After thinking for a while, Grey no longer hesitated and leapt straight into the crack from which green gas continuously spewed.
The mont his body passed through the narrow opening, the world before his eyes changed completely.
The interior of the crack was nothing like stone or earth. Instead, it resembled a series of tunnels made entirely of flesh. The walls were slick and uneven, pulsing faintly as though sothing had once lived within them. Thick veins, bloated and twisted, spread across the surface, filled with dark, congealed blood. Yet despite the grotesque resemblance to a living organism, it was clear that these tunnels were long dead. A dense, nauseating stench of decay perated the air, seeping into Grey’s lungs with every breath.
From the veins embedded in the flesh walls, wisps of green gas slowly escaped, drifting lazily through the tunnel before dispersing.
Grey continued forward without hesitation.
When he took in the full scene, his expression remained calm and unchanged. However, a glimr of understanding gradually appeared in his eyes.
"So the green gas originates from these flesh walls," Grey murmured softly. After a brief pause, his gaze deepened. "As for where these tunnels lead... it most likely goes deeper, straight toward the core of this place."
Having realized that the earlier perception of this area was nothing more than an illusion, Grey began to reconsider everything he had seen so far. His thoughts drifted to the altar the captain had ntioned.
However, one thing was certain, the altar could not be in the sky.
If he attempted to fly upward, he would only be heading directly toward the giant head looming above, an existence he instinctively knew he could not provoke. If he had failed to see through the false nature of this place, he would never have realized the danger of his actions. Worse still, he would have unknowingly walked straight into far greater peril.
"For now, exploring these flesh tunnels is the better option," Grey concluded calmly.
With that decision made, his body swayed slightly before shooting forward like an arrow released from its bow.
The ground beneath his feet was soft and squishy, sinking slightly with every step. Each ti he ran past, the flesh walls around him subtly contracted, as though reacting to his presence, or sensing his footsteps.
Despite his vigilance, Grey did not slow down.
He recalled the Soul Devouring Bird and the purple phantom back into his body, sealing them away. At the sa ti, spirit power surged rapidly through his ridians. Combined with the enhanced perception, speed, and control he had gained after becoming a Scion of the Wind Monarch, Grey covered an astonishing distance in a very short amount of ti.
And so, Grey continued forward with a detached expression and eyes as cool and calm as still water. His slightly long grey hair fluttered wildly behind him as he ran.
Several hours passed.
During that ti, Grey gradually noticed sothing strange.
Not a single creature appeared to attack him.
Even the green gas erupting from the veins posed no threat whatsoever, failing to harm him in the slightest.
At first, he dismissed it. But as ti dragged on, a faint frown slowly ford on his face.
"In a place like this, it’s inevitable that I should encounter sothing I can’t fight against," Grey muttered quietly. "Especially with my current cultivation."
As he spoke, his thoughts drifted back to the terrifying existence he had glimpsed behind the door earlier. His body shuddered violently, the lingering fear still deeply etched into his soul.
That presence remained vivid in his mory. Even now, the dread he had felt at that mont refused to fade.
"There must be sothing wrong..." Grey said cautiously. "Even if I haven’t encountered any creatures, I should at least face so kind of setback. After all, I’m exploring a completely foreign territory."
Suspicion crept into his eyes as he slowed down and opened his senses to their limit, carefully observing his surroundings.
Under his near-microscopic vision, he noticed that the flesh walls occasionally trembled and contracted ever so slightly. Aside from that, however, nothing out of the ordinary occurred.
Even when Grey stood completely still in one spot and observed his surroundings for nearly an hour, nothing changed.
"I refuse to believe that there’s nothing wrong," Grey said resolutely.
With that, he resud moving forward. The sound of his footsteps colliding against the fleshy ground echoed through the tunnel, carrying several ters ahead of him.
Unbeknownst to Grey, to his right, a small protrusion jutted out from the flesh wall.
It was extrely subtle, so small that it was nearly impossible to notice. Especially since the flesh walls constantly shifted and contracted on their own.
What was truly unsettling, however, was this...
Grey had already run past this protrusion several tis over the past few hours.
In fact, just monts later, his figure appeared once again from the tunnel behind, rushing forward before passing that very sa protrusion.
Minutes passed.
Then, once more, Grey’s figure erged and ran past it again.
Without realizing it, he had already beco trapped in an infinite loop.
After running for so ti, Grey noticed that the flesh lining the walls had begun to squirm strangely. The movent was subtle, almost imperceptible, like sothing shifting beneath thick skin. However, he did not put too much thought into it.
He continued rushing forward, the squirming flesh flashing past his vision on both sides. As the minutes passed, an inexplicable sense of unease began to take root in his heart.
That unease did not stem from the tunnel of flesh and blood itself. After everything he had experienced, such grotesque scenery was no longer enough to shake him. Rather, it was the absence of anything else that unsettled him.
When he was above ground, he had been constantly assaulted by tentacles erupting from the earth. Even earlier than that, he had fought bitterly against the creatures lurking within the fog. Danger had always been present, tangible, visible, unavoidable.
But now, this tunnel of flesh was completely devoid of any creatures or bizarre existences.
It was eerily quiet.
Even the thick, pulsing walls of flesh could not fully block out the distant sounds echoing from above. Those faint, distorted noises only made the silence here feel heavier, more oppressive.
Grey felt that sothing was terribly wrong.
Yet instead of stopping, he pressed on, his pace quickening slightly. He wanted to see the end of the tunnel, to confirm that this place had a destination at all. However, even after running for a long ti, the scenery ahead remained unchanged, endless flesh, endless darkness.
And with every step, the unease in his heart deepened.
Soon, that unease sharpened into a faint but unmistakable sense of danger.
Grey slowed to a halt. His eyes narrowed, a cold glint flashing within them as he carefully observed the flesh tunnels stretching endlessly ahead. Darkness reigned in all directions, broken only by the dim light emitted from the ball of spirit fire hovering around him.
Without that light, everything would have been swallowed by an impenetrable layer of darkness.
The air was thick and humid, carrying a corrupted stench that clung to his lungs. Patches of decay dotted the flesh-covered walls, blackened and rotting. Yet the decay was unnaturally slow, as though the process had been ongoing for an imasurable number of years without ever reaching its conclusion.
As he silently observed his surroundings, Grey suddenly noticed sothing he had overlooked before.
Within one of the slowly decaying patches of flesh, there was a small protrusion, barely noticeable, resembling a boil or swollen lump. It was so tiny that one would only notice it by focusing intently on that specific area.
Yet what truly caught Grey’s attention was not the protrusion itself, but the decay surrounding it.
The flesh there had completely blackened, rupturing and oozing thick, viscous fluids. The black liquid seeped down the wall sluggishly, releasing a stench so pungent it made the air feel toxic.
Grey’s nose scrunched up reflexively, but instead of turning away, his gaze sharpened.
That decayed patch of flesh felt... familiar.
The realization sent a chill through him.
This was clearly his first ti exploring these tunnels, yet the sense of recognition was undeniable. At the sa ti, the feeling of danger surged once more, spreading through his body like cold poison. A deep apprehension took hold of his heart.
"What is going on?" Grey muttered in a low voice. "Could I have been here before?"
The thought was absurd. He imdiately rejected it, but no matter how he reasoned, he could not find anything else abnormal about this place.
Except for that single decayed spot.
"Just to be sure..." Grey murmured. "I’ll leave a mark here and satisfy my curiosity. Maybe then this strange sense of familiarity will disappear."
As he spoke, he summoned the Soul Devouring Bird.
Simultaneously, a purple saber materialized in his hand. This weapon was a manifestation of the Life Demon Art, a blade condensed from the Life Demon’s aura itself, brimming with eerie vitality and destruction.
A mont later, the Soul Devouring Bird inhaled deeply. Its body trembled as it began to absorb the flesh and decaying blood from the tunnel wall. At the sa ti, Grey moved.
He slashed repeatedly, the purple saber flashing through the darkness. Each strike carved deep gashes into the wall, flesh and blood splattering as dozens of saber marks crisscrossed the area.
In the end, the Soul Devouring Bird devoured nearly seventy percent of the flesh and blood within that section of the tunnel. What remained had been reduced to nothing but mangled tissue and pooled blood under Grey’s relentless assault.
However, at that point, the Soul Devouring Bird suddenly faltered.
After swallowing seventy percent of the flesh, it could no longer absorb any more. Its body trembled violently, faint cracks appearing along its form as if it were on the verge of collapse.
This was abnormal.
Under normal circumstances, the Soul Devouring Bird could consu nearly all forms of life and refine almost anything. Yet this wall of flesh was clearly different.
Grey’s expression darkened. He imdiately recalled the Soul Devouring Bird and ceased his attacks. His gaze lingered on the ruined wall of flesh, the savage slashes he had left behind serving as a clear and unmistakable mark.
He nodded slowly to himself, committing the scene to mory.
Then, without hesitation, he turned around and left.
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