Chapter 256: The Mural
Cold air surged inward from all directions toward the center. For some reason, the air here had grown even colder than before, cold enough to make his body stiffen slightly.
A pale blue light flickered across his palm, spreading protectively across his body. Yet even with the Impervius Charm and Warming Charm added to his protection, the surrounding air remained bitterly cold.
Was this the pyramid's true natural temperature? Or was this only the temperature that existed in his presence?
The silver-white light surrounding his form gradually faded. Evans lifted his head, gazing down the corridor ahead.
The corridor had transformed noticeably compared to just minutes ago. The eerie green flames on the walls burned intensely, some reaching all the way to the ceiling.
Beyond this, Evans sensed something else. Countless gazes pressed at him from all directions—gazes laden with resentment, malice, even hunger. Yet when he looked toward the sources of those gazes, he found only walls and ceiling. His fairy companion's danger sense triggered no warning.
Such extensive changes, yet no dangerous monsters had appeared. This struck Evans as distinctly odd.
He'd prepared himself mentally to face a swarm of creatures the moment he entered. If his hypothesis proved correct, the pyramid's transformation stemmed entirely from his previous actions.
Yet he'd walked this distance with no monsters encountered. They were actively generating outside, so why had their behavior reversed once he entered?
Puzzled, Evans continued deeper into the structure. The further he walked, the deeper his confusion grew.
Upon reaching the intersection of the two corridors, Evans hesitated only briefly before choosing the left passage without deliberation.
Unlike before, this previously dim corridor now blazed with eerie green flames. He could directly see the successive rooms lining the corridor's end.
After passing through several chambers, the corridor remained unchanged except for growing even colder. Evans found himself increasingly baffled.
He had previously theorized that the monsters might select their targets based on negative emotions. Yet the gazes pressing upon him from all directions had already fixed on him, their numbers so numerous that they exerted subtle psychological pressure.
Surely those creatures couldn't simply watch without attacking when deprived of negative emotions?
Or perhaps his reasoning was flawed entirely. The gazes emanating from all directions might not originate from the monsters born from black mist at all.
If that were true, dealing with the creatures would be only half his concern. He'd need to remain vigilant for other potential enemies that might exist.
Regardless, trouble multiplied on all fronts.
His eyes flashed with seriousness as Evans observed his surroundings with increased caution, deliberately slowing his pace forward.
Though his fairy companion granted danger sense, she had warned him on the day he gained this gift not to rely solely on it. Danger remained difficult to quantify. Magical creature abilities weren't impervious to disruption. Even the modest fairy colony she led had experienced instances where predators circumvented danger sense to hunt them.
Even with his enhanced gift, he couldn't assume complete safety simply because danger sense remained silent.
"Exhale..."
He now stood in an enormous chamber. Eerie green flames burned on both sides, bathing everything in their weird luminescence. Unfortunately, these flames produced no heat whatsoever, unable to dispel the bone-chilling atmosphere pervading the corridor.
Even with the Impervius Charm and Warming Charm layered upon his body, the bitter cold caused discomfort.
Frowning slightly, Evans paused briefly, reaching into his pocket to withdraw a cloak, draping it over his shoulders. Only after feeling somewhat warmer did he resume walking forward, intent on exploring this chamber.
Yet after just two steps, he stopped abruptly, turning sharply toward the wall beside him. Throughout his extended journey, the walls had undergone no substantial changes—merely varying brick dimensions.
But now, before his eyes appeared an enormous mural that seemed abstract yet impressively grand in scale.
The mural's beginning depicted ruins and wreckage, with several staff-wielding figures standing amid the devastation. The mural's artistic style made its expressions difficult to discern, but such imagery suggested anything but a happy narrative.
As the scene progressed, everything that followed confirmed Evans's suspicions.
A group of tattered-clothed figures trekked through successive ruins. Their numbers dwindled progressively, their clothing deteriorated, and even the wand-bearing leaders preceding them had diminished significantly.
Yet they appeared driven by an utterly clear objective. Despite losing so many people, none slackened their pace.
Until they reached their final destination.
A fertile plain lay before them, abundant with sustenance. They rested and recovered here. The population within the mural increased continuously as cities rose from nothing, as weapons and shields began accumulating in mural segments.
Finally, deciding they'd accumulated sufficient strength, the staff-bearing figures rose and led their people on an expedition. They returned to their former ruins, engaging legion after legion in combat. Blood pooled into rivers across the ground. War continued relentlessly—they died continuously, yet others joined endlessly, as though the conflict would never cease.
Until finally, they won.
Amid a sea of blood, they raised a brilliant crimson sphere.
The figure raising that sphere gripped a staff in one hand, surrounded by cheering crowds. Even in such an abstract artistic style, Evans could perceive the artist's immense joy radiating from the scene.
As if everything would improve simply with that brilliant crimson sphere present.
The following images confirmed this notion.
The sphere was enshrined in the center of an altar. Every warrior approaching the altar developed brilliant crimson patterns alongside their forms—seemingly symbolizing they'd received power.
War's scale expanded progressively. They conquered city after city, achieving victory after victory. Their numbers multiplied, and among them appeared figures that resembled wizards.
Then the image suddenly froze. In the mural's center, elegant script suddenly manifested—handwriting refined enough to suggest a female author.
"We should have pressed forward, reclaiming everything that was ours. But because of you, everything changed!"
The script glowed for approximately five seconds before gradually fading. The mural on the wall then transformed, shifting from its previous stirring tone into something melancholic and tragic.