Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3044: Elyon’s Skills

Daoist Chu glanced at the wolfkin before speaking.

”It’s not just darkness,” Daoist Chu murmured from beside him. ”It’s awareness. A kind of elemental empathy. I’ve only seen that level of mastery from high elder shadow cultivators in the Midnight Osmanthus Sect.”

”And he’s only at the Fifth Tribulation Stage of the Immortal realm...” Meng Bai muttered, more to himself. ”How terrifying would he be at the peak?”

As if to prove their point, Elyon halted once again at a widened alcove. He pressed his hand to the ground, and small cracks of darkness spread like lightning through the stone. Then, silently, a section of the floor dissolved—no trap, no mechanism. Just eroded away under his will.

A faint gust of heat wafted up.

”There,” Elyon said. ”The lower chamber.”

Without waiting, he dropped down.

Lin Mu followed right after, floating down with ease. His cloak fluttered as he landed, already activating his immortal sense to map underground structures. The moment he did, he felt it.

A pressure in the air. Not hostile... but ancient. Dormant.

It was different from the Earth Flame energy in the basin above. Here, the fire and earth elements had mingled for so long in isolation that they had become something more primordial. He could feel the resonance in his cores already—the fire in his chest throbbed, and the earth in his spleen tightened in anticipation.

Daoist Chu landed next, followed by Meng Bai who was carried down by the twin snakes.

The chamber below was massive—like a buried temple carved directly into the rock. Pillars lined the walls, though many were cracked or broken. Faint inscriptions adorned them, worn down by time.

And at the far end of the chamber... a platform. And upon it, charred marks.

”They were here,” Elyon confirmed, voice low. ”There was a battle. Or a ritual. Maybe both.”

Lin Mu stepped forward, sensing the residual Sword Qi faintly humming from the platform. His eyes narrowed.

”This Sword Qi... it’s familiar. It’s from the elders.”

”Then they really did fight,” Meng Bai muttered.

”But who did they fight?” Daoist Chu asked, brow furrowed.

Elyon sniffed again, then paused. ”There’s a trace of foreign qi... sharp, slippery. Too hard to pinpoint.”

”Ephemera Sect?” Meng Bai guessed.

Elyon nodded. ”It’s possible.”

Lin Mu turned toward the far side of the chamber, where a narrow tunnel wound deeper into the earth.

”There’s more down there,” he said. ”Their path didn’t end here.”

Elyon straightened and grinned faintly. ”Good. Because I didn’t walk into a molten ash pit just to stop at the first dead end.”

As they stepped forward again, shadows wrapped around them—not as a threat, but as a guide. And through it all, Elyon’s senses pressed ahead, tracking what others could never see.

They hadn’t just found a trace of the elders—they were now walking the same path. And whatever waited at the end, Lin Mu knew: they were getting close.

The group reached the base of the chamber after descending through a long, winding tunnel that seemed to stretch deeper and deeper with no end.

But finally, the tunnel opened into a cavern—so wide that even with Elyon’s enhanced vision, he couldn’t see the far wall clearly at first glance. The space was vast and hollow, as if the heart of the mountain itself had been scooped out.

Snaking through the walls, ceiling, and even parts of the floor were glowing veins of Earth Flame energy, radiating hues of red-orange, molten gold, and searing white.

The glow bathed everything in a strangely beautiful, yet ominous light. It was like standing inside a beating heart made of flame and stone.

Meng Bai stepped forward and looked around before letting out a long, exasperated sigh.”Why is it always an underground cave? And why is it always some creepy ruin filled with ancient nonsense?”

Daoist Chu chuckled softly behind him, adjusting the folds of his sleeve as his gaze swept across the cave. ”Because that’s how these kinds of places are. The older the secret, the deeper it’s buried.”

”You mean cults?” Meng Bai asked, half-suspiciously.

”Cults. Forbidden sects. Fallen orders. Take your pick,” Daoist Chu replied, walking past a half-collapsed stone pillar and brushing his fingers across the surface of the wall. ”And yes, I’m quite certain this place belonged to one.”

”How?” Meng Bai asked. ”It’s not like there’s a big sign saying ’Welcome to the Evil Underground Cult Headquarters.’”

Daoist Chu stopped, then pointed to the wall beside him. Upon closer inspection, it became clear there were ancient Daoist scripts etched into the stone—most of them weathered by time, cracked by heat, and worn away by elemental erosion. But a few lines still shimmered faintly, as if resisting the ages.

”Look here,” he said, tracing his finger across the text. ”’When the Drowned Crescent fell, it was swallowed by the Gullet of the Earth. The mouth closed behind us, but the flame remains... eternal.’”

”...The drowned crescent?” Meng Bai repeated, tilting his head. ”What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lin Mu stepped forward, frowning thoughtfully as he reread the script. ”It could be a metaphor,” he said slowly. ”Or... it might refer to the volcano itself. The shape of the Verdant Ash Basin—when seen from above—does resemble a crescent. And if the volcano erupted violently enough in the past, collapsing into itself, then it would have drowned in its own fire and stone.”

”Which would make this ’Gullet of the Earth’ the hollow that was left behind,” Daoist Chu murmured, nodding.

Meng Bai scratched his head, looking around. ”Still doesn’t explain why it’s always creepy ruins. Do they just like building temples in volcanoes and underground caves?”

”They don’t do it for fun,” Elyon said, his deep voice echoing softly in the chamber. ”They do it because these places are hard to find. Harder to reach. They hide their truths in fire and shadow.”

His golden eyes flicked across the cavern, sharp and focused. ”And whatever they were doing here... they didn’t want anyone to follow.”