As the group made their way down the left fork, they soon felt the path grow steeper. After a dozen or so paces, the ground beneath their feet gave way to rough, hand-carved stone steps.
Signs of artificial reinforcement began to appear on the cave walls on both sides. At regular intervals, wooden pillars were embedded into the rock, with iron lantern brackets hanging from them.
As they ventured deeper, the air grew increasingly dry and warm, in stark contrast to the damp chill of the entrance, and the burnt smell became stronger.
Roger kept his Scout's Eye active, maintaining a bird's-eye view. In his consciousness, the passage suddenly widened into a chamber about a dozen paces ahead.
Steinbeck seemed to sense this as well. He gestured for them to halt, and the four of them stopped in unison.
He held the glowing crystal forward. Its blue-white light barely reached the edge of the steps ahead, offering a faint glimpse of a relatively open space, though the details remained shrouded in darkness.
He changed his hand signal, gesturing for everyone to slow down and keep quiet before resuming their advance.
As they stepped off the last few stone steps, the passage opened up before them.
Before them lay a chamber that had been artificially widened, its size roughly equivalent to a medium-sized military tent.
Several recessed alcoves were carved into the chamber walls. Inside them sat half-burned candles and a few used clay crucibles, with a layer of dried, dark purple residue clinging to the bottoms of the vessels.
Right in the center of the chamber was a long workbench, its surface cluttered with various alchemy apparatuses. On the ground sat several woven wicker baskets filled with chunks of minerals and bundles of dried herbs.
Roger stepped forward and inspected the herbs and minerals one by one.
The system feedback indicated that the composition of these minerals and herbs was highly consistent with the raw materials of the purple crystals—precisely the “common minerals and herbs” mentioned in the previous identification of the Purple Embers.
Next to the workbench stood a cylindrical furnace. Its design was identical to the ones they had seen in the forest cave, but it was larger, more complex in structure, and still contained traces of purple ash inside.
“Looks like we found the right place,” Steinbeck said, scanning the entire chamber. His expression was even more serious than when they had first entered the cave.
“This isn't just a temporary camp. They've been working here for quite some time. This furnace and workbench alone are enough for an alchemist and two or three apprentices to keep production running for weeks.”
Lana walked around the workbench while sketching her map, marking every noteworthy item with simple symbols on her draft.
When she reached the other end of the workbench, her steps suddenly halted. Her charcoal pencil hovered in midair as she stared at a section of the cave wall, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Over here,” she said, pointing at the wall.
On the soot-blackened rock wall was a carved symbol, mostly covered in grime. Lana pulled a waterskin from her waist, poured a few drops of water onto her fingertips, and carefully wiped the soot away.
As the soot was cleared, a complete design was revealed.
It was a circular emblem composed of multiple twisting, intertwined lines. The pattern matched the markings found on the goblins perfectly.
Unlike those crude and simple markings, however, this emblem was finely carved. Traces of dark purple pigment still lingered in the intersections of the lines, indicating it had been filled with dye after being carved.
Roger stepped forward, and the system's identification popped up in his vision:
【Emblem of the Purple Sun Sect. Usually carved at the entrance of locations occupied by the sect for long periods. It serves both as a territorial marker and a warning mechanism. When non-sect members enter the area marked by this emblem, the caster who carved it will sense the intrusion within a certain distance.】
Roger relayed his discovery to the others. Steinbeck immediately looked up and scanned the entire chamber again, as if re-evaluating the space for any other hidden traps or alarm spells.
Lana quickly recorded the emblem's location and shape on her map, her movements more hurried than before.
After confirming there was only this emblem in the chamber, Steinbeck gestured toward the workbench with his chin:
“If that caster is still within sensing range, we might have already been discovered. Check all the documents we can take with us and see if there's anything useful.”
Roger and Irene walked over to the workbench and began inspecting the items scattered across its surface one by one.
Most of the items were standard consumables for alchemy, but nestled between a pile of crucibles and mortars, Irene found a stack of parchment tied together with thin hemp rope.
The pages were densely packed with writing. Although written in the Common Tongue, the wording was laced with heavy alchemy terminology and abbreviated symbols she couldn't decipher.
The top page was a report resembling an experimental log, recording various test data.
“Batch Seven: Dose doubled. Potency increased, but stability decreased. Subject's time to lose sanity halved.”
“Batch Nine: Switched to high-concentration mineral extraction. Side effects reduced, but finished product is still unsuitable for High-Rank use.”
“Batch Eleven: Approaching target. The sample sent by High Priestess Sephira provided a new direction.”
Steinbeck took the sheets of parchment and quickly scanned them from beginning to end, his expression turning increasingly grim.
“This confirms it. The cultists aren't the goblins' subordinates; the goblins are the cultists' tools. They're using the goblins here to test the effects of the enhancers, then distributing the tested products to the outer goblins.”
“As for this ‘High Priestess Sephira’... I've never heard of her. But for someone to direct a group of cultists to pull off so much in this godsforsaken ravine, her rank must be exceptionally high. We need to bring this name back to camp.”
“There's more here,” Roger said, pulling out a separate sheet of parchment.
The general content of the parchment was an instruction demanding that the leader of this stronghold speed up progress and complete the final refining as quickly as possible.
One line on it caught Roger's attention:
“The container is prepared, awaiting filling.”
The last line was a brief command:
“Evacuate once completed, leave no traces.”
Steinbeck leaned in to take a look, his brow furrowing even tighter. “Container? What container? Filling it with what?”
He looked up, his eyes scanning the chamber as if searching for some large receptacle that could be called a “container,” but there was nothing of the sort here.
Just then, footsteps echoed from the entrance of the chamber.
Roger drew his Windwood Bow, an arrow already notched on the string, as he slipped into a concealed corner and crouched down.
The other three silently readied their weapons, taking positions on either side of the entrance in unspoken agreement.
A moment later, the Scout's Eye outlined a moving humanoid figure in Roger's mind.
The figure was carrying a stack of parchment and various jars and bottles, completely unarmed.
Judging by the steady rhythm of the footsteps, the newcomer was entirely unaware that they were walking straight into an ambush.
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