Chapter 2318 From the Void
The northern end of the Shurima region.
The Sun Empire has demonstrated its powerful ruling power, bringing life back to the land and people of Shurima. The northernmost town called Zoran was naturally included in the rule.
Zoran Town is not big, with about two hundred lives gathered around a lake of turbid water and a touch of green shade. Occasionally, some fruits will grow in the green shade for people to pick.
The sky is a deep blue, and the sun is sinking in the west like a copper plate. The sand dunes ripple in the heat, as if something is surging underground. In the heart of the desert, where the sand-lurking beasts pass, they will leave collapsed gullies. But the floating sand on the surface of the bedrock in this area is too shallow for them to move, so it is rare to see them spraying sand when they breathe on the road.
A cool breeze swept across the street in a mess, raising the dust on the stone slabs. There was an indescribable strange smell in the wind, like rotten meat or sour milk, and it felt like some beast had died nearby.
The reason why no one cares about this place is partly because the area is full of rocks and is not suitable for living, but there are many signs that the land here was once fertile, with large tracts of arable land and pastures.
In fact, this is not the lifeless wasteland in mind. There are vibrant animal and plant populations here, some of which are very dangerous, while others are completely harmless.
Fortunately, this place is not threatened by predators or bandits, partly because of its remote location, and partly, according to the elder stonemasons, because of the favor of a god. She protects people and will restore the glory of Shurima one day.
This is Zoran, the famous stonemason city of Shurima. Most of the craftsmen who built the Temple of the Sun were found here. Their homes are all carefully carved. After all, this is a group of stonemasons. Each house is built by the craftsmen who live in it. Not only is it unique, but it also reflects the personality and style of each craftsman.
A wide river extends from the gravel belt below the cliff, passes through the center of the town, and then disappears under the yellow sand of Koharise. The riverbed is covered with sharp stones and yellow sand. It is said that the river once flowed abundantly.
The vertical cliff is like a huge piece of stone. The ochre-red cliff is eroded by wind and sand, like layers of blades. Some of the protrusions were flattened by the stonemasons in the past and became canvases for their creations, while others were kept as they were to protect their works from the wind and sand.
Yes, works. There is also a magnificent statue made by stonemasons in the ancient Shurima period. Although it looks dilapidated, it is still magnificent.
It is about three hundred yards from the collapsed feet to the broken neck. It has been unattended for hundreds of years and has experienced vicissitudes. If the travelers who passed by only stared at the movement in the sky, they might not even notice that there is a stone sculpture here.
Sand has smoothed the detailed folds of her robe, and a long-ago rockfall has shattered a section of her sleeves, which would otherwise have made her outstretched arms look like wings.
Most distressingly, the face of the statue has long since been completely flattened, leaving only an ancient scar that makes it impossible to know what the god-warrior actually looked like. This ancient Shuriman hero has remained faceless for countless centuries.
On this day, the stonemasons of Zoran gathered to discuss how to reshape the face of the faceless god. Legend has it that when they restore the statue of the faceless god, the river will be filled with water again.
In the book of an elder stonemason, there is a time-faded picture of clear water cascading from the top of a cliff, forming two elegant arcs in the air, sliding down the sides of the statue. In that picture, the lake in the center of the town is as rich as a full moon and as clear as a dome, stretching out into the distance and narrowing, finally becoming a river rushing into the land of Shurima. Everyone hoped that if they could see Zolani’s true face, the river would flow again.
As the stonemasons worked on the statue, they finished the collar, creating deeper folds so that the angle of light could be used to create undulating shadows on the ground. It was a visual trick, a trick that an old stonemason had come up with.
The statue was only missing the face, but Zolan’s stonemasons could not agree on what it should look like. The painting with the waterfall was their only reference, but Zolani’s face was obscured by mist and difficult to recognize. Every stonemason in the village tried to find out what she looked like, through dreams, drunkenness, or prayer, but they could never reach a consensus.
That day, the head stonemason Noria showed a scroll with a charcoal sketch of a face that no one could match, a perfect blend of divinity and grandeur. His eyes were half-open and half-closed, and his gaze was deep and wise, revealing infinite compassion, while also incorporating the fierce murderous aura that every god warrior was born with.
That night, Noria discovered that the lake in the center of the town had disappeared. The water level of the lake would rise and fall with the seasons, but it had never dried up. Now the water had completely disappeared, leaving only an empty basin covered with gravel. A strange spiral pattern appeared on the exposed lakeshore and lakebed, as if the lake water had sunk into the mud and then disappeared.
You should feel a hand of wet and soft mud on the edge of the riverbed, but the fingertips feel hard and smooth glass, like clay fired in a brick kiln.
The lake bottom was flat, with many rubbles scattered around, all thrown down by the craftsmen. There were many faces here. Some were half buried in the glazed riverbed, some were cracked from forehead to chin, and some seemed to be squeezed out from the bottom of the lake. The expressions on those faces were terrifying and weird, and they all grinned and twisted in pain.
Noria found a long and flat stone slab in the center of the lake, which looked like a mask for a giant from a distance. Under the moonlight, the surface of the stone slab looked like exquisite ceramics. The handsome face carved on the stone made people forget to breathe. It not only incorporated a spirit beyond human, but also was full of kind wisdom, which was a long-lost style.
At this moment, the bottom of the lake cracked, and Noria hurried to the shore. A pale, spindle-thick limb emerged from the hole in the center of the riverbed, followed by another limb of the same kind, and then two limbs supported a pulsating, segmented body, and something climbed up.
Its body was about the size of a hound, and its maggot-like body was cone-shaped, with a shiny wet surface. The surface of its head was rippled, and many black spheres floated out. At the same time, its skin cracked, and a large round mouth broke through the lips, with a circle of long teeth in the mouth. Black juice flowed out of the mouth.
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Another monster emerged from the ground. Its body was like a giant insect, and its appearance was as terrible as the first one. Its sword-like limbs, salivating long teeth and chitinous shell were strangely combined together. More monsters continued to appear behind.
The entire lake bed was filled with those terrible monsters, and there were now hundreds of them. They gathered together, things without eyes and brains, floating to the surface like bubbles of boiling water, shouting and spitting. Dozens of monsters emerged from the increasingly large pit every second.
"Run! There are monsters!" Noria screamed in panic and ran towards the town, and some monsters seemed to have heard the noise and attacked the stonemason.
Boom!
A spear flew over and nailed the insect-shaped monster closest to Noria to the ground. Noria saw a group of warriors wearing uniform sun-patterned armor, holding weapons and completely blocking this place.
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