I was reluctant, but I also clearly realized that there was nothing I could do about it. This road does not work, we can only try to take the downward passage and find a way to go up.

Returning to the "fork in the road" again, Tuttle was the first to lie down and crawl into the cave. I watched as his figure disappeared into the bend of the passage, and as the light faded from my waist, the natural lines of the rock surface seemed to begin to writhe, and even gave me the most strange illusion that the rock pipe itself was wriggling and rolling. There is no clear boundary between the ground and the cave walls, as the relative positions of all the patterns that can be used as references in the line of sight seem to change like ghosts.

Taking a deep breath, relaxing my muscles and bones, and keeping watch on the altar, those churning ominous apparitions finally disappeared from my sight. This is not bad news, because it shows that it is just a delusion in my mind, not something sinister that actually exists.

As Tuttle advanced, the last light in the cavern disappeared. The hole was dark inside, and the darkness inside was almost like a tangible substance. But the darkness seemed like a good thing at the moment—because it blurred what was supposed to be revealed on the inner walls, and literally imprisoned the distorted textures of what seemed to be living things like smoke—as long as I deliberately closed my yin and yang eyes, I thought.

So I did, and went headlong into the hole in the abyss. The size of the cave was a bit narrow for a muscly adult man like Tuttle, but it was easy for a teenager like me to pass through. In the darkness, I groped and crawled slowly. Compared to looking directly at the indescribable strange patterns, the slight bumps caused by the inability to see in the darkness during crawling are nothing at all.

In the midst of this thought, I slowly proceeded at a relatively steady pace, and soon came to the first turning point. I touched the stone wall to change direction. Then came the second one, this time the angle of the turn was larger, the diameter of the cave was also smaller, and I had to twist my body slightly. Fortunately, as a warrior monk, Tuttle's body is very flexible, otherwise he would have been stuck in this position.

As I turned the third corner, the light came into view again—my eyes widened as the dark lines of the rock surface squirmed in the soft light, and a cloudy slime began to seep from the rock face. At the moment, I only felt as if my whole body was being squeezed tightly, and I couldn't move, and the corrosive liquid was drowning me inch by inch.

No, calm down, it's not true, it's not true...... I tried to suggest to myself, whether the scene in front of me was a hallucination or a real phenomenon. Behind him, there was the sound of loose stones clashing against each other, followed by a cacophony of rocks rubbing against each other.

I jumped in fear, the back of my head slammed against the rock, and I felt like the sky was spinning, and the walls around me seemed to squirm and contract. It's like, I'm in the digestive tract of some kind of creature, and the other person is peristalsis and secretes digestive juices. When the thought came to me, a sharp pain rose from my abdomen, irritating my nerves, and the heart-wrenching pain then spread throughout my body.

I couldn't help screaming, feeling as if some invisible restraint had been broken. As I write this afterwards, I don't know whether to say that it was the fear of the unknown, or the heartfelt joy of the situation that my heart desires, from some perverted psychology that I don't want to admit, in short, the excites of every nerve of the senses and the psyche. I've completely lost control of myself.

"Clouds, clouds, sober up!"

It was Tuttle's voice, like a Zen slap in the face, that saved me from this blasphemous nightmare. The wounded warrior monk returned to the cave and, using his limbs, carefully dragged me through the last short passage.

"Are you alright?"

I waved my hand, and my senses gradually returned. The Divine Consciousness looked inside itself, and my abdomen was not damaged in any way, nor was it invaded by foreign objects, and the condensed "Void Primordial Stone" Holy Fetus was also intact. This is very wrong, no matter how clever the mental attack, my Holy Fetus should have reacted, even if it is crushed and defeated, such an unexplained plot - if there really is a mastermind behind it - is too bizarre and bizarre.

Tuttle looked at me thoughtfully, but didn't ask. I hesitated and struggled for a while, but finally decided to tell the other party the truth.

"You mean, you feel the cavern there...... Squirming?and oozing slime?" The monk's brow furrowed, then stretched out, "I didn't notice anything unusual, but I trust you and need to record it." Now have a good rest. ”

I nodded, and took food and water out of my carry-on space. To be honest, I felt a little sick when I saw the food, but reason told me that I had to be nourished and hydrated. After eating and drinking, the highly tense body and mind relaxed, and the drowsiness came to me irrepressibly—Tuttle told me to get a good night's sleep, so I took out my sleeping bag and mat, closed my eyes in this dream place, and fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke up, Tuttle was sitting cross-legged and meditating. I got up and moved my limbs a little, and I felt a lot more energetic after a good night's sleep. A good state of mind allowed me to think carefully about yesterday's experience, so I took out my notes and recorded what happened in as much detail as possible.

"You're awake. What's the status?"

Tuttle ended his meditation at this point. I told him that he was fine and mentally fine, and asked how his injury was – he was mostly recovering, which was a great thing to do, and it meant a lot easier to walk ahead.

After breakfast, I began to look at the cave I was in. It's medium in size, rocky in the same texture as the caves we've walked through, with two "exits" close to each other, both downward-sloping rock pipes, one wide and the other slightly narrow.

I first controlled the flying sword into the larger cavern. The flying sword attached to the divine consciousness followed the ramp as it descended, and the ever-changing outline of the cavern was reflected in my mind. The cave is full of twists and turns and whirls from various angles, but no matter how its internal structure changes, the passage is always spacious, and there is no tendency to narrow and narrow, and it is always going downward.

As the sword progressed, I didn't find any particularly noteworthy forks, only a few narrow crevices that widened into the rock face, some of which probably allowed me to turn sideways, others that could only accommodate an arm. Out of curiosity, I steered the sword into those crevices, most of which terminated deep in the rock, and only a few extended into other, wider caverns or crevices in the rock, none of which we could pass through. So when I got to the back, I didn't bother to probe the cracks one by one.