In Jeep, it was a civilization that was completely submerged by history. This nearly 5,000-year-old civilization once created a myth in human history on the continent of Abel, until the iron hooves of the Roman Empire set foot on this land, and the queen of the Jeep was forced to commit suicide, this myth was finally frozen in the torrent of time.

The incredible fact that his ancestors were the god of death in the desert in Jeep mythology was displayed on the stone wall in front of Jeanne's eyes. The Lykos may not be the kind and peace-loving beings of the tribal elders, they are like wolves with an indelible greed in their blood and bones. They were worshipped as gods by the Jeeps, but after the fall of the Jeep civilization, they occupied their lands and even established the Snowway Nation, where only werewolves lived.

"Will the Licus live forever as beasts......" A bottomless fear welled up in Jeanne's heart, not the distant memories of her ancestors, but the beastly nature hidden beneath her humanoid skin.

"Whatever you're thinking, it's none of your business." Draenor gripped Jeanne's trembling palm, he knew exactly what bestiality was, it was a curse that living beings could not shake off in the process of evolution, and it was the nature of all animals, including humans.

But the word "human" is not used to describe physical characteristics, it is more a proof of the ability to restrain the beast within. Only those characters who can keep their sanity and survive as human beings can be called "humans", and the Canaanites, Misalaans, and Lycos, all of whom have endured the torture of bestiality, and the reason why they can be regarded as "humans" is definitely not in vain.

As a Canaanite, Draenor has come to terms with the harsh reality, but he is also convinced that even if he ends up being a bloodthirsty beast, at least someone will be able to prove that he was once alive as a "human".

"Maybe so, if the Creator really exists, I believe he will not want to see all this." Jeanne reluctantly squeezed out a smile, no matter what the future holds, she only wished she could be with Draenor until the last moment.

Moran sighed and turned around and continued to walk forward, as a descendant of angels, no one knows better than her what has happened in this world, no matter how smart humans are, they are only humans, and their biggest shortcoming is that they foolishly think that they are a unique species. But if all Canaanites had embraced reality as Draenor, perhaps there wouldn't have been so many senseless killings in the world.

In fact, Draenor itself is not as complicated as she imagined, and it is his greatest wish to live safely, if he has any so-called "ambition", it is just to have a pure land of his own.

As they descended the last stone staircase, a narrow, towering corridor appeared in front of them. Just like the pyramid of the pharaoh, there is often such a large corridor in the tomb of the eldest king, and suddenly the space in front of you rises to a height of nearly ten meters, as if you suddenly saw a lighthouse standing in front of you in a vast ocean.

Countless huge limestone stones were finely stacked together, and the sand and earth around were biting winds, and Draenor felt like he was in the mouth of a desert beast. He didn't know how many meters he was underground, and the stone walls on both sides were almost close together, and the feeling of being held down by a huge object was quite unfriendly to a tall man like him.

He curled up and followed Moran through the great hallway, and at the end of it was a stone wall with no gaps.

"How could it be ......" Moran nervously shone his torch on the wall in front of him, reaching out and groping for every nook and cranny where there might be a mechanism.

Draenor suppressed his restlessness, knowing that no matter how much Moran knew about the history of the Licos, he had never personally entered the tomb of the Elder King. He took a moment to observe his surroundings, and seemed to observe a mysterious bronze mirror on the ceiling above him.

Since Snowway is a realm that belongs only to werewolves, the Tomb of the Elder King must have been designed as a tomb that only the Lycos could pass through, and perhaps Jeanne could do something to help them solve the mystery here.

"Jeanne, come and see this." Draeno pointed to the top of her head and said to Jeanne, who followed the direction Draenor was pointing and cast her gaze on the bronze mirror. It looked like a brazier hanging in the air, but the bottom was fairly smooth and flat, and it looked like a gong that had been placed horizontally.

"It's ...... Battle Gong? Jeanne covered her mouth and replayed in her mind memories of her childhood, when the tribesmen would hang the gong on the top of the outpost, and if they sensed an enemy nearby, they would howl at the gong, and the sound of the alarm would be transmitted along the copper wire at the top of the gong to distant tribes. Perhaps this mechanism is the same as the one used by the war gong.

"Mr. Delanor, Miss Moran, please cover your ears first!"

Everyone followed Jeanne's advice and quickly covered her ears with her hands, only to see Jeanne put her palms to her throat and inhale sharply, her chest bulging like a bellows full of air, she put her hands to her lips and let out a wolf-like roar towards the top of her head.

The piercing roar shook the bronze mirror from side to side, and the entire tomb seemed to begin to tremble, and the wall in front of everyone slowly fell downward, and a thick fog of dust suddenly hit from the opposite side.

"Ahem, ahem!" Draenor quickly covered his mouth and nose, but he was still dizzy from the thick fog, and Vikiriko drew his spear and swung it against the thick fog, and the strong hurricane scattered the dust in front of him.

Moran hurriedly protected the torch in his arms so that it would not be extinguished by the strong wind blowing behind him. When she finally stood up and stretched out her torch, she was greeted by a large secret room.

There is only a huge stone road in the middle of the chamber, and the sides are lined with tall sarcophagi, and the delicate carvings on the sarcophagus can be faintly seen, but there are many rough scratches in it, which looks like someone left it on purpose.

"This is supposed to be the room where the Lycos warriors were kept, and it stands to reason that these warriors should be buried after they died, and it seems that the jewels set in the sarcophagus have been looted by tomb robbers." Moran approached a sarcophagus beside him, reaching out his fingers to fumble for the twisted scratches.

Draenor was more shocked by the roar that had suddenly appeared in front of him than the sudden appearance of the chamber in front of him, and even though he had tried his best to clench his ears, he could still clearly hear the loud sound of a wolf's howl. Coupled with the fact that he had witnessed Jeanne transform into a werewolf, Draenor was a little skeptical that Jeanne was really as gentle and cute as she looked.

Just as he was looking at Jeanne in a trance, a gust of wind suddenly blew through the chamber, and it was evident that it was very different from the natural wind blowing in the tomb, it was mixed with the breath of a wild beast, as if some animal had leapt past him.

Jeanne had drawn her dagger from behind her and leaned down into battle, her teeth baring and staring angrily at the dark shadows in front of her. Draenor quickly pulled Cooper behind him, and he pulled out his firearm and aimed it at the shadow-shrouded corners around him, although he didn't know what the hell it was, but he certainly didn't want to be able to entrench in the tomb.

"Don't hide, show up! Otherwise, the only thing that will illuminate you is gunfire! Draenor pointed his gun behind him and slowly walked to the chamber with the others.

As soon as he finished speaking, several pairs of gray eyes suddenly flashed in a corner of the secret room, those terrifying eyes were like demons hidden deep in the River Styx, accompanied by a faint low sound that made Draenor shudder.

He suddenly remembered the legend of Anubis, the god of death in the desert. The monster hides in the shadow of death, waiting for the dying man to appear before you, ready to swing its sharp claws and grab you around your neck and drag you into the cold, lightless afterlife.

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