Chapter 28: Rising Mountains and Rain, the Grand Curtain About to Rise

The world was pitch-black, seemingly devoid of a single glimmer of light; the entire expanse appeared to have shrunk down to this one corner, radiating a faint, dying glow.

The girl’s slender frame huddled there, knees pulled to her chest, hiding herself away in the shadows.

Surrounded by infinite darkness and void, she could vaguely hear layers of delusional whispers, as if she had been cast back to those days in her childhood, marked by the void-dwellers after tapping into her secret powers.

In those harrowing times, only her mother had been able to offer her any solace.

Yet, as she looked around, several corpses lay sprawled where the darkness met the dim light, their faces pressed against the cold earth.

She dared not look, nor did she need to; she knew every silhouette by heart—her father, her younger brother, her older brother...

And there was another body, half-real, half-phantasm, lying closer to the encroaching dark. The girl dared not wonder who it was. Could it be her mother?

She curled into a tight ball, feeling as if she were back in that filthy, gloomy prison, only this time, no one would suddenly appear, blood-soaked, to break her shackles.

A profound sense of isolation locked Avia away; the invisible chains were the scars of loneliness, winding and wounding, letting a deathly sorrow flow unchecked.

Just as Wang Yu had once remarked, the suspension bridge effect was real—the girl was strong, not fragile, but she was equally terrified of loss.

Having tasted the days of companionship, of not needing to worry or wander, of having someone always stand before her—that precious feeling—she dared not, and would not, lose it.

And when it truly happened, this catastrophic loneliness engulfed her completely. The pain and grief pressed in, suffocating her.

In this ethereal space, she was clearly there, yet she felt herself sinking, sinking, down into the depths of some nameless, fathomless ocean.

"Tap! Tap! Tap!" A rhythmic knocking seemed to pierce through the deathly silence, tearing jagged, bright fissures across the endless, dark wilderness.

Light from reality spilled into this ethereal world. As the cracks spread, the world began to disintegrate, crumbling from the very points where the light broke through.

The illusory world shattered, and the deathly, lonely sensation gradually receded.

The girl looked blankly at the collapsing realm, her awakening mind slowly realizing this was a dream. Was it a nightmare left behind by a mind flayer? Perhaps.

In a sense, mind flayers pursued the chaos of sentient beings, and the nightmares they left behind were equally chaotic and disordered.

In some cases, these twisted, chaotic dreams became strange and grotesque when they encountered someone with powerful inspiration.

Perhaps these chaotic, terrifying nightmares were merely premonitions of the chaos to come.

Rubbing her reddened eyes, Avia pushed herself up from her workbench. There were crystalline droplets on the wood, left behind from her fitful sleep.

An unfinished dagger lay on the table, polished to a fine finish, with intricate magical circuits etched into it using a special pigment.

Because the blade was so small, the magic runes were incredibly precise and complex, appearing dense and elaborate.

Outside, the sun was setting—a sun that looked even larger than the one in Wang Yu’s world.

The fiery red horizon looked as if it were being scorched by flames, giving off a strange, beautiful, yet unsettling feeling, as if blood itself were burning.

The "tap, tap, tap" sound from outside the window was Wang Yu striking a large tree in front of the cabin.

Even with his scabbard wrapped in cloth, he struck the tree with such force that it swayed violently, leaving deep, pitted marks on its surface.

It seemed the sound of his training had startled her from her sleep, Avia thought, watching the figure outside as he struck the trunk with methodical precision, following his sword forms.

A sense of inexplicable peace welled up from her heart, erasing the unease and panic left by the nightmare.

At least she wasn't alone, was she?

Suddenly, Avia noticed the figure stop his practice, his head tilted toward the distance.

She couldn't see his expression, but she felt a surge of emotion from Wang Yu: vigilance and caution.

What was happening? The sense of peace faded, replaced by a growing panic, fueled further by a sudden tremor in the earth.

Sounds began to reach Avia, whose senses were less acute than Wang Yu’s, a beat too late.

"Clack-clatter, snap-crunch..." Strange, clashing sounds drifted from afar. Avia couldn't see the scene from the window, but the bizarre, incessant clatter continued to pour into her ears.

What was that sound? A continuous, rhythmic clashing, with varying degrees of force, merged into a chaotic, endless tide of impact.

The sounds were loud and soft, high and low, but without exception, they all carried a hollow, void-like quality.

Avia felt as if countless skeletons were being gathered together, constantly pressing and colliding to produce this ceaseless cacophony.

Unease began to fill her; a premonition, brewing in the heart of a girl whose inspiration attribute far exceeded Wang Yu’s, whispered not of the present, but of the future.

The sound of clashing bones gave Avia a very, very bad feeling; an ominous omen hung over her like a gathering storm cloud.

She could no longer stay inside. She glanced out the window; Wang Yu was still standing with his back to her, staring into the distance.

Though he remained on guard, he still exuded a calm aura. Was this man always like this?

The girl tucked away the unfinished dagger, opened the door, and ran out of her small workshop, rushing to the side of Wang Yu, who stood by the tree.

The setting sun cast his shadow long, giving Avia a strange sensation.

"Wang Yu..." The girl wanted to say something, but Wang Yu, whose senses were far sharper than hers, had already sensed her approach.

He narrowed his eyes and pointed toward the edge of the horizon. Avia cast her gaze in that direction, and for a moment, she was struck speechless.

What was that? A colossal entity was moving along the horizon under the setting sun, its massive form crushing everything in its path—forests, rivers, even hills.

Its white shape, illuminated by the blood-red sunset, appeared incredibly eerie.

It was pieced together from countless skeletons, seemingly without pattern, yet somehow following a strange logic—human, animal, elven, goblin, even dragon.

Bones of all kinds were forcibly assembled, twisted and knotted into this unrecognizable monstrosity.

The bloated, massive body was a palace of bone, containing who knew how many skeletons. This gargantuan skeletal construct was now at the edge of the horizon.

To Avia, it looked like a colossal white bone serpent, but one so vast it resembled a mountain range.

To Wang Yu, it looked more like a bone train, carrying passengers who could never disembark, destined to be borne forever, perhaps until the end of time.

At the very front of this skeletal behemoth—if it could even be called a creature—was a massive skull.

It was so enormous that the head alone was the size of a small hill.

On the forehead of the skull was a gaping hole, and the black space within looked like a starry sky, radiating a magnificent and dangerous color. Perhaps this was the cause of the skull's original death.

It was so vast, and so powerful—what kind of creature had it been? A giant? A titan? Or perhaps, a god?

And who had killed such a powerful being, allowing this bone train to incorporate its massive head as part of itself?

The colossal skeletal entity paid no heed to its surroundings; it moved like a train, indifferent to everything in its path, heading toward a predetermined destination.

The terrifying object vanished at the edge of the horizon, leaving behind a trail of desolation. Everything it passed was crushed; a barren wasteland was the only footprint the bone train left behind.

"The war has begun..." Wang Yu murmured. His expression was unprecedentedly grave, which sent a shiver through Avia.

When he looked this serious, something momentous was bound to happen. Last time, it had been his reckless killing of Obi-Wan. What about this time?

"War? Why?" The girl still didn't understand. How could Wang Yu link this horrific thing to war?

"The Ossuary. This thing is the Ossuary, one of the oldest things on this continent. It has existed since the dawn of recorded history."

"Back then, it wasn't as massive as it is now, but that skull... that has always been the same."

Wang Yu had truly been studying these past few months; he was particularly diligent about the history of this world, memorizing as much as he could.

What he couldn't remember, he recorded in the Infinite Pages to study later. In a sense, his knowledge of such lore was now on par with Avia's.

"Some scholars believe it to be a living artifact, because its nature is just as absurdly absolute as any artifact."

"Nothing can truly harm it. Throughout history, nations have tried to block or destroy it, but they failed. Entire armies were annihilated, and every soldier and king became part of the Ossuary..."

Once, a legendary necromancer attempted to study this thing; the moment he activated his soul-sight, he descended into madness.

He roared and writhed, his body twisting as his bones tore free from his flesh to run of their own accord, the skeleton unshackled from its meat, charging into that hall of bones.

The final legacy of that necromancer was a painting—a painting of flesh, crafted with his dying strength and dark arts.

It depicted the Ossuary, a mountain of countless bones where myriad spectral figures were trapped within their own remains, screaming in despair, forever struggling.

What lay there were not just bones, but souls—souls imprisoned for eternity, which is why Wang Yu felt the thing resembled a train.

This entity is elusive, rarely sighted in history, appearing perhaps once every few centuries; no one knows where it goes when it vanishes, but its arrival is always heralded by death.

Does the Ossuary bring death? Avia asked, trembling; if such a thing could wreak havoc, what could possibly stop it? A god?

No, it comes because of death; the Ossuary itself is not dangerous, it does not attack, for the bones it bears are merely gathered.

If you strike it, it will not retaliate, but simply crush you, following its own path; it rarely appears in populated areas, and that kingdom’s fall was caused by their own army blocking its way.

It has but one purpose: to collect the bones of the dead, though no one knows why or what meaning it holds, myself included.

But since it has appeared, it means the dead must already be legion, so its arrival is inevitably accompanied by mass slaughter.

And regarding mass slaughter, what are your thoughts? Wang Yu asked, turning to Avia.

Sharp-witted and brilliant, how could Avia fail to grasp the implication of his words?

Her ominous premonition seemed confirmed, and the dread made her voice hesitant and wavering.

War has begun, and on a massive scale? Avia asked.

I believe so, Wang Yu nodded grimly; he did not like war, he truly did not.

War is like a quagmire, dragging everything into its depths, pulling them under until all is left in ruin.

Likewise, one can only wonder how many things will be drowned in this inescapable vortex.

If he could, Wang Yu would wish for this world to be peaceful, allowing him to wander at ease, to develop slowly and grow stronger.

To see more of the world, then find a powerful mage who might help him return to his own, though if that failed, he would not dwell on it.

But now, the tide of war was beyond his control; it had been nine months since he met Avia, and in three months, he would set out on his own journey.

He rolled his neck, for standing in one position too long was uncomfortable, and his eyes were stinging; the sunset was beautiful, yet blinding.

The Ossuary had vanished beyond the horizon, so there was no need to stare any longer.

Worrying is useless; action is the only truth. How to survive better? Wang Yu rubbed his chin—he must grow stronger.

Only by becoming powerful can one achieve more, prevent what one does not wish to see, and secure what one desires.

Wang Yu was not one to fret; when the carriage reaches the mountain, there will be a road. He had only to hone himself, grow stronger, and face the coming turmoil.

Avia watched as the expression on his face shifted from grim solemnity to composure, and then to a strange cheerfulness, and she could not help but pause.

Then came the familiar feeling; no matter the gravity of the situation, Wang Yu could always face it with equanimity.

Avia, when do you plan to go home? Wang Yu suddenly asked the girl beside him.

Home? The girl tasted the word, then froze for a second; yes, home—she should return to that unfamiliar place she called home.

It was neither the castle she knew, nor did it hold the people she missed, save for her mother; yet, thinking of her mother, a warmth bloomed in Avia’s heart—as long as her mother was there, it would always be home.

Two or three months, I suppose; it is time to return, the girl sighed inwardly; these past few months had been too comfortable, and she had grown fond of the ease.

These peaceful days might be among the most precious memories of her life; she wondered if she would ever feel such calm again.

But since war had begun, the turmoil in the Imperial City would only escalate, never subside.

She could no longer be a burden to her mother as she once was; she had to contribute, rather than cower in a corner as she had done before.

After all, not every time would a ghost of a man emerge, blood-soaked and terrifying, to reach out a hand to her.

I must go back to help my mother; the infighting among the nobles will only intensify.

Although our family has lost its title and fief, the wealth and resources accumulated over the years are still coveted by many.

There was a trace of worry in her voice, a dark premonition lingering in her heart that left her deeply unsettled.

Very well, I will see you home when the time comes; perhaps I can be of some help, Wang Yu said, rubbing his chin.

The "bonus" period of his physical growth would end in a few months, so he must accelerate his training and make use of every inch of time.

He moved at once, picking up the blade he had set aside, and resumed hacking at the trees before him.

Watching Wang Yu strike the wood incessantly, Avia pulled the small knife from her pocket.

The material for this blade had been polished from the special shard Wang Yu had given her.

The girl held it up to the sunlight; the sharp edge shimmered with strange colors, and the incomplete magic circuits upon it glowed faintly.

It was decided: once this magical artifact was finished, she would go home.

The mountain wind was rising; the curtain was about to lift.

(As the title suggests, the world has fully revealed its mad side; the climax of the first volume approaches—the mansion is tilting, and the great tide is rising.)