Chapter 18

Chapter 18

As they passed through rows of low, cluttered shacks and garbage heaps, the deeper they went, the more desolate and secluded the surroundings became.

Arnold walked silently ahead, rarely slowing to observe his surroundings, clearly very familiar with this path.

"This area looks quite barren, not even a mouse in sight. Do you come here often?" Lou Guanyue commented casually as he surveyed the area.

Arnold shook the cloth bag he was carrying, half-turning. "Yes, I usually gather herbs outside the city. That day, I happened to see the three elves you mentioned. I'm sure it was three elves. Although I couldn't see their faces clearly, their attire and demeanor were utterly out of place among the West District's poor, so I kept an eye on them and followed."

Keeping an eye on the path, he responded humorously, "No one could confuse an elf with a vagrant. They're hardly ever spoken of together. Given the elves' proud nature, they wouldn't deign to give alms."

As they spoke, the trio followed a remote, narrow side path, skirted a foul-smelling ditch, and arrived at the woods behind.

Pelan saw a dilapidated, abandoned cemetery, with the sound of rushing water not far away.

Here, walls had collapsed and everything was in ruins, filled with a sense of decay brought by time. Withered weeds lay fallen everywhere, and tombstones half-buried in black soil tilted at various eerie angles.

"This cemetery has been abandoned for nearly twenty years. Usually, almost no one comes here, but a patch of Night Fragrance Herb grows here. It's an herb unique to the Popavo Mountains and has excellent calming effects." As Arnold spoke, he pointed to a flat area not far away, where a vast sea of yellow flowers grew.

Night Fragrance Herb?

Just as Pelan was about to go take a look at this patch of Night Fragrance Herb, he heard Arnold continue, "I was here gathering herbs at the time, and those three elves were right by the cliff face opposite. Hearing voices, I just glanced up from a distance without approaching. They stood there for a moment and then suddenly vanished."

Intrigued, he walked over to where Arnold pointed.

The steep cliff face was covered in various peculiar symbols, with a few scattered magic threads made of special materials.

This seemed to be a miniature magic circle. Magical patterns were still visible on the rock wall, specially treated materials emitted a faint green glow in the darkness, with moss growing in some places.

The marks weren't from just the past few days either. Pelan could also sense a magical aura from the rock. He was certain that a teleportation magic had indeed been used here not long ago.

"Spatial teleportation..."

Could it be Sipo and the others? Was this a spatial magic formation set up by the elves to return to the Elven Forest?

It wasn't impossible, but Pelan felt something was off.

Well, elves setting up a magic circle in a cemetery... anyone would find that strange.

For a race that fervently worships life and light, they instinctively reject death.

Catching Pelan's low murmur, Lou Guanyue carefully observed the cliff face for a while, then scanned the surroundings once more before suddenly turning to ask, "Do elves like inviting humans to visit their homeland?"

Pelan's train of thought was interrupted. He was visibly taken aback for a moment, and he answered instinctively, "No, on the contrary, they are very averse to humans."

Lou Guanyue nodded thoughtfully. "Then why would this magic circle be placed in such a conspicuous location? It's as if they were afraid no one would notice it."

It seemed intentional no matter how you looked at it.

Pelan fell silent, hesitating for a good while before saying uncertainly, "Perhaps... this is a clue Sipo left for us?"

After all, magic beasts probably couldn't draw magic circles.

"That's also a possibility," Lou Guanyue mused before adding, "It seems like it might still be functional. Do you want to go take a look, Teacher?"

Pelan nodded. He wasn't in a hurry to test it; instead, he first carefully examined the magical patterns on the stone wall.

This magic circle was different from the ultra-long-distance teleportation array in the Rhine Guild. It was just an ordinary magic circle drawn with magical runes, not an alchemical product.

Throughout history, countless famous alchemists had conducted experiment after experiment in the research of spatial magic. Numerous mages and alchemists had thrown themselves into it, attempting to establish a spatial channel that could freely connect various locations, all failing without exception.

Constructing an artificial spatial channel wasn't difficult for many Grand Mages. The true challenge was how to maintain that channel. This was something neither magic nor alchemy had ever achieved.

Until thirteen years ago, a Grand Alchemist named Boren Witt successfully created the first fixed-point teleportation magic circle, constructing a safe spatial channel. This allowed ordinary people without magic to normally use ultra-long-distance teleportation arrays!

Just then, a sudden change occurred. The moss on the magic circle suddenly glowed brightly, the cliff face shook, and Pelan only had time to grab Lou Guanyue's wrist, quickly chanting a defensive spell to protect the three of them.

This was... spatial fluctuation? Someone had activated this teleportation magic circle?

The thought had just echoed in his mind when Pelan's vision plunged into darkness. He didn't know how long he was dazed, but when he opened his eyes again, he had arrived in a strange, mist-filled dense forest.

There were no sounds of insects or birds, no vitality.

More importantly, Lou Guanyue was gone!

Pelan remembered clearly grabbing his wrist before losing consciousness.

Not bothering to check his own condition first, Pelan summoned his wand, gripping it as he surveyed his surroundings to confirm the environment.

What first met his eyes were rows of withered trees and vines. No sunlight penetrated here; black mist permeated everywhere. And not far away stood an ancient castle, entirely black in color, its outer walls covered in withered plants, with many mottled patches exposed.

There was no sign of Yue anywhere around. Had they been accidentally separated during the teleportation? Was he outside, or inside the ancient castle?

Most likely outside. This mist was strange; the areas with the densest fog marked the spatial boundaries. It not only isolated this place from the outside world but also severed communication with the spirit realm.

One thing was certain: this absolutely could not be the Elven Forest!

Pelan thought calmly and objectively. Since spatial magic couldn't be used to leave, the most likely way out was probably hidden within that ancient castle.

Having made a decision, Pelan immediately summoned a puppet he had crafted.

Because he couldn't communicate with the spirit realm, he couldn't summon his undead here.

This environment was truly disadvantageous for a necromancer. But fortunately, his dimensional pocket was still usable, and it contained the alchemical puppets he had made.

A tall puppet warrior appeared beside Pelan. It was crafted from mithril and various other magical metals. Although it couldn't compare to the flesh puppets Austin made, it was more than capable of exploring the castle in his stead.

In the space, quiet except for the absence of any other sound, the puppet warrior, under Pelan's control, slowly entered the castle, which had lost its main doors.

Stone pillars had collapsed. The space within the castle hall was quite vast. No sunlight entered through the narrow windows, leaving the interior dim and gloomy.

But this didn't hinder Pelan. Through the puppet's eyes, made of special materials, he clearly saw the castle's internal structure.

It was impossible to tell how long this place had been abandoned. Moss grew on the stone bricks. He noticed that to the right, amidst the clusters of broken walls and ruins, there was a relatively intact stone staircase.

Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Pelan forced himself to calm down and continued manipulating the puppet warrior, directing it to climb up the staircase.

A splash of vivid color peeked out from the mottled wall. The puppet warrior gently wiped away some of the dust and dirt, revealing a colorful mural beneath.

This was...

Pelan's pupils contracted sharply before quickly returning to normal.

The Birth of the God.

The newborn deity emerged from a vortex of chaos, stars prostrating at the edges of His halo. Angels celebrated the god's birth. In the lower left corner of the mural, the faces of people looked up, their expressions fervent and devout as they gazed upon His form.

A very classic depiction of the Divine Birth from the Church of Light.

It seems the former owner of the castle was a devout follower of the God of Light.

Pelan averted his gaze, carefully maneuvering the puppet upward. Mid-step, his body suddenly froze.

A glaring streak of crimson suddenly appeared before his eyes.

What seeped from the stone steps wasn't water droplets—it was blood!

And it was still relatively fresh!

A black shadow materialized in his vision, its features indistinct and its form horrifying. Yet, Pelan recognized it at a glance—it was a Wraith.

Wraiths are a type of undead creature. They have no souls, cannot be controlled or commanded, and are monsters formed from resentment and malice!

This castle actually harbored a seemingly powerful Wraith.

As a necromancer, he was relatively adept at dealing with spectral monsters like Wraiths. Once the puppet warrior emerged, he would...

Just then, Pelan instinctively sensed something amiss. His heart tightened, and he quickly hid behind a large boulder, simultaneously halting the puppet.

That Wraith had actually spotted him through the puppet warrior!

"...Sacrifice, here!"

The sinister, icy voice seemed to whisper right beside his ear. Pelan shuddered violently and immediately jerked away from the boulder.

A massive shadow enveloped him.

That Wraith had actually issued forth from the ancient castle!

Above the dense forest, Lou Guanyue hovered silently in mid-air within the mist above the castle, his eyes devoid of emotion as he gazed down at Pelan below.

He mused idly, wondering if this Wraith could successfully help him resolve his troubles.

A defenseless, fragile mage, without any other assistance, should be easily torn apart by a Wraith, right?

Once the spellcaster died, the soul mark would also become ineffective, wouldn't it?

After all, when the contract was established, it wasn't specified whether the contract would remain valid if the party who imprinted the mark died early.

If only a lonely remnant of a soul remained, how much consciousness would he be able to retain?

He could study this carefully later. A faint smile curled at the corner of his lips, and he seemed to be in a rather pleasant mood.

Author's Note:

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Wishing everyone a happy Mid-Autumn Festival!~~