Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 824 - 449: The Fourth Mysterious Godly Mist

In the deepest part of the Broken Isles, the waves here seemed to have lost their sound.

The entrance to the sea erosion cave, known as the Tranquil Eye, quietly stood between the reef walls. The entrance was narrow and vertical, its outline resembling a half-opened pupil.

Inside the cave, there was no wind. The black seawater clung to the rock walls and extended inward, as smooth as a mirror without any reflection.

The air was unnaturally still.

Just as Louis stopped in his tracks, hurried and suppressed sounds came from behind him.

"Please wait, my Lord." Weir was already blocking his path.

The Knight knelt on one knee on the slippery rock surface, raising his head to look directly at Louis.

It was a gaze mixed with fear, responsibility, and shame.

"The aura in there... is strange." His voice was hoarse, as if battling against his own instincts.

Weir clenched his teeth, the words were almost forced out from his throat: "Please allow us to accompany you. Even if it means walking in front, even if... as a meat shield."

The extraordinary knights behind him also knelt on one knee, not speaking, yet simultaneously gripping their sword hilts tightly.

Letting the Lord walk alone into the unknown abyss was in itself a dereliction of duty for them.

Louis slowly tidied his black gloves, gently smoothing out the small wrinkles on the leather with his fingertips, and smiled: "I understand your desire to stand in front, and I know you are not afraid."

Weir’s breath paused slightly.

"But the things inside are not enemies that can be resisted with will and courage." Louis continued, "It will silently invade your thoughts and make choices for you."

"If you get used by it, I must personally end you." He said this without avoiding eye contact, "That is not a price I am willing to bear."

The air remained heavy yet no longer sharp.

Louis’s gaze returned to Weir, carrying an undeniable command: "So, stay here. This is also an order and my trust in you."

"Anything living that comes out from inside..." He paused, his voice lowering, "End it."

Louis walked past Weir, his back showing no hesitation.

Only when his figure fully submerged into the darkness of the cave’s entrance did Weir swing a fist against the nearby reef with a thud.

The dull sound of impact echoed outside the cave.

Blood flowed through his fingers and dripped onto the cold rocky surface.

......

The world inside the cave seemed completely severed from the outside.

The moment Louis stepped into the cave, the light behind him felt as if it was wiped away by an invisible hand.

As he ventured deeper, the colors on the rock walls began to change.

On the originally pitch-black surfaces, extremely faint pink dots emerged, like phosphorescence embedded in the rock, resembling some sort of slow-breathing biological tissue.

It was eerily quiet here, so quiet that Louis could distinctly hear his own heartbeat.

The sound was amplified endlessly, strikingly abrupt in the silence, as if the entire cave subtly contracted with the rhythm.

The next moment, a smell assaulted him.

It was overwhelmingly sweet, thick and sticky, carrying a warmth that lulled vigilance.

Just one breath, and the body instinctively craved more, yearned to stop walking, hungered for no further thought...

But Louis’s steps didn’t hesitate, his eyes remained clear.

The Primordial Heart within him vibrated gently, isolating those components that tried to infiltrate his consciousness through smell, emotion, and instinct.

The sweetness persisted, but could no longer touch his will.

In this rotting gentleness, Louis moved toward the deeper cave like an unmelted cold iron.

About three hundred meters into the cave, the terrain suddenly opened up.

The black rock walls retreated to the sides, revealing an underground shoal formed by long-term ocean erosion.

The ground was uneven, with tiny bone fragments interspersed in the damp rocky sand, and the air echoed with a low, hollow sound.

A dozen massive stalactite pillars hung from the dome, resembling upside-down city wall supports, partitioning this space into a natural cage.

They emerged almost simultaneously from the gaps between the stone pillars and darkness.

Twelve enormous figures stepped onto the shoal, their footsteps sinking into the rock sand with a muffled thud.

Deep sea tyrant warriors, each clad in thick pink bone armor, with overlapping layers like shells stripped directly from an abyssal giant beast.

The giant axe, as large as a door, dragged on the ground, with sawtooth alchemy structures embedded on the edges, making a screeching noise as they scraped the rock.

Their muscles were knotted and bloated, their chests heaving like bellows with each breath.

Their oppressiveness was indistinguishable from that of the rampaging Balk in the past.

Behind them, four figures slowly rose.

The high-tier deep sea priests hovered in mid-air, their emaciated bodies wrapped in magic robes, with bone staffs deeply embedded into the ground.

Faint yet continuous pink-purple light lines lit up between the bone staffs, connecting them together, silently weaving a curse field covering the entire shoal.

If they were on the surface, they would be called a natural disaster.

And now, they faced only one person.

Dozens of clouded, greedy eyes simultaneously focused on Louis, carrying a cruelty, waiting for this human to show fear or attempt to retreat.

Louis didn’t halt his steps, lightly sighed, and raised his hand to draw the silver nobility decorative sword from his waist.

The sword’s blade was slender and elegant, embedded with sapphires, and its edge thin to the point of transparency.

This kind of sword should appear at banquets to adorn one’s status, not for killing.