novelraw Chapter 272: Yes
Chapter 272: Yes
Chapter 272: Yes The black sands shifted beneath his feet as Tyrel climbed the nearest sand dune. Wrapped in a dark cloth with narrow slits for his eyes, he navigated the harsh desert climate one step at a time—moving forward with determination.
“Oh my, oh my! An Easterner—how rare.” The voice of an old man reached him from his left. He turned to see a dwarven figure riding atop a Kai’nil—a bird like Spirit Beast armed with rugged horns bigger than its obsidian beak. The turbaned figure sat on its feathered back without a saddle, guiding it up the sand dune with ease.
“How did you know I’m an Easterner?”
“Simple, really,” He steered the Spirit Beast in his direction. “The way you wrap your headscarf isn’t how us natives do it. You left the gap too big for your eyes.”
Tyrel took another step before answering, “I left it like that on purpose. Killing people is hard without being able to see.”
“Killing, huh?...” The dwarf combed his beard while scrutinizing the shadowy figure wrapped in loose robes. “Well, that is true to a degree… Though, you don’t seem like the type who relies on their eyes.”
He walked up the dune without saying a word.
“Tell me, stranger. What brings you to Death’s Eye? Not many dare to venture this far into the Eclipse Moor. And believe me when I say this, the Sand Dragons are the least of your worries. Slave caravan brigades pass by here all the time too…”
The echoes of their steps continued for a while until he replied. “I need to make it to the Wealth Pit.”
“The Wealth Pit?!” The dwarven rider was surprised. “I didn’t think you were also a believer in the Gold Giver! O’ Brilliance!” His smile widened, “How pious of you—to think you would travel this far to reach the true mecca of our faith!”
Seeing his enthusiasm, Tyrel found no need to correct him. Eastern and Western divisions between the believers of the Gold Giver were highly common, so him being a pilgrim from the East that tries to conform to the Westerner’s beliefs was a valuable cover. He could use it to hide amongst them.
Of course, his journey to the Wealth Pit was anything but pious. His true goal was to rendezvous with the Black Knives Guild to assassinate one of Darkshrine Castle’s most important ministers: Therdram Hopp.
As an actual pious believer of He Who Weighs the Scales, Therdram rarely skips out on making pilgrimages to the holy sight. He would usually bring an entire caravan of Phantasms with him wherever he went, which is why no one has ever dared to attack them, despite their frequent travels through Death’s Eye.
“This weather is truly strange today,” the dwarven man glanced up at the clouded skies rumbling with thunder. “In my 50 years as a Black Sand Tracer, I’ve never seen clouds this heavy before…”
Tyrel kept his persona of being a person who doesn’t speak frequently. The monotonous steps they took slowly drowned the rest of the conversations the old man tried to start, until finally, they reached the sand dune’s summit.
Staring into the distance, Tyrel noticed ruins half buried beneath the sands—an ancient city had indeed existed here in the past. Said to have once existed during the Age of Heresy, it remains nameless till this day. The scholars who dare to make it here never last long enough to uncover its truth. All you’ll find are grave robbers and treasure hunters—sometimes a few killers prowling the outskirts, waiting patiently for the former to “kindly” deliver their discoveries to them…
Nevertheless, he wasn’t at all concerned about any of that. His destination rested even further ahead. From the top of the sand dune, he could see the rocky boundary of the Wealth Pit—a colossal crater that’s said to have been caused by an ancient falling star.
Nowadays, it has become a place of rituals and prayer to the Gold Giver. Tyrel could see the signature fountain of gold even from this distance. A stream of coins and other treasures raining down from the heavens into the pit… As if God Himself was trying to bless the mortal plane.
“It pleases the eye no matter how many times I see it…” The dwarven rider said with a smile. “And to think other Easterners believe their Selkie Federation is a better holy sight…” He scoffed and shook his head. “Damned ignorant elites…”
Just as Tyrel was about to continue his journey forward, he and the dwarven rider noticed something odd.
The stream of treasures falling from the heavens…
It ceased…?
“Brilliant World… O’ Brilliance…” The old man’s eyes shook as he stared deeply at the mythic scene.
For the first time in one thousand, three hundred, and sixty seven years, the endless wealth descending from beyond the clouds had mysteriously come to a stop…
Amidst a sea of flames and lava, a colossal egg frozen in time, sat plainly atop a nest made of Dragonstone Mushrooms. Its presence was an enigma to many of the Vyakist monks who tended to its needs.
Standing barefoot atop a smoldering rock was a man tall in stature—his bushy eyebrows smoking from the nearby flames. His eyes, however, remained as resolute as the draconic egg itself.
Closing his hands together in prayer, he shut his eyes and said the usual chants again and again in his mind. Eventually, however, someone interrupted him.
“Teacher! Teacher Sai!”
The man clicked his tongue upon hearing the voice. “Almuu. What did I tell you last time? Leaving the temple without permission is forbidden!”
“But teacher…” The young boy reached the edge of the cliff where Sai stood in silence. He was a troublesome child no older than fifty—relatively young for a drakari.
Still wearing the orange robes for apprentice monks, Almuu kept his head low and his tail wrapped tightly, as if awaiting his punishment. He searched for the right words to say.
“Teacher, I wanted to pray with you near the Cradle of Knowledge…”
“You fool!” Sai shook his head. “It's too dangerous for you young ones to be here. Wait until you’re a proper monk!”
“I already am a proper monk!” He lashed out before correcting himself. “I mean… I’ve already memorized all the scriptures and chants for the day. Can’t I pray with you here just this once? I swear I won’t make trouble! You’ll be here with me to make sure of that.”
Sai thought about it for a bit then sighed. “Fine. The flames are a lot calmer at the moment due to the Dreamfire Lord’s absence—otherwise, I would have immediately rejected you.
“Come sit here just like you’ve been taught.”
Almuu excitedly ran toward him and did as he was told.
“Now clear your Echo of Mind of any excess thoughts. Balance your emotions and kill your sensations.”
“.....” Almuu didn’t reply as he kept his eyes closed and focused.
“Good,” the teacher nodded. “Now fill your mind with the basic scriptures.”
After a few more moments of silence, the apprentice monk suddenly awoke in surprise.
“This… This information?!” He grit his teeth in pain.
Sai grinned. “This is the true effect of the Cradle of Knowledge. As you’ve read in your earlier classes, the heat in this place exhibits an unnatural level of intelligence. It can even burn your mind if you’re not careful enough.
“Of course, I made sure to protect you enough for it to only sting. If you had tried to pray here on your own without telling me, not even the Temple Master could have saved you. You would have melted from the inside out, leaving us with only piles of ash…”
The thought made Almuu’s skin turn pale. Seeing the fear in his eyes, Sai nodded in satisfaction. He decided to probe him further on the experience.
“So, what did you learn from your prayer? What knowledge have you acquired?”
Almuu glanced at the ash-filled ground—his eyes full of hesitation. After a few seconds, he let the words slip:
“The egg… I saw the egg cracking open.”
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“What?!” Sai couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Before he could ask him further, he suddenly heard the distant howls of wyverns passing by. The flames began to heat up without warning.
Not good… Expanding his Soul Realm, Sai created a golden barrier around him and the apprentice, blocking the smoldering wind from reaching them. His eyes squinted as he glanced at the distant draconic egg resting atop a small platform surrounded in molten rock.
“This… This can’t be… Is it truly the right time?!”
Just as Almuu’s knowledge had said, the egg was truly hatching. In that moment, Sai couldn’t help but bring his hands together in prayer once more.
“O’ Dragon of Wisdom…”
“Pass the ball! Hurry!” The child yelled into the dark alley impatiently. His friend heard the call and ignored it, swiftly maneuvering the ball past the defender and kicking it into the distant wall.
“I scored!”
“James! This isn’t fair, you never pass the ball!” The child stomped his bare feet.
Hearing this, James couldn’t help but grin. “Idiot. Why would I pass it if I can score on my own?”
“We’re a team!”
“So what?! You wouldn’t have scored if I passed it to you anyway!”
“What did you say?!” He grit his teeth.
“Enough.” A deep voice echoed into the dim alley. The children turned to see an old man smoking a pipe—his wrinkles sagging like loose cloth. With the market lights to the back of him, his eyes seemed truly menacing.
“Old man… Can’t we play a bit longer?”
He shook his head. “Be grateful to the Mother of Silver for not freezing to death. The blizzards this month seem to have found themselves stuck up north—Saint Maria’s Citadel hasn’t been hit hard yet… Go back to the orphanage now or else I’ll tell the head nun to serve you mushroom stew for a month!”
“Yes sir!” They all ran out of the frigid alleyway, leaving small footprints in the snow along the way. Seeing this, the old man could only shake his head. “I wonder when the next grain shipments arrive… The delays are messing with prices.”
News regarding the Vynasians has caused massive shifts in Staterra’s political climate.
Sighing, he lifted his gaze to the night sky, a fragile hope glinting in his old eyes. The Silver-Eyed Moon was still hanging above the frozen wastes, pale and immaculate—its light gracefully cutting through the endless snowfall.
But just as he was about to say a prayer, his body suddenly froze still.
The moon… It had changed…
A vertical darkness cleaved its face from north to south—not a shadow, not a cloud, but a deliberate slit that shifted around on its own.
His breathing hitched as he took a step back in fear. His eyes couldn’t look away, noticing the surrounding silver continuing to shine. More and more screams filled the market street behind him, as everyone stared into the darkened skies in horror.
“O’ Mother of Silver…” The realization had finally dawned on the pious old man.
“The Silver-Eyed Moon! It's… It’s awakening!”
Surrounded by the cries of countless women, Mistress Solyara frowned as She leaned Her head toward the telescope’s lens. After tweaking the aperture dials some more, She finally managed to angle the colossal artefact in the right direction.
Displayed in all its brilliance was the Silver-Eyed Moon, now awakened and watching the world actively once more. Indeed, its true form was a massive eyeball all along—one that allows the Mother of Silver to spectate the world from above.
Solyara quickly realized where the Silver Eyet was looking.
“At us…” A nervous chuckle rolled out. With the cries of the Temple Sisters still echoing in Her ears, She turned toward Venessa and yelled:
“Tell them to shut up!”
“Yes, Mistress.” Venessa bowed and turned to walk away. The obedience and guilt in her expression hadn’t changed at all since that incident.
Shaking Her head, Solyara returned to observing the heavens. She focused the telescope on the other planets, noticing clear differences in their orbits as well.
“It's happening… It really is happening…” She couldn’t help but frown deeply. Glancing back at Venessa’s distant figure, Solyara yelled out new orders:
“Tell all of them to leave the Temple of the Stars now! Leave everything behind and go—hurry!”
The women all looked at Her in shock. “B-but Mistress…”
“No buts! Get out, now!”
One by one, they all left the chamber, guided by the other eldest sisters. Only Venessa stayed behind.”
“Venessa, what in the Orbits of Fate are you doing?”
She bowed her head respectfully. “I will only leave after you do.”
“Are you defying my orders?” Waves of anima surged from Her figure, slamming against Venessa like hurdling bricks. She grit her teeth and remained standing in place.
“I… I won’t abandon you…”
“Foolish child.” Solyara shook Her head. “Who said anything about abandoning me? I am responsible for this subspace, so I can only leave after everyone else does. Trust me, there’s no one here with a bigger will to live than me!”
“You… You promise?”
Solyara’s lips twitched slightly then formed a smile. “Yes, I promise. Now hurry up and leave with your sisters.”
Nodding, Venessa slowly turned around and headed for the study room’s exit. She continued to glance back every few steps—fear coating her expression.
Seeing her leave, Solyara finally sighed again. “Silly child… She really is just like you, isn’t she, Sienna?
“Seeing her sometimes makes me regret not accepting the Vessel of the Stars. If I had, perhaps the two of you could be together right now, studying magecraft in Luvinica with the other sisters…”
Her gaze lingered on Her own hands—a small, weary smile touching her lips.
“The burden you carry… It truly is too heavy for most to bear…”
Time slowed.
Soren met Mistress Sienna’s gaze and lost himself within it—the cosmos within her irises eclipsing the Astral River stretching overhead. Blood slipped from his lip as he clenched his teeth harder than he ever had before.
“I’m sorry… I’m—” his voice failed him. His vision blurred…
An invisible blade pierced her chest—gentle in motion, yet merciless in effect. His hands trembled as he gripped the sword—his expression drenched in horror. The bitterness in his eyes was unmistakable…
And yet, despite it all, Sienna still smiled. An ethereal smile more beautiful than any star.
“Silly child.” She coughed softly. “Don’t worry… It doesn’t hurt at all…”
The words lodged in his throat. He couldn’t answer. He didn’t look away.
“I… I watched your journey,” she whispered. “Through my prophetic visions. Every step of it… was indeed worth it.” Her hand rose, slow and unsteady, until her fingers brushed against his cheek.
“I am proud to be your teacher, Soren. Truly…”
Before he could grasp the warmth of her hand, a crack slowly ran across her radiant skin. Her wondrous smile splitting into jagged shards.
Soren’s eyes widened, pupils dilating in sheer terror. He wanted to say something—anything!
“Goodbye, my dear apprentice…”
The fractures raced across her form until she shattered completely. Illustrious light erupting from within… Blinding—utterly blinding, and yet… his memory continued to play back her smile over and over again.
He refused to forget it.
Soren fell through the abyss, his eyes flooded with tears. Through the blurriness of it all, he watched her brilliance flourishing beneath the greater cosmos—twinkling everlastingly like the aftermath of a supernova.
Perhaps it was true.
Perhaps she truly did become a supernova. A cradle for new stars to form.
The ushering of a new era…
“I am very pleased with this result, Mr. Traveler!” Merlin’s voice echoed in his ears. “Now then, let us begin the second phase!”
In the distance, he grasped the presence of nine bright lights, all of them shining in Sienna’s former presence.
The Hollowed Star fragments…
A silhouette appeared above the scene, her small wings unfurled across the cosmic skies.
“Cassia.” His voice died upon uttering the name.
As he fell deeper and deeper into the chasm, he noticed her hand reaching for the nine stars, as if to try and influence them. No doubt, the Holy Shrine Maiden was finally about to fulfill her role—just as he had fulfilled his.
The ritual question… It finally had an answer.
An answer he understood—but one he could not welcome.
Despair settled in his chest. Even from this distance, he could see the tears running down Cassia’s cheeks. Indeed, she too was suffering. No illusion Merlin could conceive will ever be able to suspend that anguish.
Her hollow eyes trembled in the radiance of the light.
“You’ve truly underestimated everything, Merlin the Magician.”
A deep, whispering voice reached him from the depths of the abyss. Soren’s eyes widened as he turned around, watching the darkness unfold around him.
There was no questioning it.
That voice—he immediately recognized it.
“Guntharion!”
Intense laughter tore through the surrounding void. “Finally, you’ve shown yourself!” The Whispering Dream’s voice sliced through the abyss. “I’ve been waiting!”