Chapter 268: Shadow Of The Toad God
Finally, he arduously crawled out of the cave. Fang Mu collapsed exhaustedly outside the cave entrance, with pitch blackness still before his eyes.
Although his body wasn’t moving, his ears were carefully listening to the commotion in the surroundings, paying attention to any anomalies around.
The world outside the cave was already chaotic and complex, full of hidden dangers. The world inside the cave was even infinitely closer to a dark hell.
Without staying vigilant, without maintaining reason, he would inevitably face the terror of madness—a process even more unbearable than death.
After resting for a while, Fang Mu still hadn’t heard any sound of something approaching. The sounds from the cave he had crawled out of seemed to have stayed at that source without moving, showing no intention of chasing after him at all.
This was very wrong!
Fang Mu suddenly sat up in shock, his eyes scanning the darkness before him, his ears straining to listen to the surroundings. However, he still heard nothing, as if there really was nothing existing around.
Supporting himself against the wall, he slowly stood up again. The wounds on his forearm and elbow emitted bursts of stinging pain during the movement; some of the stones and dust attached to the wounds were shaken off, while others were squeezed out by the straining flesh.
Fang Mu forcefully suppressed the urge to cry out, ultimately only letting out a few muffled grunts.
Cold sweat beaded on Fang Mu’s forehead. He felt that somewhere in this cave, the space was very large—vast in a way unlike any part of a passage, more like a natural stone chamber?
A faint ominous premonition arose. He no longer rested, continuing forward while supporting himself against the wall. But after just a few steps, he felt himself kick something hard.
It was somewhat like wood, but possibly harder and smoother in texture. This was most likely not any plant, because such a plant couldn’t possibly appear in this cave.
Nor could it be some kind of stone, as it was too hard and brittle, with a shape that was even more regular.
Fang Mu crouched down and reached out to feel around. Suddenly, he touched something hard and smooth, carrying a strange rotten smell. He immediately realized what it was, retreating several steps continuously, his face showing distress.
This was a corpse whose time of death was unknown, its organs and flesh and blood long gone, leaving only a pile of dry bones leaning against the wall.
Based on the feel of what seemed to be the skull earlier, these dry bones should belong to a human—a normal human, not the kind with developed limbs like those ferocious frog people, but a genuine person.
“Could it be someone from a long time ago?” Fang Mu also wanted to use the lighter to illuminate and see, but in this dark and deep space, even a tiny light would be as conspicuous as the sun, no different from sending a “come eat me” signal to the monsters hidden in the darkness. After the previous experience of being surrounded by the toad and frog people, he no longer dared to casually use lighting equipment. Therefore, for now, he could only feel the things on the corpse through touch.
He wasn’t a professional archaeologist or forensic doctor; he could only rely on his own broad but miscellaneous and shallow knowledge to infer and analyze.
The clothing on the corpse hadn’t been destroyed and disappeared along with the flesh and blood on the body. The tattered clothing had a somewhat rough texture, like the coarse cloth fabric used for ancient commoners’ clothes in the past—quality so poor that it would even be despised as a tablecloth today.
For the corpse to have dried out and developed to this state, especially in such an environment, it really couldn’t have been achieved within just a few months.
Unless… something special had caused it to accelerate into this state?
Fang Mu didn’t linger by the corpse for long. To him, the corpse held little research value; after all, he didn’t possess much professional knowledge and couldn’t analyze much from it.
Stepping over the dry bones, not long after, Fang Mu felt himself kick another bone, and soon discovered another corpse.
Next came the third, fourth, fifth… so many that they were somewhat countless, piled up like a mountain. Bones of different biological species were deformed and pieced together, jumbled into a mess.
“How could it be like this?” Fang Mu couldn’t help but feel his liver tremble. Finally, he couldn’t resist his curiosity and took out the lighter, illuminating a portion of this dark space.
Merely a portion was already enough to shock, nearly sending Fang Mu’s soul flying out of his body.
He saw dry bones piled up like a mountain—some human, some animal, and some absolutely not belonging to any currently known familiar large creatures. Those large dry bones were not only enormous in size but also had very unique shapes, inevitably making one imagine the eerie forms those bizarre corpses had in life.
Just as Fang Mu hadn’t yet recovered from the shock, he was greatly alarmed by the scene he saw next in the darkness, his face contorted in fear.
Only to see, beyond the range illuminated by the lighter’s flame, a pair of asymmetrical deep red glows appeared in the darkness—unequal in size. Before he could react, more red light spots appeared in the darkness.
The glow from those light spots was very faint, but they were dense enough. Gradually, they even illuminated the vague outline of the giant creature hidden in the darkness.
Huge and thick, possibly taller than a four- or five-story building. The outline of its body formed roughly the shape of a toad frog, only even more unreal and deformed.
Seeing it, Fang Mu felt his soul wanting to break free from this frail shell—perhaps only then could he barely cling to life a little longer.
He had already realized the identity of this colossal giant creature in the darkness: the slumberer in the dark underground, the evildoer bringing despair and panic, and also the ancient totem deity of the Guinan region—the Toad God.
At this moment, Fang Mu finally understood why the diary emphasized repeatedly, with multiple admonitions and entrustments from the old village chief, that after entering the cave, he absolutely must not open his eyes to look or perk his ears to listen, and must leave without looking back after placing the black box for offering.
Because the local people of the past truly worshiped and served a living deity. They used their own bodies, others’, or beasts from unknown places as sacrifices, offering them up annually for it to taste and enjoy.
This Toad God was not a fabrication of imagination, but truly existed.
Fang Mu fled headlong without looking back, running straight in the direction away from that outline, his brain empty, his body exerting the instinct for survival deep in his genes to the utmost.
The giant toad frog, covered in flashing red spots in the darkness, emitted a earth-shattering roar. The sound wave struck Fang Mu’s back like a mortar shell, sending him uncontrollably flying far away before crashing to the ground.
Fang Mu didn’t dare look back, nor did he dare believe it.
His enhanced ears had clearly heard the sound, yet he completely couldn’t tell where the source of the voice came from. Except by seeing it with his eyes, he simply couldn’t hear the material source of the sound—it was as if it appeared out of thin air, that outline more unreal and uncapturable than light itself.
This deity’s form of existence had already far exceeded the scope of what humans could understand.
