157,784,755
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157,784,756
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157,784,757
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157,784,758
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157,784,759
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157,784,760
Since regaining consciousness in this endless void, I've been counting the seconds in my head.
Five years have passed in this dark, boundless expanse.
The mental fortitude I once prided myself on has eroded, weakened by the state I was in. Counting has become my sole tether to reality, a monotonous rhythm to stave off complete detachment.
Days, no weeks, would slip by without a single star gracing this void. And when one did appear, it vanished almost instantly, a fleeting reminder of what lay beyond this emptiness.
I haven't encountered another existence since the moment I collapsed. But even if I had, my dulled senses likely wouldn't have registered it. My mind has grown sluggish, and perception itself feels alien.
160,378,480
...
160,378,481
...
160,378,482
A month slipped by in my counting when, for the first time in five years, I saw light.
It wasn't much at first, just a flicker, an indistinct glow moving too fast for me to make sense of it. Yet, as the moments passed, the speed at which my soul traversed the void began to slow. Shapes emerged from the blur, faint but tangible. Stars and planets.
And then, my gaze fell upon a sphere suspended in the infinite black, radiating an otherworldly presence. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. Split cleanly down the middle, it seemed to embody two opposing forces.
One half shimmered with a warm, golden glow. Swirls of amber and white danced along its surface as though the land below it breathed with life. It was a vision of vitality and tranquility, a world where time seemed to pause in reverence.
The other half was its shadowed twin, dark and foreboding. Gray and black hues consumed its surface, interrupted only by faint, silvery streams that rippled like veins across its vast expanse. The land seemed ancient, shrouded in mist.
Encircling the planet's equator was a luminous band, a shimmering veil that pulsed with soft light. Silver bled into blue, amber into gold, creating an ever-shifting bridge between the two halves. It didn't separate them, but it bound them.
The planet seemed to defy understanding. Its glowing side radiated serenity, while the shadowed half exuded an almost magnetic pull. The contrast was both awe-inspiring and unsettling, like a battle of opposites frozen in perfect balance.
I couldn't tear my gaze away. This was a challenge to everything I had previously known.
Suddenly, I felt a force pulling me toward the planet. Faster and faster, I descended, my soul, drawn inexorably to the shadowed side. The gray and black terrain rushed toward me, and before I could take in more, the ground was mere meters away.
I braced for impact, but my soul halted abruptly, hovering above the surface. The stillness lasted only a breath before something impossible began to unfold.
Threads of dark, silvery light emerged from the air itself, weaving together into shapes. Bones, sinew, and flesh began to form, spinning into existence from nothingness. A human body took shape before me.
My soul was pulled toward it, merging with the growing vessel. I couldn't resist, nor did I try. As the final threads of flesh coalesced, my consciousness collided with the form, and in that instant, the world plunged into darkness.
Silence.
And then nothing.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
"...urg." The sound escaped my lips as I stirred, my senses sluggishly returning. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I could feel, smell, hear, and see again.
If my count was accurate, and it should be, unless the void somehow tampered with my mind, five years had passed since the moment I regained consciousness in the endless starry expanse. How long I had been unconscious before that, after collapsing at ANHS, was a mystery I couldn't begin to unravel.
I pushed myself up carefully, my limbs trembling as I moved. My body felt alien, as though it had forgotten how to function after so long in that void. Every motion was awkward, unsteady, and yet, there was an odd relief in simply being able to move again.
And then, I looked ahead.
The sight before me stole the breath from my lungs.
The air was dense and heavy. A pale mist lingered over the ground, curling lazily around jagged cliffs and shadowed valleys, their outlines blurred as if painted by an unsteady hand. Shadows stretched endlessly, clinging to the terrain like living things, moving and shifting subtly with the wind.
Above me hung a sky caught in twilight. Stars flickered weakly, their dim light barely piercing the mist-laden heavens. The surrounding cliffs loomed tall and jagged, their peaks vanishing into the mists above, standing like ancient guardians of a long-forgotten land.
Strange plants grew in patches across the uneven ground, their wiry forms absorbing the faint light rather than reflecting it. Pools of dark water dotted the terrain, their surfaces mirroring the faint glow of the lights above. The silence was profound, broken only by the occasional wind brushing.
This place felt alive. It exuded a weight pressing against my senses, at once enchanting and oppressive. Time itself seemed to bend and warp here, and the boundary between reality and something otherworldly felt fragile and faint.
"Wow..." The word escaped before I could stop it. Rarely in my life had I been truly awed.
Looking toward the horizon, I caught a faint glimmer of light. A golden warmth that seemed entirely out of place in this realm of shadows. Beyond it, I saw the faint curve of what I now recognized: a luminous band stretched across the heavens, bridging the light and shadow.
This was the planet I had seen before I lost consciousness.
What shocked me even more was the body I now inhabited, seemingly formed out of thin air.
I looked down, examining myself, and the moment of recognition froze me for a moment. My body had changed. My limbs were smaller, less defined, and my frame felt unfamiliar.
My body had regressed, returning to the state it was in when I was just thirteen years old.
Beyond that, I let out a sigh and muttered, "Why am I naked..."
"Could this strange phenomenon not have also provided me with some clothes?" I muttered lowly.
I stood naked in the cold air, exposed to this alien world, unable to comprehend the supernatural forces that had brought me here. I had always dismissed the outlandish stories humans loved to tell, the ones of otherworldly realms, gods, and mystical powers. Yet here I was, living proof that such things could exist.
Why here? Why this place? Why was I brought here and how?
I shook my head. These questions were unimportant now. I could ponder them later, if survival allowed me such luxuries.
My mind snapped into its familiar rhythm, the same one drilled into me through years of training. I had no time to wallow in confusion or awe.
Food. Clothing. Shelter. Information.
These were the priorities. The foundations of survival, no matter the world. Whatever this place was, however dangerous or unfamiliar, I would adapt. I always adapted. This place could throw all its mysteries and threats at me, and I would face them the only way I knew how.
I clenched my fists, taking one steadying breath before stepping forward into the unknown. The answers would come, one way or another.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
The valley stretched endlessly, its sheer size far greater than I had anticipated. At first, my wandering was aimless, my movements cautious as I navigated the alien terrain. The ground beneath my bare feet was uneven, shifting between patches of damp earth and sharp, jagged rocks.
For hours, I pressed forward, finding nothing. No signs of wildlife. No structures. Nothing. It was as though this place had been abandoned by life itself, left to rot in eternal silence. By rough calculation, I had walked nearly twelve hours, covering over seventy kilometers despite the difficult terrain. The pace was grueling, and each step was a challenge to avoid missteps that could lead to injury. And yet, stopping was not an option.
The land offered no reprieve. As night began to fall, the mist thickened, wrapping itself around me like a suffocating shroud. The faint light from the stars above grew dimmer, swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Continuing forward in this state would be madness.
The air turned colder, its icy grip biting at my exposed skin. My breath misted in the freezing air.
I pushed onward, my gaze scanning the landscape for anything that could serve as shelter. Finally, I found a shallow overhang carved into the side of a cliff. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
I huddled beneath the overhang, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees in an effort to conserve body heat. The valley was silent, save for the faint whisper of wind through the skeletal trees.
So this is what survival feels like. Interesting. My entire life had been a test of endurance, a battle against impossible odds. Yet, I would have never imagined ending up in a situation like this.
Sleep came in fits and starts, my mind on high alert for even the faintest sound of movement. Every creak of the trees, every shift of the wind, made me alert. I was a coiled spring, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
The second day dawned with a sense of purpose. I couldn't rely on luck to find shelter again. I needed to take things into my own hands.
I woke up after seven hours of sleep, though the persistent darkness outside made it impossible to gauge time accurately. The mist still hung low over the ground. I waited, watching as it began to thin, revealing the bleak expanse of the valley once more.
"A proper shelter," I murmured aloud, my voice breaking the silence. "Something more secure. This won't last."
The memory of wandering seventy kilometers the previous day lingered in my mind. I would need to move often if I found nothing in this area. But a stable base was the first step. I couldn't keep expending energy without a reliable fallback.
My stomach growled, a sharp reminder of another pressing concern. Hunger gnawed at me. If this valley is entirely desolate... I shook my head, refusing to entertain the thought. There had to be something here. Some form of sustenance.
Once the mist began to clear, I set to work. The skeletal trees and wiry plants around me became my first resource. I gathered fallen branches, large leaves, and sharp rocks, my hands moving with a single goal. Every item I collected had a purpose in my mind, a crude lean-to against the cliffside, a shelter that would offer some protection against the elements.
It was far from elegant. The roof of leaves, woven together with thin branches, barely provided cover. The jagged rocks I arranged in a rough circle around the site were hardly a defense. But it was a start.
With the shelter complete, I turned my attention to tools. Using a thick branch and one of the sharp stones I had collected, I fashioned a spear. The process was slow, and the stone's edge was refined by striking it repeatedly against another rock until it became thin and sharp. The result was crude but functional, bound tightly to the branch with plant fibers.
I held the spear aloft, testing its weight. It felt familiar, almost natural in my hands. Memories of combat training in the White Room surfaced unbidden, the movements instinctive. Some skills never fade, I thought.
Clothing, however, was still a problem. The leaves I used to drape over myself offered minimal protection against the cold, but they were far from adequate. I would need something better and that soon.
...
With a few hours of daylight left, I decided to scour the valley for signs of life. To avoid losing my way, I marked my path with scratches on rocks and notches in tree trunks, creating a makeshift trail back to the shelter. It was a simple system, but it worked. This precaution wasn't optional, as getting lost here would almost mean certain death.
An hour into my search, I noticed faint tracks etched into the damp earth. My gaze lingered on them. These were fresh, unmistakable, and my mind quickly began to process their direction and likely source. My breathing remained steady, my movements precise and unhurried as I followed the trail.
The tracks led me to a clearing, and there, nestled in the shadows, were surprisingly large rodent-like creatures, each about 50 centimeters in length, grazing on the sparse vegetation scattered across the area. Their fur was a deep black, almost absorbing the faint light around them, and they moved with a nervous energy as if sensing the ever-present danger in their environment.
I crouched low, gripping my crude spear tightly. Years of relentless training in the White Room surged forward, guiding my actions. My movements were fluid as I stalked the creatures. My eyes analyzed their patterns, the subtle shifts in their behavior, and the gaps in their defenses.
One of the smaller beasts wandered away from the group. It paused, sniffing the air, oblivious to me, who was closing in. I shifted my weight, my muscles coiling like a spring ready to release.
Perfect.
In a single, fluid motion, I lunged forward. The spear struck, piercing the creature's side with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across my hands and face, warm and metallic. The creature shrieked in pain, its body convulsing in a desperate attempt to escape. It struggled, its limbs flailing weakly, but my second thrust ended its life.
I stared at the lifeless form, blood pooling beneath it as its final twitch faded into stillness. My expression remained unchanged. There was no place for sentiment here.
Lifting the creature onto my shoulders, I rose to my feet, ignoring the slick warmth of its blood against my skin. My gaze swept the clearing one last time, ensuring no other threats lingered nearby, before I turned back to retrace my marked trail.
The journey back to the shelter was slower, the weight of the creature slung across my shoulders adding to the strain. But I made it, just as darkness began to fall again.
Building a fire was the next challenge. Using dry leaves and twigs, I struck the rocks together repeatedly, creating small sparks that finally caught. Carefully, I fed the embers until a small flame emerged.
The warmth was immediate, a welcome reprieve from the cold. I fed the fire with larger branches, coaxing it to life.
With one of the sharp stones, I fashioned a crude knife, binding it to a short, thick branch. It wasn't sharp, but it was enough to start skinning the creature. The process was slow and laborious, the dull blade dragging against the hide. Blood pooled beneath it, the metallic scent filling the air.
"I never thought the survival books in the White Room would prove useful," I murmured, cutting the meat into smaller pieces.
By the time I finished, the knife had dulled and snapped. "It lasted longer than expected," I muttered. "Good enough for now."
Suspending the meat over the fire, I turned it carefully, ensuring it cooked evenly. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, earthy and strange, but undeniably appealing in this current situation.
Thirst clawed at me, and without a water source, I had no choice but to drink the creature's blood. The taste was bitter and metallic, but it did its job.
As I ate, the fire's warmth seeped into my skin, pushing back the chill and the encroaching shadows. When the meal was done, I extinguished the fire, wary of attracting unwanted attention.
Exhaustion settled over me as I lay back in the shelter. My mind churned with plans for the next day.
I had survived another day, but I couldn't stop here.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
The next day, as the dim twilight of the valley persisted, I awoke with a clearer goal. Clothing was my next challenge, one I couldn't ignore any longer. The chill of the valley's misty air had been an ever-present discomfort, biting at my exposed skin and sapping my energy.
The body of the creature I had skinned the previous day lay in a heap near the shelter. Its dark, wiry fur was coarse and rough, hardly ideal for garments, but it was better than nothing. Kneeling beside it, I examined the hide carefully, noting its uneven thickness and patches of dried blood. My crude knife, though barely functional, would have to suffice for shaping the material.
I began by trimming the edges of the hide, removing jagged bits that would make the garment unwieldy. My hands were steady as I worked the blade along the pelt. The process was slow, the dull blade dragging against the stubborn fur.
Once the pelt was trimmed, I turned my attention to stitching it into something wearable. Using the plant fibers I had gathered earlier, I twisted and braided them into rough threads. The threads were strong enough to hold and flexible enough to weave through the hide. For a needle, I sharpened a small bone fragment from the creature's remains.
Threading the bone needle, I began sewing. The result was far from elegant. A patchwork tunic that hung awkwardly over my frame, but it would do its job.
Satisfied with the tunic, I turned my attention to my feet. The sharp rocks and uneven ground had taken their toll, leaving my soles tender and raw. Using strips of bark from the skeletal trees and additional plant fibers, I fashioned rudimentary sandals. The bark served as a rough sole, while the fibers secured it tightly around my feet. The sandals were crude, but the relief they provided was immediate.
As I moved about my shelter, testing the flexibility of my new attire, I began to notice patterns in the valley's ever-present mist. It would thin during certain hours, retreating just enough to reveal more of the terrain. The creatures I hunted seemed to follow the rhythm, grazing in the same clearings at regular intervals. The realization was a small but crucial piece of information.
Armed with this knowledge, I set out to map the immediate area around my shelter. Using my spear, I scratched markings onto rocks and tree trunks, creating a network of landmarks to guide my movements.
The day passed quickly, and my focus was absorbed by these tasks. By the time the faint twilight began to dim further, signaling the approach of night, I had mapped a small but significant portion of the valley within my area.
Back at my shelter, I sat near the dying embers of my fire, my crude tunic and sandals offering a small reprieve from the cold. I stared into the fading light, my mind turning over the patterns I had observed and the progress I had made.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
By the end of the week, a rhythm had taken hold of my days. The routine was necessary: dismantling my shelter each morning, gathering my tools and supplies, and pressing onward through the unyielding terrain. Each evening, I would construct a new shelter in the fading twilight, always further than the last. This constant movement slowed my overall pace, but it allowed me to explore more of the valley's shadowed expanse.
My body, still adjusting to its younger form, was steadily regaining its former control. The lethargy I felt when I first arrived had all but dissipated. It wasn't perfect yet, but I could feel the gap between this body and the one honed in the White Room narrowing with every passing day.
With my foundation firmly established—Food, Shelter, and Clothing—I now turned my attention to the final and most critical priority: Information.
Information is the cornerstone of survival. It's what separates the hunter from the hunted, the victor from the vanquished. In ANHS, for example, information was power, and I could predict the outcomes and manipulate events to my advantage. In the White Room, I was trained to assess, gather, and wield information with precision. It became part of my nature.
People's personalities, their goals, their weaknesses, their desires.
The system's secret. Rules that could be bent to a certain degree.
I have studied people, studied the system, the rules, and everything I could within that closed environment. All of that information allowed me to control the situation to my liking, towards my goal.
But here? In this alien valley, in this world, the rules were different. I was no longer in a world where data could be fed to me, not yet, at least. I was alone, surrounded by the unknown, with no reliable framework to guide me. Information was no less vital, but the means of acquiring it had shifted.
Understanding where I was, what kind of world this was, and whether there was any semblance of civilization nearby was paramount. Without answers to these questions, I couldn't formulate a plan, and without a plan, my survival was meaningless.
Information is critical in every world, I reflected. In the world I left behind, it dictated everything. Businesses rose and fell by it, governments wielded it like a weapon, and lives were saved or destroyed depending on how well it was managed. In an unknown world like this, its importance is magnified tenfold. Without information, I'm operating blind.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
I paused one afternoon atop a jagged ridge, my shelter dismantled and packed neatly into the makeshift bag I had fashioned from bark and plant fibers. Below me stretched a clearing, its edges lined with skeletal trees.
In the distance, the valley seemed to narrow, the cliffs on either side drawing closer together. It was a subtle change, but it piqued my curiosity. Perhaps the narrowing signified a transition.
By this point, my explorations had revealed several key features of the valley. There were small streams that occasionally carved through the terrain, their waters shallow but clear. I had yet to find their source, but they offered a glimmer of hope.
The skeletal trees, though haunting in appearance, provided some of the materials I needed for survival. Their bark was fibrous and pliable, useful for crafting tools and bindings. The strange plants that grew near the pools of inky water yielded a sticky resin when cut, which I began experimenting with as an adhesive.
The creatures, too, were becoming more familiar. Their routes and behaviors were predictable, allowing me to hunt with greater efficiency. But they remained skittish, vanishing at the faintest sign of danger. This suggested that predators roamed the valley, though I had yet to encounter any.
Suddenly, a faint sound pierced the stillness. My muscles tensed. It was different from the noises of the valley's creatures or the rustling of skeletal trees. These were unmistakably human voices.
My hand instinctively tightened around the spear. I placed my bag down against the trunk of a gnarled tree, careful to keep it hidden but within reach, and began moving silently toward the source of the sounds.
As I crested a ridge, the scene below unfolded before me. I spotted two figures, looming over a third, who lay sprawled on the ground.
"You've wasted enough of our time, old man!" one of the bandits, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, growled, kicking the figure at his feet. His voice carried, echoing in the open valley. In his hand, he gripped a heavy axe, its blade glinting faintly in the dim light.
Mandarin?
I knelt low, observing. My breathing slowed as I assessed the situation. My gaze flickered between the bandits and their victim.
Aside from the burlier bandit, the other one was taller, leaner, and seemed more cautious. The burlier one was more brutish, probably impulsive, and overconfident.
The older man, frail and bloodied, coughed violently before trying to speak. "Please... I've told you everything I know. You're misunderstanding, the village has nothing to do with this..."
The other bandit sneered, his grip tightening on his weapon, "Liar. If you value your life, you'll tell us where the treasure is hidden. Or do you need another demonstration?" He raised his sword, the blade catching a glimmer of pale light.
Treasure? I frowned. The old man's desperate tone didn't match the accusation. But the word "village" lingered in my thoughts. A village meant people, a chance to gather information. If I helped this man, it might open a door to understanding this world.
Aside from a village, there also seemed to be a bandit outpost somewhere within the area. Moreover, why did the old man venture here, into this valley? Was he searching for something?
Enough watching, I decided. This was my opportunity. I shifted my weight, readying the spear as I descended the ridge.
I considered coming barehanded without a weapon, but discarded the notion.
I kicked a pebble at the ground, letting it roll down the slope, which alerted the two bandits. Their heads turned sharply, eyes narrowing as they spotted me.
"Oi, who's there?" the burly one growled, his hand gripping the axe at his side. His eyes narrowed as he spotted me emerging from the mist. "A kid?" He spat on the ground, his expression twisting with contempt. "Crawled out of a cave, did ya?"
I glanced at my makeshift clothing, realizing how disheveled I must appear. His words weren't entirely inaccurate, and I looked like a caveman with the clothing I made.
Well, that insult hurt.
The second bandit with a sword in his hands sized me up, his lips curling in amusement! "Hah! Looks like we've got ourselves a lost kid. Maybe his parents left him here to fend for himself."
I remained silent, my face expressionless as I approached. The old man turned weakly to look at me, confusion and worry flickering across his weathered features.
"Hey, kid!" the burly bandit called out, stepping forward. "What's your deal? Can't you talk? Or are you just stupid?"
I stayed silent, not replying to his inquiries.
"You got a death wish, or are you here to save this geezer? Scram for me, will you? Before I change my mind."
I tilted my head slightly, my amber eyes unblinking. If I were able to act and change my outward expression like Kushida, this situation would be much easier to handle.
"Sigh..." I let out an audible sigh, which seemed to provoke the bandit with the axe. Meanwhile, the second bandit, who seemed a bit guarded, stayed further away. It appears that he is the smarter and more careful one of both.
"You've got a death wish, huh?" His grip on his axe tightened, and he sneered. "Oi, Cheng Wuying, look at his face. He'd fetch a good price with those freaks from the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect. They're always looking for fresh goods."
Shadowthorn Covenant Sect? I frowned slightly, barely noticeable on my face. The name hung in the air like a curse.
Cheng Wuying nodded, his amusement fading. "You're right. He's got the look they'd like. But don't damage him too much. They're picky about their merchandise."
The burly bandit grinned, tossing his axe aside. "Don't worry. I'll keep him in one piece." He cracked his knuckles and took a step toward me, exuding an air of arrogant confidence.
A big mistake. Even though he seemed to see me as a kid, I still had a spear in my hand. Seems like he had great confidence in his strength.
For the first time, I spoke up, my voice cold and threatening, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
His grin faltered for a moment before he barked a laugh. "You've got guts, kid. I'll give you that." Without waiting for Cheng Wuying's cautionary frown, he charged, his fists raised.
Sloppy. His movements were heavy and unrefined, more suited to a brawl than a fight. I sidestepped his wild punch easily, pivoting on my heel and driving the butt of my spear into his ribs. The air left his lungs, and he stumbled, clutching his side.
"Too slow," I said flatly.
The bandit spun around, rage coloring his face. "You little—!"
Good, be angry, that's what makes this fight easier.
He lunged again, this time with more desperation than strategy. I ducked under his swing, stepping into his guard and slamming my elbow into his solar plexus. The force dropped him to his knees, gasping for air.
Cheng Wuying's eyes narrowed as he raised his sword. "You're no ordinary kid," he muttered, his stance shifting.
Before he could act, I grabbed the burly bandit by the neck, using him as a human shield. The tip of my spear pressed against his throat. "Drop the weapon," I said, my voice calm but commanding.
The bandit in my grip panicked, thrashing weakly. "Wuying, do something!"
"You—! How dare you!" The burly bandit continued, struggling in my grip.
I pressed the cold tip of the spear deeper against his throat, just enough to draw a thin bead of blood that trickled down the edge. That was enough and his struggles ceased immediately.
"You—! You don't know with whom you are messing with, brat! My uncle is a Qi Condensation cultivator. He will find you and kill you if you don't let me go!" The bandit panicked and threatened me.
Qi Condensation?
He spoke that name with both respect and a tinge of fear. Why? What made it so significant? Regardless, it was never my plan to kill them... not yet, at least.
The disadvantages would far outweigh the benefits of killing both bandits. For one, the old man, though clearly amazed, would likely feel uneasy and hesitant to bring a child into his village, especially one capable of easily dispatching two armed bandits. This would hinder my chances of gaining the information I needed from him, making restraint the more logical choice.
Besides, something about the words spoken earlier—Qi Condensation—left me with an uneasy feeling. Though I didn't fully understand why, a part of me instinctively knew it would be wise to avoid provoking major trouble, at least for now.
Chen Wuying, the calmer and more careful person among the two, stepped in. "Brother Fang, calm down."
The burly bandit, now identified as Fang from his companion's earlier words, immediately ceased his shouting, his demeanor shifting as the situation settled in.
Cheng Wuying hesitated, his sharp mind working behind his guarded expression. "Fellow friend," he continued, his tone placating. "We were mistaken. There's no need for this to escalate. Release my companion, and we'll part ways peacefully."
His attempt at diplomacy was a thin veil over the threat in his words, but it worked in my favor. I pushed the burly bandit away, releasing him. He stumbled back, glaring at me with a mix of fury and fear.
"Your name?" Cheng Wuying asked, his tone cautious.
I hesitated for a moment before replying. "Bái Xūé."
Cheng Wuying repeated the name thoughtfully. "Bái Xūé... Bái Xūé... a name I won't forget." He sheathed his weapon and turned, gesturing for his companion to follow. "Come on. We're leaving."
As they disappeared into the mist, I turned my attention to the old man. His gaze was fixed on me, filled with gratitude and disbelief.
"Can you move?" I asked, crouching beside him.
He nodded weakly. "Barely. Thank you... Bái Xūé."
"Save your strength," I said, helping him to his feet. "What's beyond this valley?"
"A village," he replied between labored breaths. "My home. It's safe... safer than this place."
"And why were the bandits here?"
His face darkened. "My son... he's ill. The doctor needs a rare plant to treat him. It only grows here within the Nocturnis Vale. I've been searching for months, and today, I finally found it. The bandits thought I was after a treasure."
Nocturnis Vale? Seems to be the name of this valley.
I glanced at the plant he clutched tightly, its delicate leaves trembling in his hand. "They didn't take it?"
"No," he said, his relief palpable. "You arrived just in time."
"Let's get you back to the village," I said, brushing the dirt from my hands. "You need treatment yourself."
The old man looked at me with weary gratitude but said nothing.
"But first, wait a moment, I need to pick up my belongings."
Without waiting for his response, I turned and dashed toward the tree where I had stashed my makeshift backpack before the encounter. Slinging it over my shoulder, I returned swiftly to where the old man waited, his frail form leaning heavily against a jagged rock.
"Here," I said, lending him my shoulder for support. His weight was light, but his frailty made each step a careful process. "Where is your village?" I asked, though I could already guess where it was located.
Confirming my thoughts, he raised a trembling hand and pointed in the direction the bandits had fled. "That way..." he rasped, his voice cracking before he broke into a harsh cough.
I nodded, adjusting his weight against me. Without another word, we began our slow journey toward the village.
The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect, Nocturnis Vale, and Qi Condensation, huh?
I couldn't help but secretly feel a tiny amount of excitement, contrary to my usual self.
Now that my situation didn't seem to be so grim anymore, a path materialized before my eyes.
A world where I wasn't bound by the White Room. A world where no one knows who I am, where I can start anew, and be free.
I still didn't know and likely won't ever know why I was transported into this world, but I am thankful for it. Well, though I wanted to see the results of my actions in ANHS, I won't complain.
But now I need to focus on the path ahead, the village, the mysteries surrounding the Nocturnis Vale, and what that burly bandit called Fang meant by Qi Condensation.
That's the most important thing now.
"Huh, Bái Xūé, that is what I am called now, huh..." I mumbled softly
The old man beside me, leaning on my shoulder, looked at me and asked me, "Sorry... did you say something?"
I didn't answer him and looked ahead. Bái Xūé, huh? I blurted out this name, and even now, without being physically in the White Room, mentally I still am within it.
I wonder if this will ever change...