Chapter 1239: Return and the Distant Horizon

Before the towering throne that loomed like a mountain, the unexpected visitor’s figure vanished in an instant, swallowed by a sudden swirl of gray-white dust and sand—like a phantom dissolving into mist. The large black leather-bound tome resting quietly on a stone pillar seemed momentarily stunned, until the wind stirred again, and from within the book came the slightly puzzled murmur of Wilde: “I swear, there was someone here just now…”

No sooner had he spoken than a voice, both languid and commanding, echoed down from the heights: “What did you say, Mr. Great Adventurer?”

Wilde “looked” toward the throne before him. There, seated lazily upon the majestic, towering seat, was the Lady of Night, clad in a gown as black as the night sky itself. Gray-white fissure-like veins curled quietly at the hem of her dress.

“Ah, Lady of Night, you’ve returned?” Wilde asked instinctively. “Where did you go just now?”

“Me? I’ve been right here, only napping a little,” the Lady replied slowly. “Great Adventurer, were you asleep too? You sound a bit… off.”

“I… maybe I was dreaming?” The voice from the black tome carried clear confusion. “I’m not sure… I thought I saw a visitor who’d wandered in by mistake, and I spoke with her. She seemed like an interesting girl, but then she suddenly vanished. I can’t quite recall what we talked about… I even saw the empty throne, and you were nowhere to be found—I thought maybe you’d gone to the border to deal with that fellow again.”

“Sounds like you really were half-asleep, Mr. Great Adventurer,” the Lady of Night said with a hint of amusement. “It’s not so easy for ‘guests’ to appear here. If any sentient mind accidentally slipped in, I’d be the first to notice…”

She paused briefly, then added with a trace of anticipation, “I believe it’s your turn to tell a story… Shall we continue the one from last time? About the river of ice flowing beneath the molten lava, and the elves within that icy stream…”

Wilde’s voice carried a note of helplessness. “Lady, I’m glad you enjoy my stories, but could you appreciate something a bit more… plausible? Even I think the tale of the lava ice river and the elves is way too far-fetched. If you want, I can make up a new one for you?”

The Lady of Night laughed—a sound that seemed to cut through the eternal chaos hanging over this desert like a dark cloud. She lowered her gaze, like a vast shadow descending over the land, and deep within that immense, distant, and hazy darkness, Wilde saw a pair of amber eyes—full of mirth yet commanding—looking down at him.

“Mr. Great Adventurer, I’ve read enough of those sensible, reasonable stories. In this dull place, the more absurd and outrageous, the better, don’t you think?”

…

Amber jolted awake, blinking her eyes open. The hard, unyielding sensation beneath her wasn’t a trick—she was lying on her back on the floor. The familiar chair lay toppled nearby. She must have fallen from it, and during the fall, slipped into a strange dream—a brief moment stretched into hours of adventure and a wondrous conversation, only to be abruptly ended by the impact with the floor.

“Is falling the shortcut to waking from dreams…” Amber thought, recalling the words she’d heard before the throne. But then her attention was caught by sunlight filtering through the curtains. She clearly remembered it had been a bright afternoon when she first started examining those grains of sand. Now… the light was tinged with the glow of approaching dusk.

“So those few hours really happened. At least time flowed normally…” Amber rubbed her temples, trying to clear the lingering fog in her mind. “Was I pushed out from ‘the other side’?”

Muttering to herself to stimulate her thoughts, she suddenly noticed something odd—her gaze fixed on her fingertips.

Tiny grains of sand had spilled onto the floor around her fingers. Each grain was coated with a strange, otherworldly gray-white hue, a kind of diffuse, misty coloration spreading from the sand, staining the deep brown floorboards with a broad swath of pale gray.

“Holy crap…” Amber’s eyes widened in shock. She realized she might have seriously overstepped this time. But as she stared at the sand, an inexplicable sense of connection stirred deep within her—a feeling that these scattered grains were not just lifeless particles, but somehow an extension of her own power.

She focused intently, sensing this subtle link. It was delicate, somewhat like her usual perception of the Shadow Realm, but far more vivid and concrete. She even felt she could control each grain, perhaps even…

With a snap of her fingers, the sand on the floor vanished like a dream, and the gray-white stain gradually faded, restoring the floor to its original color.

Amber opened her mouth, then looked at her hand, as if still unable to believe what had just happened. After a long moment of thought and sensing, she reached out and gently rubbed her fingers together again—a wisp of gray-white flowing sand appeared out of thin air, falling softly onto the floor with a faint rustle. The sand gathered, and the gray-white “domain” quickly spread across the entire room…

“Oh no, this is bad…” Amber snapped back to reality, hastily stopping the summoning and scrambling to “reclaim” the sand. Fortunately, nothing went wrong, and within half a minute, the room returned to normal.

Once everything settled, Amber sat on the floor, still a bit dazed. She stayed that way for a long time, lost in thought, before finally slapping her thigh. “Wow, I’m really something now!”

She jumped up excitedly, ready to dash out the door. “I have to show this off to Old Zong…”

She rushed to the door, but just as she reached to open it, she paused, as if remembering something. Suppressing her excitement, she muttered to herself, “No, no, I need to test this more, figure out exactly what it is first. And more importantly, the intel—the book that calls itself Wilde…”

…

A cold wind swept across the desolate wasteland beneath the night sky. For millions of years, the ancient, chilly starlight had bathed this land as old as the stars themselves. Victoria stood atop the towering walls of New Agondor, gazing inward at the rugged, grand houses packed tightly together. Countless lights flickered, illuminating this lonely city that sheltered all life on a cold winter’s night.

She then looked beyond the walls, where the wilderness stretched under the starry sky. The rolling land bore the scars of war, and in the distance, everything seemed swallowed by darkness and cold. Only the ruined factories and palace-like structures silently testified to Talrond’s former glory.

The world outside the walls looked bleak and hopeless, but after several days here, Victoria had learned that the darkness and ruin were not entirely empty. Scattered, faint lights flickered deep within the shadows. Occasionally, the silhouette of a dragon would sweep across the night sky. These lights marked old factories still operational, or outposts guarding the safety zone’s borders. Beneath the ruins, dragons worked tirelessly to clear collapsed underground transit networks and storage facilities, laboring day and night.

This reminded Victoria of the ancient times recorded in books—the pioneers of the Ansu Kingdom who had toiled at the edge of the wasteland, carving out civilization. It also brought to mind the southern wastelands of the Dark Mountains, and the emperor’s plans for a counteroffensive to reclaim the wasteland. Soon, those plans would become reality.

At that moment, a gentle, smiling voice interrupted the duchess’s thoughts. “Sorry, Victoria, dragging you out to ‘take a walk’ in such cold weather—accompanying an old man like me to stand on the walls and catch the chill probably isn’t much fun, is it?”

Victoria snapped out of her reverie and saw an elderly man standing beside her, wearing a black soft hat and a black robe, smiling warmly. She quickly shook her head. “Not at all. Please don’t think that—I really enjoy walking with you.”

“Really?” Modir looked a bit skeptical. “Young people don’t have much patience these days. When I tell my adventure stories, they run off faster than anyone.”

“That’s just because they’re narrow-minded,” Victoria said promptly, forcing a smile. She thought she succeeded, as the old man’s face clearly brightened with a smile. “As for me… it’s been a long time since I had such leisure. Being able to set aside my work and stroll with you like this is a rare chance to rest and relax.”

“Sounds like your work is very demanding,” Modir nodded, then added with concern, “But you’ve been away so long—won’t your work suffer?”

“I… took leave when I left,” Victoria explained quickly. In a sense, she wasn’t lying. “I’ve arranged for colleagues and subordinates to handle things. Being away for a while won’t cause problems.”

“That’s good.” Modir chuckled, as usual not pressing for details about Victoria’s “work.” She took the opportunity to change the subject. “Have you been troubled by that ‘dream’ again these past couple of days?”

“Not really, no strange dreams lately,” Modir shook his head. “Maybe having you nearby helps? But to be honest, those dreams don’t happen every day. Since boarding that mechanical ship, I’ve only had three of them. Not frequent, but they’re pretty scary.”

“You can’t let your guard down,” Victoria said seriously. “Those dreams clearly involve divine power. One slip-up, and it could be catastrophic…”

“Alright, alright, I know, I know,” Modir waved his hand. His expression turned a bit odd as he looked Victoria up and down. “Did your father raise you this way? How come you’re so serious and strict at such a young age—more so than this old man here…”

At last, a flicker of awkwardness appeared in Victoria’s eyes. Clearly, she wasn’t used to this kind of conversation, so she forced herself to say, “I… I’ve always been like this. My father’s personality is pretty much the same. Actually, a meticulous approach to things has always been a family tradition…”

“A family tradition?” Modir blinked in surprise, pointing at himself. “And this tradition came from me?”

Victoria’s expression remained unchanged, but inside, a sudden thought struck her. She immediately recalled a casual chat with Hetty, who had mentioned some awkward stories about their ancestors not exactly living up to the family’s old rules. She thought to herself that she had finally encountered a similar situation. Yet, this little realization didn’t slow her response. Facing the curious look of her ancestor, she quickly replied, “Well… it should have been passed down from even earlier ancestors. And according to the family records, your personality doesn’t quite fit this tradition…”

“That’s a relief,” Modir said, patting his chest. “I was worried I might have been a stern, rigid guy once. That would be scary—living an adventure life with a permanent scowl sounds terribly dull.”

Victoria wasn’t sure how to react to her ancestor’s somewhat exaggerated response. After a moment’s thought, she realized she usually didn’t show much expression herself, so she let it go. Then, with a hint of curiosity, she asked, “Why do you enjoy adventuring so much?”

As soon as she spoke, the city walls fell silent. Modir didn’t answer right away, as if her question had stirred a flood of memories. After a long pause, he finally broke the silence: “Don’t you feel curious? About the unknown lands, the unknown things, the unknown knowledge… Don’t you feel curious? Our world is so vast, and the further you explore, the more you realize that the ‘end’ is always beyond your understanding. In this boundless realm, discovering things no one has ever seen before… isn’t that fascinating?”

Victoria opened her mouth, but the answer didn’t surprise her. After all, the family’s books were full of records about this great adventurer and his many words from six centuries ago, all of which she knew well. Still, looking into the light shining in his eyes, she couldn’t help but say, “Have you ever thought that these adventures might one day cost you your life? Even now, you’re entangled with the power of ancient gods… maybe that’s a kind of ‘aftereffect’ from one of your adventures…”

“Ha! Child, be confident—drop the ‘maybe,’” Modir suddenly laughed. “A troublemaker like me could never die peacefully in bed at home. The strange troubles I run into are just extra ‘gifts’ from exploring the unknown. Miss, you don’t need to remind me—I know this better than you do.”

Victoria couldn’t quite understand this almost obsessive ‘hobby’ of his. She hesitated, then asked, “So you…”

“I’ll keep going out, yes, I will,” Modir smiled, his gaze drifting toward the distant darkness, toward the deepest part of the wilderness beyond sight. “I don’t have any noble reason, nor am I trying to expand civilization’s borders—I’ve never thought about those things. I just feel… like this endless polar night. If this night never ends, and humans are like tiny bugs living under this dark sky with short lives, spending their whole lives in their homeland without ever seeing the sky beyond the night… But if we go out, no matter which direction, if we go a little further, we can see the sunrise, see the sun rise in the sky…

“Many little bugs might think it’s no big deal, but the sun… it really is there.”

(End of chapter)