Chapter 809: Visitors at Nightfall

The first day inside the sandbox world passed in a blur, spent hurriedly exploring the temple and the deserted city.

The simulated sun on the horizon was slowly sinking toward the desert skyline, its radiant glow casting the silhouette of the city-state Nim Sandro across the barren land. Gawain stood atop a high platform near the temple, looking down on the long-abandoned, empty city below, lost in thought.

Footsteps approached from behind. Gawain turned to see Selina standing beside him.

“We’ll rest tonight in an empty house near the temple,” Selina said. “Does that sound alright to you?”

“Sure, no problem,” Gawain replied casually. “You know the environment here better than I do. Arrange things as you see fit.”

Selina hesitated, opening her mouth but pausing for a few seconds before speaking. “Have you decided how to deal with the Overarching Narrator? Like… how to draw it out?”

This wasn’t just her question—it was one that Yuri and Magnum wanted to ask but dared not voice.

So far, the Overarching Narrator remained an intangible, formless presence in their eyes. It existed, its power and influence visible everywhere within Sandbox One, yet it had never revealed any physical form. Selina couldn’t even begin to imagine how to confront such an enemy. As for the Outer Wanderers…

She, Yuri, and Magnum had spent the entire day observing, but they hadn’t seen the Outer Wanderers take any active steps to seek out or oppose the Overarching Narrator. Gawain, like them, had spent the day gathering information and investigating. This left them with a nagging doubt—

Were all their efforts really enough to stand against that invisible, formless “god”?

As the giant sun’s glow dipped lower, Gawain glanced at Selina and smiled. “I know what you’re worried about.

“To be honest, a god who never shows its face, hiding somewhere in such a vast sandbox world—that’s a tricky situation, even for me. There’s no starting point, no way to get a foothold.

“That’s why I’m waiting. Waiting for the Overarching Narrator to make the first move.”

“Waiting for it to show itself?” Selina’s eyes widened slightly. “You really think it will?”

“It will. This is the opportunity it’s been waiting for,” Gawain said with quiet certainty. “We’re its last stepping stone to escape. Our exploration of Sandbox One is the best chance it has to seize control. Even without that, our intrusion as ‘uninvited guests’ has surely caught its attention. From what happened to the previous expedition, that god doesn’t take kindly to outsiders. It will respond—at least in some way. And once it does, we’ll have a chance to grasp its true power, to find clues.”

“An attack…” Selina murmured, eyes fixed on the sun now touching the horizon. “Night is coming.”

“Yeah, night’s coming. The last team ran into mental backlash after dark,” Gawain nodded. “In the sandbox world, ‘night’ is a very special concept. Once darkness falls, this world changes in many ways. We’ve explored Nim Sandro by day; now maybe we can see what its nights are like.”

With that, Gawain stepped toward the edge of the platform, ready to return to their temporary camp. But Selina’s voice stopped him from behind.

“Have you considered whether the words at the temple gate and the pulpit are true?”

“‘The god is dead’?” Gawain paused at the platform’s edge, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t buy it.”

Night finally fell.

The moonless sky blanketed the desert city-state of Nim Sandro. Strange constellations twinkled overhead. Inside an abandoned house near the temple, Selina lit her lantern, casting a warm, bright glow into the forgotten dwelling.

The house had been cleaned. Yuri waved his hand over the long table in the main room, conjuring a lavish feast out of thin air—various roasted meats glazed with rich sauces, their colors mouthwatering; desserts and vegetables arranged around the main dishes, vibrant and inviting; translucent wine glasses and candleholders adorned the table, completing the sumptuous spread.

“Enjoying good food doesn’t conflict with exploring the city,” Yuri said politely as he took a seat, exuding an air of refinement. “Though it’s all just dreamlike illusions, this place itself is a world of dreams. Eat to your heart’s content.”

“Boring as hell. We don’t even need to eat or drink here,” Magnum scoffed, plopping down at the table. “Should I say you really are noble-born? Even in this godforsaken place, you have to conjure up some illusions with Sutem wine from 702 Typhon and silver candlesticks—”

He cut himself a piece of roasted meat as he spoke. “—but I gotta admit, it smells pretty good.”

Selina frowned slightly at the two, cautioning, “Be careful—this is the sandbox world’s night. It’s not exactly safe after dark.”

“Of course. That’s why I’m just waiting for that damn Overarching Narrator to show up,” Magnum said loudly. “All it’s done so far is make vague dreams and illusions, and leave ‘The god is dead’ written in the temple to scare people. I’m curious what it’ll try next—maybe just knock on the door?”

No sooner had Magnum finished speaking than the house fell silent.

Knock, knock, knock.

A steady, rhythmic knocking echoed through the empty world, the deserted city, the quiet night—

Someone was knocking.

Magnum had half a piece of meat in his mouth and only managed to swallow it after two seconds, eyes wide. “Damn it… I was just saying…”

Outside, the knocking continued patiently, as if whoever was there had endless patience.

Yuri and Selina’s gazes both landed on Magnum, who glared back before waving his hand forcefully. “Fine, I’ll go open it—”

But Gawain stood first. “I’ll go.”

He approached the door made of some unknown wood, sending out a thread of his spirit to sense what was outside.

There was a human presence, but seemingly nothing more.

Gawain placed his hand on the door handle. At that moment, the knocking stopped, as if the visitor outside anticipated the door opening and was now waiting patiently.

With a creak, the door swung open, breaking the night’s silence.

Outside stood an old man in a tattered gray-white robe.

Tall and broad-shouldered, his white beard and hair framed a face deeply lined with the marks of time. His robe was worn and torn, the hem frayed beyond repair, but faint decorative patterns were still visible. In his hand, he carried a simple paper lantern, its dim light illuminating a small area around him.

Within that hazy glow, Gawain noticed another figure behind the old man.

A young girl in a shabby white dress, her long white hair nearly reaching her ankles. Barefoot, she stood quietly behind the old man, head bowed, eyes fixed on her toes. Gawain couldn’t see her face clearly but judged her to be young, slender, and delicate.

An old man and a young girl, carrying a worn paper lantern, arriving late at night—on the surface, they seemed harmless.

But in Sandbox One, in this empty world, their very presence was unsettling.

Gawain didn’t let their innocent appearance lower his guard. He assumed they might be some kind of test from the Overarching Narrator, maintaining the highest alertness while keeping his expression calm. “It’s late. What brings you here?”

“The city hasn’t seen a light in a long time,” the old man said gently, his tone warm and friendly. “We saw the light from afar and were surprised. We came to see what was going on.”

So natural. So normal.

But the more normal he seemed, the more Gawain felt the strangeness.

Footsteps sounded behind him as Selina came to his side.

She glanced at the old man and girl, nodded slightly, and asked in an equally natural tone, “Guests?”

“Sorry to disturb you at night,” the old man said. “May we come in and rest? It’s rare to see a light in this city.”

Welcoming visitors on a night when no one should appear was undoubtedly risky.

Yet after a moment’s scrutiny, Gawain smiled and said generously, “Of course—nights in the desert are cold. Come in and warm yourselves.”

Selina watched this exchange with a strange expression, a peculiar thought stirring in her mind:

The Overarching Narrator knocks on the explorers’ door. The Outer Wanderer opens it and warmly welcomes the visitor inside—and then things get interesting.

Of course, she had no proof that this seemingly ordinary old man and girl were incarnations of the Overarching Narrator. But given the bizarre circumstances of their arrival… even if they weren’t “incarnations,” they clearly weren’t normal people.

Inside the abandoned house, the warm light illuminated the room. The long table was laden with tempting food, the scent of wine drifting through the air. The guests who had come from the cold night were led to the table.

Yuri and Magnum eyed the strangers with a mix of curiosity and caution. The old man smiled kindly in return. The white-haired girl sat quietly, head down, staring at her toes, seemingly oblivious to everything around her—or perhaps too shy to meet anyone’s gaze.

“My name is Duvalet,” the old man said, showing no sign of anything unusual. He politely took a seat at the table and smiled. “I am a priest still walking the world—probably the last one.”

A priest…

Gawain caught the word but gave no reaction.

Duvalet then gestured toward the girl beside him. “Her name is Narithil.”

He offered no further explanation—no mention of who she was or their relationship, contrary to what Gawain had expected.

Yuri spoke up. “Narithil… that’s a beautiful name. Is she your granddaughter?”

“No, just a traveling companion,” the old man shook his head. “These days, it’s hard to find someone to journey with.”

Narithil cautiously looked up, glanced around, then pointed to herself and whispered, “Narithil.”

That seemed to be her introduction.

Magnum sneered but said nothing.

“We’re a group of explorers, drawn by curiosity about this city,” Gawain said, watching the two ‘people’ who had emerged from the deserted night introduce themselves so naturally. Not knowing their intentions, he chose not to confront them but instead smiled and introduced himself in return. “You can call me Gawain, Gawain Cecil. This is Selena Gelfen, that’s Mr. Yuri Charvin beside me, and this gentleman here is Mr. Magnum Keralbor.”

“It’s good to see travelers here again,” Duvalet said gently, his gaze sweeping over the abundant food spread out on the long table nearby. “Ah… what a lavish feast.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Yuri said politely. “Sharing food is a virtue.”

“The dishes are indeed excellent,” Magnum added, sniffing hard. “Ah… it’s a shame about the stench that’s everywhere, though.”

The entire Nim Zhor and the surrounding explored areas were permeated by a strange, foul odor—a persistent, creeping rot that clearly weighed on the archbishop’s mood.

Hearing Magnum’s complaint, the old man Duvalet smiled softly. “The stench of decay… it’s only natural.”

Gawain immediately furrowed his brow and asked instinctively, “Why is that natural?”

“The gods are dead,” the old man whispered, placing his hand over his chest, palm down, his voice growing even more somber. “Now… they have finally begun to rot.”

(Holy hell!!!)

(End of chapter)