Ash...it is very easy to be assimilated by ash...

The young nun's words startled Vanna slightly. In that brief moment, she felt something in her mind loosen a bit. But just as she was about to ask something more, the black-robed nun in front of her suddenly gave her a faint smile, then turned into a wisp of ash that scattered in the wind.

"Ding...ding ding..."

The familiar tapping sound came from somewhere again, and immediately afterward, Vanna felt another presence appear in the church. She suddenly looked around, only to see a hazy black figure standing at the church door.

Then, the black figure slowly walked towards her—with each step, the outline of the shadow became clearer. She finally saw that the black figure was an old priest with a slightly hunched back, wearing a worn-out church uniform.

The old priest was carrying a dim lamp in his hand, his palm reflecting a metallic texture in the lamplight. He seemed to have lost his arm in a battle many years ago, replacing it with a steam-powered prosthetic limb. He slowly walked towards Vanna, but his gaze never fell on the latter—his slightly sunken eyes seemed to be staring at a place further away.

A strange sense of familiarity suddenly surged up. Vanna couldn't help but get up from the pew and greet the figure with the strange familiarity: "Hello, excuse me..."

The old priest finally stopped. His gaze remained fixed on something behind Vanna, and he said calmly, "You have stepped into the wrong historical branch, Inquisitor—quickly find a way to leave here, before you too become ash here...He can no longer distinguish."

"He can no longer distinguish? Who is He?" Vanna asked subconsciously.

"The God who records history..." the old priest said softly, and as he spoke, his figure also began to rapidly turn into ash, scattering in the wind, leaving only vague sentences drifting into Vanna's ears, "...everything...will flow towards ultimate chaos..."

A wisp of slightly warm ash was stirred by an invisible wind, brushing past Vanna's fingertips. The moment she touched that wisp of ash, Vanna suddenly felt a jolt in her heart!

She still couldn't remember her past, couldn't remember what this place was, but she sensed the warning in her heart...She couldn't continue to sink here, she had to find a way out!

The next second, she suddenly strode towards the door of the church.

The church door was ajar, and Vanna pushed it open, the boundless night suddenly filling her vision—day had ended at some unknown time, and this boundless desert had welcomed the night. The sweltering heat had receded from the sea of sand, and the cold night wind had begun to dominate this forgotten yellow sand. The wind blew chaotically from afar, whipping up sandstorms like fine blades, the sand particles beating against the surrounding ruins and against Vanna's arms and cheeks, bringing sharp stabs of pain.

Skin that could withstand small-caliber ammunition was scratched with tiny wounds by the windblown sand. Vanna looked at her arm in surprise. She saw that no blood flowed from her wounds, but fine ash, like black smoke, drifted out of them, constantly dissipating into the air as if being absorbed by the entire world.

She was being "absorbed" by this world.

In that instant, she instinctively thought of retreating back into the church, but the next second, she remembered what the nameless nun and the old priest had told her, and a sense of alarm arose.

Sinking into the sanctuary was far more dangerous than facing these sandstorms head-on—a safe place would erode her will with greater efficiency, dissolving her very existence.

Leave this city first...These "relics" standing in the desert could not provide any protection in the sandstorm. On the contrary, their existence itself was the danger...This place was counterintuitive, the desolate yellow sand might actually be safer...

Countless thoughts flashed through Vanna's mind in an instant, but her actions did not hesitate at all. After simply using the tattered cloak to slightly shield herself from the sandstorm, she strode towards the exit of the city in her memory.

The yellow sand beside her undulated and writhed, as if something had been disturbed, or perhaps this city did not allow "departure" from the very beginning. Vanna suddenly saw something poking out of the sand out of the corner of her eye. The next second, a hand tightly grasped her ankle.

A human body formed from sand emerged from the yellow sand, grabbing Vanna like a soulless corpse. It crawled on the ground, and the constantly flowing and deforming face suddenly raised, emitting a series of garbled howls and babblings!

However, the arms formed of sand could not stop Vanna's footsteps at all. She took a step and broke free from the "sandman's" obstruction, then stomped hard on the ground. With a loud bang, the violent shockwave tore apart the body crawling on the ground and dispersed a large area of the surrounding yellow sand.

In the flying dust, Vanna saw something exposed from under the yellow sand. It was a section of stone pillar buried for who knows how many years. On the stone pillar, one could vaguely see a line of text still engraved: "...Wilhelm...the black sun descended from...we failed..."

The astonishment lasted only a moment, but Vanna's actions did not hesitate at all. She forcibly suppressed all kinds of thoughts that suddenly arose in her heart, and continued to run forward without hesitation.

The wind suddenly howled, and all kinds of sounds came from the air. Those blurred and layered noises seemed to be the calls of countless merchants, as well as the sounds of pedestrians and vehicles.

In the ruins of the sand city under the night sky, countless lively sounds surrounded Vanna. An invisible, bustling city was awakening beside her. She could almost imagine the lively, prosperous, and vibrant scene beside her at this moment, imagine a city still full of vitality in the night. At the same time, she saw lights appearing in the distance out of the corner of her eye.

Flickering lights were lit in the city ruins. Light sources floated out of nowhere between the broken and dilapidated walls. They looked like streetlights and lights in the windows of storefronts, and there were lights floating higher up, like the myriad lights of homes pouring down from residential buildings.

This scene was as if, after the city was destroyed and even completely forgotten, the lights that had once shone in this city still stubbornly remained in place, remaining in the memory of history. Whenever night fell, they would still light up in the places they once illuminated...

The city outlined by lights awakened in the night, illuminating the broken bricks and collapsed stone pillars covered by yellow sand. Many vague figures appeared in the lights, coming and going, making indistinct sounds.

Vanna held her sword and passed through these phantoms. No matter what illusions were around her, she ran forward with a clear goal, without any pause or hesitation.

But her body was still uncontrollably assimilated and devoured by the invisible ash around her. Her wounds were increasing, and even when no sand particles were scratching her, her body seemed to be damaged as if it was cracking on its own. Black smoke and ash were constantly escaping from her body, and with each escape, she heard the surrounding sounds and saw the surrounding scenes more clearly.

After a certain moment, she suddenly heard clear conversations, the voices were right beside her, even as if they were talking to her—

"Have you heard? The Thirteen Islands of Viseland have disappeared...The news came from the north a few days ago...That terrifying ship opened a rift leading to the subspace..."

Vanna ignored the voices in her ears. She waved her arm, and the wind swept up scattered the surrounding sand. A torn flyer emerged out of thin air in the sand and flew past her eyes, the flyer printed with a familiar face.

It was a wanted poster, the face of Tirian Abnormal appeared on the flyer, below the portrait was a string of astonishingly large numbers—countless zeros, more like a terrifying joke deliberately made to express "this person is infinitely dangerous" rather than a bounty amount.

Rhythmic music suddenly came from the night, and a huge crowd seemed to emerge at the end of a distant alley. Vanna heard someone shouting something over there, she vaguely heard the voice—

"...Frost welcomes a new queen...Her Majesty Lei Nora will be crowned today, may we bathe in the glory of the Queen, be protected by her, and be loyal to her..."

Then, all kinds of sounds came, all kinds of relics appeared, all kinds of information surrounded Vanna as if they were conscious—

On that road, it was the day when the Frost Queen Lei Nora was crowned, at another intersection, it was the day of the Frost Rebellion. Beside the street under her feet, people were discussing the wanted order for the former Frost General Tirian, and on the high platform not far away, relics from the ancient city-state era were being displayed. A great historian was giving a speech in the crowd. He was one of the main discoverers of the ancient city-state era, but Vanna did not recognize him...

And in front of her, a figure suddenly emerged from the sandstorm, a man dressed in rags, acting erratically, with a dazed look in his eyes—he was holding a crumpled piece of paper and a pencil stub in his hand, standing there blankly, seemingly panicked by the surrounding environment.

He kept bowing to the surroundings, seemingly stopping passers-by to inquire about something. He muttered, sometimes suddenly shouting and yelling, acting like a madman.

Vanna quickly walked past this figure, but suddenly stopped, she heard this ragged man with paper and pen constantly asking passers-by about one thing: "Excuse me...what year is it? Does anyone know what year I'm in now?"

Vanna immediately looked at the man who seemed a little delirious, but saw that the latter also looked up almost at the same time.

"Hello, my name is Pullman," the madman waved his arms. Despite his erratic behavior and dazed eyes, he still maintained decent politeness, "I'm dreaming again, but I can't find the exit this time...May I ask what year it is this time?"

Pullman...The famous "Mad Poet" Pullman?

Vanna was in a trance for a moment, and the next second, she saw the man who claimed to be "Pullman" disappear out of thin air in the sandstorm again.

Only the crumpled piece of paper and pencil stub he had been holding fell to the ground.

(End of chapter)