My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 1165: Chapter 1166: A Tune For The Road

They decided to set up camp behind several giant boulders and protruding rocks that looked as though enormous swords had been impaled into the earth.

The center of the strange rock formation was littered with corpses.

Nothing remained of them except weathered bones bleached white by time.

Even so, it was outside the valley.

For that reason...

It was safe.

At least for now.

Back inside the valley, strange drifting shadows had begun to appear.

Each one resembled a former villager.

They wandered through the ruins, silently carrying out the same routines they had performed while alive.

Some swept invisible floors.

Others carried phantom baskets.

A few simply stood in front of homes that no longer existed.

Ranar couldn’t help but pity them.

However...

She also understood that going there would be dangerous.

As serene as it looked, it was nothing more than death wearing a familiar face.

The sight made her skin crawl.

Gunter walked over and stopped beside Ric and Ranar, noticing both children quietly watching the wandering shadows.

"Tch."

"Some newcomers arrived in the city recently spreading rumors."

"They said the God of this world, Aetherus, has awakened."

He snorted.

"Didn’t even know this world had a god."

"We do," Ranar replied.

"It’s the Goddess of Doom."

"Hah."

Gunter scoffed, shaking his head at her innocence.

"She’s just something the Temple made up."

"The only god that’s real..."

"...is the Unknown God."

"And he’s one evil bastard."

"You believe the Unknown God is real but not the Goddess?" Ric whispered, instinctively lowering his voice so the Rocs beyond the valley wouldn’t hear them.

"I do."

"I believe it because he showed up."

He shrugged.

"Maybe it was just a rumor."

"But I believe it."

"You know why?"

"Why?" Ranar asked.

Gunter stared toward the distant shadows.

"Because gods are wicked."

"They might be creators..."

"But don’t think they create out of love."

"Nothing is ever free."

Ric remained quiet for a while before leaning back against one of the cold stone pillars.

"I don’t think it’s that simple."

"My master told me true gods are absolute in power..."

"...but flawed at heart."

He smiled faintly.

"Blind Old Daoist said something similar."

"’If they have a heart... then they aren’t so different from us.’"

"Hahaha."

Gunter let out a quiet laugh.

"Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who believes gods created us in their own image."

He scratched the scar running across his face before grinning.

"If that’s true..."

"...then God must be pretty ugly."

Ric slowly shook his head.

"I’m not religious."

"Everyone is entitled to their own beliefs..."

"...so long as they don’t hurt others because of them."

Ranar continued watching the wandering shadows.

A human heart...

She wondered...

If the Unknown God truly had a heart...

What would it be like?

Would he feel happiness?

Sadness?

Did he ever get lonely?

As the thought crossed her mind...

Something flashed before her eyes.

The world suddenly became still.

In her vision, she found herself desperately holding onto a beautiful angel.

The angel’s magnificent wings were stained crimson.

Blood flowed endlessly from her body.

Her stomach protruded noticeably.

She was pregnant.

And...

She was dead.

The hands clutching the angel...

...weren’t hers.

Blink.

The vision vanished.

"Huh?"

Ranar blinked several times before realizing Ric was gently shaking her shoulder.

"Huh yourself."

"You zoned out."

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly and laughed.

"Hehe..."

"Sorry."

"I let my imagination run away with me."

Ric sighed before handing her a hard piece of bread.

She accepted it with a grimace.

This was probably the worst food she had ever eaten.

Well...

At least it wasn’t rotten.

"Get some rest."

"We leave tomorrow."

Gunter’s voice echoed softly through the camp before he walked away to keep watch.

Ric sat down beside Ranar on the cold stone.

As the night deepened...

The mountain air became colder and colder.

Without saying anything, the two children quietly reached for each other’s hands.

Their fingers intertwined, sharing what little warmth they could.

After a long silence, Ranar spoke in a small voice.

"Will we be okay...?"

"Ric..."

"Are we ever going to go home?"

Ric narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Don’t call me Ricky."

Only then did he close his eyes and lean back against the stone.

"We’ll be fine."

When morning came, they set out.

Before they did, Gunter wanted to check whether the Rocs were still blocking the way.

When he carefully peered over the rocks, his expression immediately darkened.

There were even more of them.

Several enormous Rocs circled lazily through the sky while others remained perched along the cliffs.

If they stayed any longer...

They might be spotted.

Without another word, the group moved on, staying low as they slipped from one boulder to another, using sparse trees and broken ruins as cover.

Eventually, they reached a weathered path.

A thick layer of pale fog clung to the ground, drifting silently around their ankles.

Far ahead, vague figures wandered through the mist.

Ghostly silhouettes that remained just beyond their reach.

Gunter and the two female adventurers each took out a wooden torch before lighting them.

The orange flames flickered against the pale fog.

"Here."

He handed one to everyone.

"Take one each."

"Ghosts don’t like fire."

Ric nodded.

Ranar wondered why they weren’t simply using her light magic.

After thinking about it for a moment, she figured they probably wanted her to conserve her mana.

So she accepted a torch as well.

The moment they stepped onto the fog-covered path...

Crunch.

Ranar frowned.

She glanced down at her feet while continuing to walk.

"Hey..."

"What’s making that sound?"

Gunter didn’t even look back.

"For your sake, Young Lady..."

"I’m going to say it’s leaves and sticks."

"Then it’s not leaves and sticks," Ric muttered, tightening his grip on his sword.

Far ahead, something pale beckoned to them through the mist.

A white figure slowly raised its arm...

Calling them forward.

"If you hear the voice of a loved one..."

"Don’t believe them."

"Some of these ghosts are old."

"They’re real spirits that failed to reach the Goddess’s Circle of Life and Death."

"I thought you didn’t believe in the Goddess," Ric whispered.

"I don’t."

Gunter’s expression remained unreadable.

"But I believe in death."

The two female adventurers continued walking in silence.

Neither of them spoke much.

In fact, they only ever seemed to speak to Gunter.

Ric and Ranar realized they didn’t even know their names.

"What about the rest?" Ranar asked.

Gunter slowed his pace slightly.

"Some aren’t ghosts."

"They’re remnants."

"The final wishes of the dead."

"Desires left behind before death..."

"...that take the shape of the person who died."

He stared into the drifting mist.

"Some of them didn’t even die in Soltheon."

"The mountains simply... know."

After a long pause, he continued.

"Those who die peacefully usually become part of the fog."

"They lose their forms."

"But those with bodies..."

"...are often warriors."

"People who died in battle."

"They leave behind the strongest regrets."

"They’re drawn here to the Anarchy Mountains..."

"...where the only peace left is death."

"And the living know only anarchy."

"We really do live in a screwed-up world."

One of the female adventurers couldn’t help muttering the words.

The moment she spoke, Gunter shot her a sharp glare.

She immediately lowered her head.

Ranar frowned at him before looking toward the woman.

"What’s your name?"

"You’re free to talk to us."

The woman instinctively glanced toward Gunter.

After seeing him deliberately look away, she finally relaxed.

"I’m Gia."

That was all she said before quietly continuing forward.

Ranar nodded and walked on.

A few moments later, she noticed Ric suddenly stop.

He stared at the fog beneath their feet.

Then he waved his hand.

Astral winds burst outward, sweeping the mist away from the ground.

What lay beneath made everyone freeze.

Skeletons.

Countless skeletons.

They stretched endlessly beneath the path.

Humans.

Elves.

Fae.

Beastkin.

It was difficult to identify many of them from their bones alone, but scraps of clothing, broken jewelry, rusted weapons, and old trinkets still clung to some of the remains.

Ric instinctively stepped back.

Crunch.

His heel landed on another skull.

It crumbled into powder beneath his foot.

The disturbed fog drifted back in, slowly swallowing the bones once more.

"What..."

His voice caught in his throat.

"Ancient battlefields."

Gunter continued walking without stopping.

"Probably from the Zero Epoch."

"Countless people fought here."

"They died here."

He glanced toward the endless mountains ahead.

"There’s an old legend in Anarchy City."

"The first war ever fought..."

"...was fought right here in these mountains."

He fell silent.

Then, almost to himself, he murmured,

"And war never left."

Gunter couldn’t help but sing a short, tragic poem.

"The first man raised a sword.

The second dug a grave.

Since then the earth has known

More bones than blades could save."

"The crows know no hero’s name.

The mothers never do.

The living march toward glory.

The dead become the view."

"We bury sons with trembling hands.

We raise more sons for war.

Man builds a better sword each age...

Yet learns no more."

"When kings wage war, the mountains feast.

When kingdoms fall, they grow.

The victor leaves with empty hands.

The dead are all they know."

"Ash to ash.

Bone to bone.

Every road to glory

Ends beneath a stone.

Blood feeds the grass.

Tears feed the rain.

The world forgets our names...

Yet remembers our pain."

"War asks no name.

Death shows no grace.

The mighty and the meek

Sleep in the same place."

Ranar was quiet for a long moment.

She looked down at the countless bones buried beneath the drifting fog before finally speaking.

"That’s a very sad poem."