Three hundred and one. We are the offerings.

The oil lamp that barged into the cellar disturbed the pervasive darkness, scattering it as it fled to hide at the edges of the light, forming an abyss-like gloom.

The oil lamp could only illuminate a small area.

Unable to make any noise, Lu Li seemed to have no choice but to go down himself.

Lu Li withdrew his arm, and the darkness swarmed back, reclaiming the cellar. But then, he hoisted the oil lamp onto his wrist, turned around, shared a brief look with Jojo, and stepped onto the cellar ladder.

Jojo started to speak, then remembered they couldn't talk and covered her mouth with her hand.

Lu Li descended step by step into darkness, the feeble glow of the oil lamp only able to protect his upper body, with everything below his waist shrouded in obscurity.

Crack—

Suddenly, a sound of wood snapping echoed, and Lu Li's steadily descending figure abruptly slid down, his arm catching on the wooden ladder to prevent him from falling.