Inside the partially collapsed temple, only a few stone pillars remained intact, together supporting half of the main hall. At the far front of the main hall stood a sacred altar covered in cracks, upon which a massive, dark cross stood upright. Suspended from the cross was a naked man, upside down, with clearly visible rust-colored iron nails protruding from his ankles, thighs, and body, accompanied by fresh crimson blood. Dric clearly recognized this as the statue of the "Fallen Creator," yet he still could not help lowering his gaze and studying the face of the figure. He observed that the facial features—nose, mouth, ears—were somewhat blurred, while the eyes were exceptionally well-carved. The "Fallen Creator" held his eyes tightly shut, as though enduring guilt and suffering. "Withdraw your gaze and do not examine the image of the evil deity!" the "Dragon Hunter" Colin reminded solemnly. "Yes, Lord Chief," several members of the exploration team promptly turned their eyes away. — Until today, although the city of Silverspire had uncovered several ruined cities and found textual references pointing toward the evil deities during its various explorations, most of its residents had never seen the statues of these deities. The remaining part of the temple on the ground was not particularly spacious, and the exploration team quickly divided into groups of two or three, completing their inspections without any notable anomalies. Upon observing this, Colin, the leading member of the Six-Body Council, paused for a few seconds before saying: "Let's go underground." As he spoke, he swiftly drew one of his two swords from his back and applied a grayish-silver ointment to it. Then, he removed a small metal bottle from the hidden compartment of his belt, unscrewed the stopper, and drank the liquid in one go. At that moment, Drik felt as though the chief's pale blue eyes had grown slightly brighter. One after another, the members of the exploration team made their most careful preparations, advancing step by step along the stone steps to the left of the deity, illuminated by four animal-skin lanterns. Deryck took over the lantern position and walked slightly ahead on the left, carefully delving deeper into the darkness. He heard the echoes of his own footsteps and those of his companions resonating outward from the stone steps, producing a distant, spacious reverberation. Uninterrupted, this echo signaled absolute quiet below—but in the hearts of each explorer, it sounded like a knock, as though trying to open a secret buried for countless years, thus keeping their spirits intensely alert. After an indeterminate length of time, Deryck finally saw the path ahead become level and noticed the frescoes described by Dac Regin as newly discovered—now visibly stained and polluted. These frescoes covered large sections of the walls on either side, simply painted with muted tones, appearing ancient, weathered, and dim. Derek glanced casually and was immediately drawn to one of the murals: on the wall to the left and slightly forward, a white cross stood at the center, surrounded by black like flowing seawater, engulfing many humans struggling to raise their arms. On the cross itself, the "Fallen Creator" hung inverted, its rusted iron nails and blood-stained marks no different from the external deities. Yet within this mural, the "Fallen Creator" was being gradually eroded by darkness, so that parts of the cross's whiteness had turned black. Additionally, the cross supported a hazy earth, upon which countless humans knelt in prayer toward the "Fallen Creator." In the deepest parts of the darkness surrounding the scene, six figures resembling evil deities were concealed. In the upper left corner stands a young woman dressed in a black classical gown. Her clothing is layered yet uncluttered, adorned with numerous shimmering accents resembling stars. Her body appears slightly ethereal, radiating outward ripples, and her face is blurred, as though she wears a mask devoid of features. Around her, the darkness pulses and stirs, with strange eyes emerging and fading intermittently. Directly above her is a young man dressed in a pure white robe. His face is painted entirely golden, and he has grown radiant, luminous tendrils extending from his body. He holds one decaying green book in each hand and a lance formed of concentrated light, with his chest and back reversed in position. In the upper right corner stands a monster wielding a trident. It has a cephalopod-like head, with wide-open eyes and lightning winding around its body. Its cloak is composed of countless bird feathers, and the darkness transforms into waves, gently supporting its feet. In the lower right corner stands a graceful lady, cradling an infant whose face has decayed; beneath her feet, black wheat waves,泉水 pulsates with masses of flesh, and medicinal herbs ooze pus. Directly below is an elder wearing a hood, revealing his mouth, wrinkles, and white beard. He holds an open book, above which rests an eye symbolizing omniscience. At first glance, this elder appears most ordinary, yet the smile curling at his lips carries an inexplicable, eerie quality. In the lower left corner stands a giant warrior clad in tattered armor, holding a long sword and seated upon a throne, with a melancholy dusk in the background. The mural conveys that during the great catastrophe, the evil deities emerge from the depths, and the "Fallen Creator" bears the overwhelming share of sins and sufferings, resulting in visible erosion and transformation of His form... Yet, I believe He is actually the greatest of the evil deities. Daryl carries a skin-lit lantern, walking and observing the mural, and finds it largely consistent with Dac Regin's description—the central theme being that the region is not abandoned by the gods, but rather protected and sustained by the "Creator" through the age of disaster, preserving civilization. Of course, Dac Regin had only briefly mentioned this earlier, far less detailed than the mural itself presents. Throughout the process, Daryl never relaxed his vigilance; having learned from his earlier moment of paralysis, he remained ever alert, always prepared for unexpected developments. In the dim, yellowish light of the candles, the exploration team moved through corridors, halls, and rooms, delving deeper into the temple's underground areas. Suddenly, a half-open gray stone door appeared ahead of them. Outside the door, clusters of beautiful mushroom-like formations grew—each about the size of a palm, with white stems and bright red caps, sparkling with small dark golden spots. As soon as they saw these "mushrooms," the team members immediately felt a strong appetite, eager to rush forward, pluck one, and eat it. Many swallowed saliva with a gurgle. Nevertheless, most of those who had joined the team possessed considerable experience and solid sequence levels, and having been previously informed, several members stepped forward promptly to speak softly: "Those are decaying flesh and tufts of hairy scalp." Derek knew this teammate—Joshua—and was aware that he had obtained and successfully exchanged for a magical item during one of their expeditions. Joshua extended his left hand, wearing a crimson-gloved hand, and directed it toward the door. A flash of light revealed a blazing fireball that swiftly formed and shot out, striking precisely the particularly alluring "mushrooms." Boom! The ground trembled slightly, and the wave of flame spread out two meters in all directions. When the fire subsided, all the mushrooms had vanished, leaving only scattered chunks of flesh and blood, which made the extraordinary individuals who had been close to the scene feel queasy. "Hunter of Monsters" Colin did not intervene, merely observing quietly from the side, occasionally nodding. "How could mushrooms be made of flesh and hair? Where did the flesh and hair come from?" Joshua withdrew his left hand, murmuring in bewilderment. Another teammate boldly speculated, "Could these have been the original inhabitants of this city?" "It was possible... perhaps their deaths had transformed them entirely into pure flesh and hair. Dariq nodded in agreement. After a brief discussion, the exploration team split into several groups to clear the hall rooms outside the ashstone gate. Once these tasks were completed, they regrouped and moved slowly through the gate, always ready for battle. Beyond the gate lay a sanctuary-like space, with deep, shadowed areas where the light could not reach—its contents unknown. Above the altar, black crosses stood upright, and the "Fallen Architects" hung suspended, inverted. Dariq, closest with his fur-lantern, instinctively glanced at them. His gaze froze as he noticed a difference in the "Fallen Architects" statues from those outside. Their eyes were open! The whites were blood-red, the irises black, gazing directly at the intruders with a lifelike intensity. Click-click-click—Dariq heard the sound of his teeth clattering. He had originally thought the trembling came from one of the players, but soon realized it was himself! Though he didn't know much about the邪神's threats, he now instinctively felt his jaw quiver. Drip, drip, drip. His teammates also showed similar reactions. At that moment, a fine powder lifted into the air, and "The Hunter," Colin, clenched his fists. Thunder rolled! The sound echoed through the hall, jolting Drik and the others out of their dreamlike state. Before they could even take a moment to survey their surroundings, a faint, wavering sound of weeping rose from behind the altar. "Ah, ah, ah..." "Ah, ah, ah..." Amid the painfully quiet atmosphere, "The Hunter" Colin remained calm and issued his command: "Drik, Joshua, go around and check behind the altar." Drik, feeling a chill run through him, held his leather lantern and the "Galeaxe," and, alongside Joshua, moved slowly toward the back of the altar. As the darkness gradually gave way to light, they saw a silhouette coiled at the back of the altar. Taking another two steps, the silhouette revealed its true form—a child of about seven or eight years old, with soft, flowing golden hair. Closing his eyes, he seemed slightly disoriented by the brightness, and cried out excitedly, "Save me! Save me!" Darien's pupils contracted, recalling the cries of distress he had heard in the pure darkness, and instinctively raised his "Fury Axe." At that moment, Colin, the "Hunter of Monsters" who had just joined them, stepped forward and asked seriously, "Who are you?" The child stopped crying and said, recalling, "My name is... my name is Jack..." ........ After dinner, Caine dressed in his coat, put on his hat, and prepared to leave. He was to go find Miss Sharon to resolve an issue involving a baron who had been digging tunnels, and in the process, inquire about the clues related to the mermaid, aiming to complete the task before Sherlock Moriarty the detective made his southward "holiday" visit.