Translator: SumTLMan
A voice resonated from the antiquity, rich in layers of long-forgotten tales. Its archaic notes seemed to transport everyone momentarily back to the primordial era, making them taste the breath of the ancient world.
By the time they gathered their bearings, they discovered an unexpected silhouette had materialized beside the gnarled tree.
A ‘being’ enrobed in a grey robe, standing somewhat taller than an average human. To use Angel as a yardstick, the figure would approximately match his rib cage in height.
The figure, leaning on a staff of bone and donning a mask of primitive design, oozed an uncanny sense of simplicity yet embodied an air of bygone complexity.
Upon laying his eyes on the figure, the inner ‘call’ that Angel had been feeling abruptly vanished. This stirred curiosity within Angel.
“Are you the one speaking? Who are you?” Angel turned his gaze to the mask, inquiring in a resolute tone.
“I am the last of the Cold Ancients, once on the brink of oblivion, but saved from the grasp of extinction by your honorable intervention. You may address me as Vaudeurs, savior.” After these words escaped from behind the mask, a deep bow was extended in Angel’s direction.
Vaudeurs’s voice seemed laced with a warm aura, his actions radiated benevolence, evoking a feeling of heartfelt affinity within Angel.
“I had a persistent feeling… someone was beckoning me… Did you orchestrate that? And this savior you speak of, are you referring to me?” Angel’s countenance remained impassive as he posed his questions. Despite the sense of familiarity, his vigilance was enhanced, rather than compromised.
“Indeed, it was I who guided you, the savior, here,” admitted Vaudeurs, his gaze lowered. “Bound to the Land of Darkness, I could only summon you through the collective consciousness of the continent.”
“And why do you label me as the savior?”
“You bestowed the power of the True Spirit to the original Tan Continent, sparking its rebirth from the brink of devastation. You didn’t just save this land, but also me,” he declared.
Angel’s brow furrowed. It was not surprising that Vaudeurs was aware of him releasing the True Spirit power into the continent, but his claim that Angel had saved him puzzled Angel.
“I am aware of your intentions. The gateway out of the Tan Continent lies in the Land of Darkness. You may follow me.” With these words, Vaudeurs suddenly ripped a gaping, inky rift in the fabric of space, taking the lead in entering.
The entrance to the rift, endlessly morphing, mirrored the gaping maw of a terrifying beast from the void, instilling a sense of dread.
“Should we venture in?” A tremulous query emerged from Greaves.
Angel glanced at Popoca, who shook her head, “I cannot discern if it’s benign or malign, but my previous Lucky Decision spell suggests that this journey should pose no threat. However, a being capable of tearing space at will could likely also tamper with or even alter the results of the Lucky Decision spell.”
Popoca placed both possibilities before Angel.
What lay ahead remained a mystery, with the present available information insufficient to lift the veil of uncertainty.
So, to enter or not was left to their instinctual decision.
After a moment’s contemplation, Angel asserted, “We proceed.”
As Popoca has put it, a being capable of casually tearing through space needn’t contrive so convoluted a scheme to annihilate them. Moreover, this individual named Vaudeurs has hit the nail on the head regarding their intentions.
It suggests that Vaudeurs may have been watching their every move all along.
Wasn’t Angel’s long, arduous journey all about leaving this continent?
Convenience can’t be achieved by standing still; it necessitates facing the unforeseen risks.
Upon considering this, Angel stepped forward into the spatial rift, Popoca followed suit, and after some hesitation, Greaves clutched Olucia’s soul and joined them.
…
They found themselves in an utterly dark wasteland.
It differed little from the outside world, save for a more gloomy atmosphere and a conspicuous absence of rain.
The air held a dampness to it, occasionally punctuated by winds that carried a bone-chilling cold.
Vaudeurs, standing straight ahead, upon noticing Angel, stretched out his bony hand, gesturing toward the distance, “Savior, please, this way.”
As he spoke, he took the lead, guiding them further.
At some point, a broken lantern had appeared in Vaudeurs’ hand, its dim light barely illuminating two or three meters around them, casting an eerie calm on their surroundings.
“You don’t need to keep addressing me as ‘savior’. My name is Angel.”
Vaudeurs paused for a moment and then continued walking, “The Abyss is home to many ancient beings, knowing your name alone would give them enough to endlessly entangle you. Hence, it’s better not to reveal your true name.”
Vaudeurs’ pace was unhurried, his tone soothing, giving the group a sense of comfort.
Angel was keen to inquire further on the matter, hoping to gather more information. However, a mournful whimper echoed from the darkness, interrupting him.
Angel turned towards the sound, only to see a green luminescent phantom slowly emerge from the darkness.
It was a woman dressed in a blood-red gown.
However, her face was marred by bulging veins, her eyes were eerily white, and her expression was utterly horrifying. The moment she saw them, she changed from crying into her hands to a shrill, ear-piercing scream.
Terrifying waves of energy, accompanied by chilling winds, assaulted them!
“A Banshee’s Wail?!” Angel’s expression shifted as his eyes lit up. Due to his Nightmare Body, he had some immunity to attacks from ghosts, but Popoca behind him was now little different from an ordinary person and was vulnerable to the ghost’s onslaught.
Angel’s immediate thought was to use the ‘domain’ green rune to shield them from the incoming waves.
But before he could activate his rune, Vaudeurs, holding a bone scepter by his side, tapped the ground gently.
A crisp sound echoed, and the surrounding energy waves vanished instantly… The ghost in the blood-red gown, crying out in anguish, was swept away by an unexpected gust of wind into the depths of the dark wilderness.
As the ghostly apparition of the woman vanished, the aura emanating from Angel began to gently fade. His bangs fell back over his right eye, obscuring it from view.
Vaudeurs observed the fleeting glimmer of green, a faint ripple flashing deep within his eyes.
Once calm had settled, wariness and caution were clearly visible in Angel’s gaze as he watched Vaudeurs.
Vaudeurs appeared indifferent, his voice soft, “That ghost… she’s been lingering in the barren darkness. Kurland had tried to guide her away several times, but I had always refused.”
“Because she was my wife in her lifetime.”
This unexpected revelation left Angel stunned. His heightened caution towards Vaudeurs had been triggered by the all-too-convenient appearance of the ghost. Given Vaudeurs’s capability to tear through space, dealing with a ghost should be simple. Yet, he allowed the ghost to appear, prompting Angel to question if this was an intentional act by Vaudeurs.
But once Vaudeurs disclosed his relation to the ghost, a probable explanation surfaced.
“My wife, as she neared death, never told me. She secretly pledged an oath to an Elder, wishing to stay by my side forever. But an Elder would not grant her wish lightly. In the end, she was transformed into a ghost, forever wandering this desolate darkness.”
Vaudeurs explained the ghost’s backstory, though there were likely more intricate details he chose not to divulge.
Angel wasn’t certain of the veracity of Vaudeurs’s words, yet he didn’t believe Vaudeurs had any reason to lie.
At that moment, Greaves broke the silence, “Is the ghost lady’s name, Naya?”
Angel turned towards Greaves, “You know her?”
Greaves replied, “Lady Olucia visited the Cruel Scholar once, and I accompanied her. I spent those years in the library there. Steward Tantin read me many stories, one of which bore striking similarities to this…”
Greaves looked towards Vaudeurs, confusion lurking in his eyes.
“The Cruel Scholar recorded this event? That makes sense… after all, the Demon God of Evil Desires, who signed the pact with Naya, is said to have a good relationship with the Cruel Scholar.” Vaudeurs paused, “Yes, my wife’s name was Naya.”
Although he had made a guess, Greaves’s pupils involuntarily constricted when Vaudeurs confirmed it.
Greaves could not recall the exact time of the story, but he was sure that it happened before the fall of the old gods.
Which meant——
“You are one of the Elders, aren’t you?”
Vaudeurs did not immediately respond, instead he carried his lone lantern, turning his head to continue his journey into the obscure unknown.
An eternity seemed to pass before Vaudeurs finally spoke, “My survival is due to an inseparable bond formed with this continent. As the continent thrives, so do I; as it perishes, so do I. In reality, I am nothing but a desiccated consciousness lingering in the present, devoid of freedom and devoid of the right to self-existence. In essence, I am not an Elder.”
Vaudeurs’ words left everyone at a loss, unsure of how to respond.
However, a few details were inferred from the nuances of his speech.
Previously, Vaudeurs had claimed that Angel had saved him. At the time, Angel had not understood his meaning, but now it seemed that Vaudeurs meant that his existence was tied to the rise and fall of the continent, providing an explanation of sorts.
After a prolonged silence, Angel broke the stillness.
“You mentioned Kurland earlier… what about him? And the meaning of this gift?” Angel caressed the black feather in his hand, sensing nothing unusual about it.
“Kurland was also born on this continent.” The first words that left Vaudeurs’ mouth were an earth-shattering revelation.
The God of Death, who was a figure of dread among both demons and natives, was born here?!
“Kurland’s origin is inextricably linked to this continent. You saved the Tan Continent, although he never mentioned it, I believe he must be grateful. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left this crow feather for you.”
“This is a crow feather?” Angel looked at the black feather in his hand.
“Correct, this crow feather embodies the law of death, a symbol of Kurland… We have arrived.”
Angel was about to inquire about the function of this black feather when Vaudeurs abruptly stopped. Pointing ahead, he said, “This is our destination.”
“The Land of Darkness.”