As the days went by, the jungle grew deeper, more mysterious, and more frightening.
The trees grew taller, their branches spreading wide to form a natural roof overhead.
Sunlight could barely reach the ground, creating an atmosphere of dim twilight all around.
The air carried a damp smell, and every step on the ground made the dry leaves crackle — sometimes, the cries of unseen birds echoed, as if warning these travellers to turn back.
When the sun tilted westward, and the colour of the sky slowly changed — from golden to orange, from orange to red —
then suddenly,
as if by some magic trick,
from behind the giant trees, an unforgettable sight appeared.
They saw—
hidden behind the trees,
a vast ruin.
That ruin was so massive, so grand, that at first sight it seemed as if it had once been the residence of ancient kings.
The piles of stone were so old, so ancient, that it felt as though they had been placed there at the very birth of the world.
Every stone bore the indelible marks of time — scars of centuries of decay — and yet, the glory of that structure, the beauty of its carvings, had not diminished in the slightest.
Old Son, who in his long life had seen countless ruins—
the fallen columns of the Moren civilisation,
the collapsed roofs of the Cog civilisation,
the secret chambers of the Morr civilisation,
and even the streets of lost cities—
was utterly astonished by what he saw.
His experienced eyes seemed to be learning to see anew.
With a voice trembling between wonder and reverence, he said:
"Ar-Rauf! What kind of architecture is this! I have never seen such craftsmanship in my life. These stones… they look as though they were not shaped by human hands, but crafted by nature itself."
At Son's words, everyone looked even more closely at the ruins.
Truly, the carvings on the stones, their arrangement, the way they fit perfectly with one another—it was all so precise that it seemed some supernatural force had built them.
Him, who had a deep passion for reading inscriptions—whose only goal in life was to unlock the secrets of ancient scripts and recover lost languages—carefully, almost as if performing a sacred ritual, touched an ancient inscription with his trembling hand.
The coldness of the stone spread from his fingertips to his heart.
He felt as if the history of a thousand years was flowing into his blood through that touch.
With awe and a trace of fear, he said:
"These writings… they are not in any language we know. It feels as though they were written by people from another world."
At Him's words, everyone felt a rush of excitement mixed with deep unease.
They realised that they were standing before something truly beyond human history—perhaps something not of this world at all.
The aged archaeologist Hon, who had seen thousands of ancient scripts in his life, now found his vast knowledge helpless before these markings.
He leaned closer to the mysterious letters, and suddenly his face twisted in inexplicable pain.
His eyes widened, as if he had seen something no human was meant to see.
In a trembling voice, like the cry of a terrified child, he said:
"When I look at these letters… it feels as though someone is speaking inside my mind. It frightens me."
Hearing Hon's words, they all understood that these inscriptions were not ordinary writings—they were something capable of influencing the human mind, something that could reach deep into one's consciousness.
Then Taf, whose experienced eyes had witnessed many strange things—
the secret chambers of ancient temples,
the abandoned grimoires of long-dead sorcerers,
and places where ordinary humans could never survive—
felt through his wisdom and instinct that something truly unnatural was happening here.
A deep solemnity came over his face, as though he had discovered a dreadful truth.
With a voice filled with a kind of spiritual gravity, as if an ancient philosopher were speaking, he said:
"What is written on these stones is not merely words. It feels like a warning—buried deep within time itself. Every symbol, before a single word is spoken, awakens within us a silent, forgotten fear."
As Taf's words drifted through the air, everyone felt as though the world around them had grown heavier.
The leaves on the trees seemed to go still, the wind slowed, even the birds' cries fell silent.
When the sun sank lower into the western sky, and the evening wind sweeping over the ruins grew colder and more mysterious, the group of nine continued their exploration deeper within.
They moved slowly toward the very heart of the ruins—where the darkness was thickest, where the shadows were so dense that even daylight could not penetrate.
With each step, they felt as though they were approaching the centre of some ancient secret, as if they were drawing near to the deepest mysteries of the earth.
And finally,
in that place—where the ancient stones formed a natural circle, where a primal chill rose from beneath the ground, where the air carried the scent of something ancient and unknown—
there, they found the path to the legendary cave.
That entrance was so well hidden that at first glance it seemed a part of nature itself.
But to those who knew, to those who searched, it became clear that it was man-made—though made by humans whose skill and knowledge far surpassed that of any age known to them.
The mouth of the cave looked as though it were the gateway to the very belly of the earth.
All around were ancient mosses, hanging vines, and that darkness—so deep it seemed that even light was afraid to enter.
Together, these created an otherworldly atmosphere.
For a long moment, the group of nine stood silently before the mouth of the cave.
Within each of them a battle raged—between the courage to go forward and the instinct to turn back.
They knew that whatever awaited them inside this cave might change their lives forever—either for good, or for ruin.
At last, under the leadership of their captain, Var Khani, gripping his spell-etched hammer tightly, they began to enter the inner chambers of the cave.
With every step, the darkness deepened, the air grew colder, and their hearts beat faster.
They felt as though they were not merely entering a cave—they were stepping into a forgotten chapter of history, one that had been sealed for a thousand years, waiting for this very moment to be opened.