Not far away, an old man looked serious, staring at his feet. I don't know www.biquge.info when there was water on the ground of the cave. In fact, water droplets have been falling on the top of the cave, and puddles have formed in some places. But now it's different, there's water all over the ground, and it's almost as deep as your feet are bare. Everyone was concentrating on the fight, and no one was paying attention.

The old man is a wizard, and his old face is wrinkled, and it is becoming more and more dignified at this time. The water is still rising under your feet, but no one is paying attention. He thought of an old legend that had been passed down from generation to generation in his tribe, so old that even his grandfather's grandfather had almost forgotten it, only occasionally mentioning it to future generations. By his generation, it had almost been forgotten.

The wizard's face was stiff, and the violent gunfire and shouts of murder could not reach his heart, and his heart could not hold anything but the legend. The legend mentions the palace of hell, the dark forest, the cursed mandala flower, and of course, the flood...... When the flood hits, the curse on the mandala flower will be fulfilled, engulfing the entire dark forest and palace, and bringing all that is alive to hell.

The sorcerer's stiff face was filled with horror, and the water beneath his feet was swelling at a perceptible rate, was the legendary flood coming......

Everyone felt something abnormal, and the water was swelling so much that it was up to the knees. The scrivener box was no exception, and he could even clearly feel the water rushing from the direction of the cave entrance. He thought of the "silver line of sky", thought of the underground dark river, and it was not uncommon for water to flow in.

The battlefield fell silent, and sometimes water was more terrible than bullets. It was found that there was a thin layer of "roots" floating on the surface of the water. It starts out as thin, thinner than a human hair, and after absorbing water, it begins to expand at a rate visible to the naked eye. In a short period of time, it expands to the thickness of a clothesline and then to the size of a finger.

The roots are no longer roots, and they are dense and almost crowd the surface of the water. The power of the "roots" has been seen, and no one who is alive will change color. Everyone desperately climbed up the stalactite, the stone was very slippery, and some people accidentally fell down, and in an instant they were submerged by the thick roots and never got up again.

The scrivener squatted on a stalactite, looking at the rising water, and a sense of powerlessness rose in his heart, not knowing how long he could hold on. However, the Japanese were worse than him, two of them were already submerged by the thick "roots", and the other three were enclosed on a thick stalactite. The weapon had long since been abandoned, and only the expert-like guy had survived a small bag in his hand and a bouquet of flowers in his other.

The sniper rifle in the scrivener box has also been abandoned, the stalactites are slippery, and it is quite laborious to climb up, and people can only choose one gun. The others were similar, bows, broadswords, spears, everything was left underneath. It's good now, everyone looks at each other across the water, but they can't shoot anymore.

The wizard found the scrivener, and a pair of old eyes were uncertain, and only he knew his mood. For a short time, I focused my attention on the water below. Ancient legends, are they really coming?

The water is still rising, and if you go down, it is estimated to be waist-deep. The space was quiet, and everyone was staring at the surface of the water and the thick roots on it. What I think about is no longer fighting, and going out alive has become the most urgent and unattainable wish. There were no weapons, everyone looked at each other across the water, and the atmosphere was a little weird.

There was also a pistol and a scimitar at his waist in the scrivener, and the only three remaining Japanese had no way to survive as long as he wanted to. However, he didn't want to make a move, the Japanese, the natives, and him formed a delicate balance, if the Japanese died, he would have to face the natives alone, and the two sides were not without enmity, and it was difficult to say how things would end.

The water is rising at an accelerated rate and is almost visible to the naked eye. If you go down, you probably won't be able to go up. Some of the shorter stalactites are completely submerged.

The sorcerer's face was as dead as ashes, and what happened before his eyes was like an ancient legend, and if that were the case, no one would get out alive. The stalactites where many people are located are not very high, and if the water rises another foot, many people will sink into the water. The water may not be terrible, but what is terrible is the soaked and swollen roots.

A faint whining sound came from afar, like the roar of a wild beast. The people did not understand what was happening and looked into the distance, seeing nothing but darkness. The wizard's brows tightened, and his wrinkles deepened a lot, and the flood was coming, engulfing the entire black forest and palace! Isn't the dense stalactites a black forest, and the huge space is naturally a palace.

The others also realized that something was wrong, that the whine was not the roar of the beast, it was the flood! The roar went from weak to strong, almost instantaneously. A huge wave has been slapped, and many stalactites have been submerged, and another wave has been slapped, and more stalactites have been submerged.

The person hiding on the stalactites is like a leaf of duckweed, beaten by the waves without a trace. The scrivener clung to the stalactites, but it still didn't work, a wave slapped over, and the person fell into the water. His body was immediately surrounded by a soft mass, and he wanted to surface, but his hands and feet seemed to be restrained, and his movements were stiff.

The scrivener had a premonition of a huge sense of crisis, and he saw with his own eyes that someone fell into the water and never floated up again, not because he couldn't swim, but because the roots were doing tricks. Now he has the same problem, the roots seem to have life, and they are attached to the human body. The scrivener's chest was stuffy and his head was swollen, and he subconsciously exhaled a breath, and the feeling of fullness was temporarily relieved. Trying to break free of one hand and take out the scimitar at his waist. The roots are soaked very thick and soft, and they are wrapped around the hands and feet. Soon, an even more suffocating sensation hit, a lack of oxygen, and every cell in the body protested. The scrivener exhaled again to relieve the discomfort of the body.

The chest stores less and less gas, and the time to relief becomes shorter and shorter. My brain was so swollen that I wanted to take a deep breath all I wanted to do. But he held back, because if he did that, his chest and lungs would be uncontrollable, and he would choke to death.

The scrivener shook his limbs desperately, and finally broke free of one hand, took out the scimitar in his waist, and slashed around his body. The blade swept by, and the roots were cut off one after another, like a knife cutting vermicelli. Soon the body was able to move, and the body shook and jumped out of the water. The first thing is to breathe, to breathe in a big gulp, to breathe in all the air.

The fire had long since been extinguished, but the space was not absolutely dark, and the finger-thick roots floated on the water, and the skin glowed with a faint silver light. The roots crowded the water, slowly wriggling as if they were alive, especially against the backdrop of darkness.

The scrivener is above the shoulders of the water, and there is a faint silver light everywhere, and the roots are everywhere. He had the idea that the root tendrils were not only alive, but also belonged to some extremely rare animal, which had been dormant all along, and now it had woken up. He was right in the middle of them, surrounded by countless roots, and he didn't know what was going to happen next.