Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3075: The Crooked Abyss

Cattaleya’s presence was one that couldn’t be cloaked by simple cultivation tricks.

Lin Mu knew enough of body cultivation to recognize that her body didn’t just contain strength—it was strength. The way her muscles coiled and unwound when she walked, the way her feet sank just a fraction deeper into the stone, the way her shadow flickered in ways it shouldn’t.

He didn’t push. Not yet.

They were companions for the moment, and some secrets didn’t need to be unraveled at the start of a journey. He would know when the time was right.

And perhaps... she would tell him herself.

They continued moving down the canyon path, the light dimming with each step into the crooked gorges. Elyon led the group, his senses wide and sharp, flanked by Daoist Chu who had already begun setting up his tracking talismans in preparation. Meng Bai walked near Cattaleya, trying to converse, though she gave him brief, almost cryptic replies.

"What do you think we’ll find down there?" he asked, voice light, trying to sound casual.

"Something ugly," she replied, gaze focused on the abyss. "Something hungry."

"And you’re okay with that?"

"I like putting hungry things to rest."

Meng Bai laughed, a bit awkwardly, but didn’t press further.

Behind them, Lin Mu studied the way she walked.

Relaxed. Fluid. Effortless. Someone who had killed before. Many times. But also someone who wasn’t reckless.

She was a weapon wrapped in cloth, but it wasn’t just her skill that made her dangerous—it was her self-control.

The chasm yawned wider before them as they reached the edge of the Crooked Abyss proper.

Here, the air itself seemed warped.

The very qi felt thick, tinged with something metallic and bitter. A constant, low hum echoed from somewhere deep beneath the earth, like the beating heart of a giant dying beast. Strange rock formations jutted out like broken bones, and eerie blue moss lit their path in irregular patches.

"Stay sharp," Daoist Chu warned.

"This place smells like rotting ruins," Elyon muttered, eyes scanning every ripple in the mist.

Cattaleya merely rolled her shoulders and drew out a black greatblade from her ring. It was clear she was a woman of many talents, and the slingshot or throwing daggers weren’t the only weapons she could use.

The Greatblade was wide and heavy, the edge dulled by design—but one look at the faint runes etched into its spine told Lin Mu it didn’t need to be sharp to kill.

"Let’s see what ghosts live in the dark," she muttered.

And with that, the group stepped deeper into the abyss, blades drawn, eyes watchful, and secrets—both new and old—walking beside them.

Their descent into the Crooked Abyss was long and silent.

Though the moss growing on the jagged walls emitted an eerie blue-green glow, none of them relied on it. Elyon’s eyes cut through the gloom as easily as daylight, his gaze flickering from stone to crevice to ripple in the air.

Lin Mu, walking a few paces behind, conjured a mote of pale golden flame with a flick of his fingers. It hovered near his shoulder, casting a soft, steady radiance that painted their faces in amber hues. The flame gave off no heat, no smoke—only clarity.

The others followed in stride.

Meng Bai was quiet, his grip on his spear firm but calm. Cattaleya, her large greatblade resting on her back again, moved with silent ease, her boots crunching lightly against gravel and strange black growths along the walls. Daoist Chu took the rear, eyes scanning the tunnels as they spiraled ever downward, deeper into the scarred heart of the land.

The Crooked Abyss was more than a canyon. It was a wound. A place carved into the bones of the world, descending into unnatural depths that no natural fault should reach. It was said to be created by a forgotten war between ascendants. Others whispered that it was the burial pit of a God, whose corpse still twisted the earth with madness.

Regardless of the tale, the truth was clear:

It was deep.It was dark.And it was not dead.

They walked in silence for hours, the temperature dropping subtly with each thousand meters, the qi in the air growing thick and sluggish like syrup. They passed formations etched into the walls—old, worn ones, now cracked and broken. Signs of attempts to seal it, to bind it, or perhaps contain what once lay within.

But those seals had long failed.

Finally, they reached a great circular platform—or rather, the remnants of one.

It jutted out from the rocky path like the edge of a sunken temple, its stone pockmarked and broken in places. And directly before them, like the surface of a glass lake, shimmered a barrier.

It was nearly invisible to the naked eye, but to those with senses honed by cultivation, it rippled like the surface of a dream.

Daoist Chu narrowed his eyes and reached out slowly, stopping just before touching it.

Lin Mu stood beside him, watching the barrier carefully.

"It’s complex," Daoist Chu murmured, his immortal sense brushing along the surface. "Layered. Several interwoven types. This isn’t just meant to keep people out—it’s hiding what’s inside completely."

Lin Mu nodded. "And if we touch the wrong layer, it’ll let someone know."

"There are alarm formations embedded beneath the main shell," Daoist Chu confirmed, squinting. "Whoever built this knew what they were doing."

Meng Bai approached, peering curiously over their shoulders.

"Can’t you just punch through it?" he asked Lin Mu. "Like the other formations you’ve broken before? Or just bypass it somehow?"

Lin Mu gave a small shake of his head.

"I can," he said. "But if I do, I’ll trip the detection array. We don’t know what kind of response is tied to that. Worst case? They kill the hostages to erase evidence and teleport out."

He turned his gaze downward, his eyes gleaming with faint golden light. "And I don’t sense any long-distance teleportation array we could hijack, at least not from this far. Which means, if they escape—or worse, we’re caught in a trap—we have no guarantee we’ll get out either."