Duan Rong walked in between Wang Yue and Lu Geng, gazing forward, only to see an endless darkness at the end of the corridor.
Duan Rong sighed lightly, thinking this journey would be long.
But after walking merely a few hundred meters, they reached the corridor's end.
At the end of the corridor, they turned into a certain place.
This stone chamber was surprisingly spacious, with a high ceiling, giving an instant feeling of openness upon entering.
Most astonishingly, there was the sound of wind roaring through this space, making the torch in Lu Geng's hand crackle loudly.
Duan Rong's expression tightened. How could there be the sound of wind in this confined space?
He quickly noticed something, seeing a dark fissure on the floor of the narrow stone chamber, where the wind was blowing through.
In this narrow and high space, the walls were fixed with large black iron rings at regular intervals, and on each ring, a child's arm-thick iron chain was tied.
