The way back was right in front of us, and we no longer felt tired. We grabbed the vines along the path and started climbing.
We dare not stop for a moment, lest we cause any more trouble. Leaving this deadly place as soon as possible is our only thought right now.
After climbing for a while, we probably left that high-oxygen area, and the fatigue and panting from the climb returned.
Although we were physically exhausted, we felt truly fulfilled. This proved that we had left that deadly area and the land beneath our feet was now the familiar land we knew.
This time, we didn't encounter any strange creatures blocking our way after passing through that layer of clouds. We didn't rest along the way and climbed straight to the top of the sinkhole in one go.
Looking at the sinkhole shrouded in mist, it resembles the gaping maw of a giant beast, and we are the lucky few who escaped from that maw.
Everyone was exhausted and lay down on the ground, panting heavily. I still had some sugarcane in my basket, so I divided it among two people and a monkey, and we sat down to gnaw on it.
Our throats were parched from the climb, but the sweet sugarcane juice made us feel alive again.
Before it got completely dark, we stumbled along for nearly half an hour before finally returning to the village where a warm campfire had been lit.
After so many hours, and after a brush with death, seeing the campfire flickering with orange light again, I felt it was the most beautiful scene in the world.
Just then, the people in the tribe saw us return and were about to come over to greet us.
But by this point our bodies were already severely exhausted. If it weren't for the adrenaline and our taut, unwavering willpower, we might never have made it back to the tribe.
At that moment, my mind relaxed, and the tension that had been building up was released. I felt everything go black, and like the young native and Top, I fell backward.
Then all I could hear were a lot of people talking around me, but I couldn't hear them clearly. Finally, I fell into a deep sleep and the whole world became quiet.
We were eventually carried back into the cave, a scene that terrified everyone.
Later, the high priest examined us and concluded that we were simply exhausted. He said that we would be fine after resting for two days, which put everyone at ease.
Over the next three days, we slept for a full day and night on the first day before waking up.
When we woke up, we found that every muscle in our body was sore and numb, and we couldn't walk at all. We were practically in a vegetative state.
I think this must be the aftereffect of severely overworking my body. I didn't feel anything before, but now that my body has had some rest, all the strained muscles are bursting out at this moment.
To make it easier to take care of us, the high priest specially left two people behind to take care of our food and daily life.
In this tribe where everyone has work to do, it's already quite remarkable that the high priest was able to spare two people to take care of us.
Just lying on the bed, or more specifically, on a frame made of wooden sticks, is truly torture for us. My buttocks and back are aching from the rough wooden sticks.
Although you can easily turn over, the conditions on this bed are limited. It's fine to sleep on it for one night normally, but lying in it for a long time is a real pain.
I'm starting to miss the bed in my crevice dwelling; it was so much more comfortable to sleep on than here.
Two days later, thanks to the meticulous care of the tribe, our injuries had healed considerably. Now we can walk around on our own without much trouble, though we still can't move as freely as before.
The young indigenous man who went to the sinkhole with me today was called aside by the high priest for questioning. He asked us things like where we went and how we ended up in this state.
The young native recounted in detail how he and I went to find Pat, pointing to Pat, who was dozing on the ground like a hen.
The events that had just occurred seemed to be within the High Priest's expectations. Although they were somewhat surprising, they did not attract much attention.
But after the young local recounted our experiences at the bottom of the sinkhole, he seemed to have forgotten something that wasn't very important.
The young native ran up to the high priest, who had already walked away, and babbled on and on, as if he were adding to something he had forgotten to mention—something that seemed trivial to him.
But when the high priest heard what the young native had said, I clearly saw his pupils shrink sharply, and he became quite agitated.
The high priest seemed to speak much faster than usual, and he talked with the young native for a while.
The young native was also shocked after hearing this. He watched the high priest speak, occasionally responding with a few words and nodding.
Upon hearing this, the high priest led the young native into the cave, as if to verify something. Curious, I followed to see what was going on.
At this moment, the high priest, holding a glow stick for illumination, began searching across the vast mural.
He soon stopped at a mural that looked like a tree, pointed at it, and said something to the young indigenous man.
The young native carefully examined the murals on the rock face, and after a long while, he nodded affirmatively to the high priest, indicating that he completely agreed with the high priest's views.
I then saw the mural that looked like a tree, but it couldn't really be called a tree because the proportions looked awkward.
The thing the high priest was pointing to had a significantly larger lower half than upper half. It was almost cone-shaped, with branches only branching out at the very top.
To me it looks more like a giant mushroom...
etc……
mushroom!
Thinking of this, I recalled the giant prehistoric mushroom, Protoplastrum, that I had seen at the bottom of the sinkhole before.
Looking at the things on the mural now, they are remarkably similar to the original Sagittaria sagittifolia!
After all that discussion, was it this *Gynostemma pentaphyllum* that truly astonished the High Priest? Could it be that these natives also know some inside information, or perhaps…
It's not just that the sinkhole we discovered had *Prosopa spp.*
The thought sent a chill down my spine. If it existed elsewhere, given the abnormally rapid reproduction rate of this fungus, wouldn't it quickly cover this land?
The vitality of *Protozoa* is no joke, as evidenced by its resilience in various paleontological fossil excavations.
Scientists have discovered fossils of Protosporum in various parts of the world, including the Sahara Desert, the North and South Poles, and some extreme geographical environments.
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