pouring curses into his mind.

Such a high-level dungeon, and the reward is only rare-level cards? That's too much!

"Yes..." Black Panther stared intently at the seemingly resigned outsider, then released his grip on his shoulders:

"Gods are all beasts, you're absolutely right."

Marcus pushed himself up with his hands on the ground and slowly sat up. Time seemed to be affected by some strange witchcraft. Bardin and the others remained in a guarded posture and did not make any further moves.

The outline of the smoke mirror gradually became clear in the darkness. It was a huge leopard made of obsidian, with bright, mirror-like crystals and a swift, agile body.

He turned around and strode towards a tunnel at the end of the cave, turning his head to signal Marcus to follow.

Marcus walked beside Smoke Mirror and voiced his deepest question:

"What exactly does the parchment in Houqin's hand mean? The apocalypse, the death of the known world, was there really an ancient and mysterious civilization in the Riverside Forest? What is the relationship between the Water Ghost Queen and Sitralli? And why can I understand your language?"

"Citralli, once the Daughter of the Stars, now the Water Queen you speak of, wanders the rainforest, adorned with gold ornaments ground from the blood and bones of outsiders, singing her lost homeland amidst annattos, dahlias, and cocoa... Heh." The sneer from the smoke-gazelle made Marcus feel uneasy.

"If Citrali can move freely, why can't you? Instead, you've been targeted by the Swamp God."

Smoke Mirror paused for a moment, raised his forepaw, and gestured for Marcus to take out the gold scales that were placed inside the studded leather armor.

In the endless silence, the golden disc player with its scales dispelled the darkness and transformed into a dazzling lantern, shimmering in the broad palm.

"Vanatl, before the dwarves erected their fortresses in the mountains, before the elves hid in the World Tree, before the lizards roamed the rainforest, before the gods performed their miracles, we already possessed a splendid civilization: pyramids for observing the stars, dragon ships that traversed the cosmos, and gardens filled with cocoa and corn..."

"Citralli, the child who fell from the stars, we raised her selflessly, taught her how to observe the vast night sky in the observatory, and she was made the goddess of the stars... She returned to her homeland on the feathered serpent's feather, bringing back something."

Marcus felt the scales in his hand tremble violently, as if they were extremely resistant to what was about to be said behind the smoke goggles.

"A plague from the stars." Smoke Mirror continued walking forward, his tone calm yet tinged with barely suppressed anger:

"The plague ravaged the rainforest, killing the soil, sunlight, air, and water. Most of the gods perished here, and countless priests, acolytes, and warriors voluntarily gave their lives for the continuation of civilization. The chief stargazer priest who brought the plague chose to flee."

"The gods continue because of sacrifices, and we need blood. I once planned a war against all civilizations on the continent, to save our rapidly depleting homeland with the blood of other races. But the stubborn Kukulkan believed that the plague should be confined to the rainforest. He and Tonatius voluntarily went into slumber, exhausting their divine power to drag their doomed homeland into a demiplane, and forever sealed the plague that was capable of destroying the world in a forgotten corner."

"The apocalypse you see outside the temple is the remnant of the past in the rainforest. These areas, which were slightly affected by the plague, were deliberately cut open to become a buffer zone between the material world and the demiplane."

"And you, because you disagree with them, are trapped here." Marcus pondered, it seemed that even the gods were divided into several factions, the doves led by Quetzalcoatl, the hawks of the Smoke Mirror faction, and then he asked in return:

"I understand the general situation. The bloodline in the Riverside Forest is actually the boundary of a demiplane. Stepping across it means entering the end of Vanatl. So why am I... treated as one of your own?"

"Civilization." The long, drawn-out voice from the smoke-mirror seemed to transcend time:

"Citralli, the water queen you worship is the thread that connects you to Navatl. It is fragile and can be torn apart by a gust of wind, but it does exist. Faith binds us together. Civilization does not need to be inherited by blood, but by identity, Marcus Norfitz."

"Bullshit faith, don't take me for a fool who believes in God." Marcus cursed, then suddenly noticed something strange. Why did the tone of the smoke mirror sound so...modern, almost like a completely different channel from the voice hinting at the path to the sky?

He voiced his doubts, earning a glare from the man in the smoke-glasses.

"I am a god, you little devil. Even though I am trapped here, I can still faintly hear the voices under the night sky. I will tell you ancient secrets in the language of the gods. With your cerebellum development level, you can only roll your eyes and get impatient. You want to find Kukulkan as soon as possible and have no interest in listening to anything about Navatl."

Marcus understood the sarcasm in the smoke-mirror's words, but he still gave a thumbs up:

"You're truly a great deity, really, you understand how to care about Muggles' feelings, much more reliable than those money-grubbing bastards. Next time, could you just translate 'This way' directly as 'This way,' instead of stuffing in something like 'Sky Corridor'?"

"That was said by Kukulkan through Kuchin's afterimage. I must say your previous assessment was correct; gods are all beasts."