NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter-165 Bizarre
Murals and carvings lined the cave walls and led to the end hall, portraying the evolution of amateur doodles into professional etchings, the scope of improvement leaving its mark with each stroke. Though it was hard to gather the image that the carver wanted to convey from these time-battered motley depictions, the comprehensible bits and pieces did point towards the part of the history it wanted to show—the end of the Ashocan Kingdom.
And this sparse information failed Ewan’s studied knowledge. The ‘Endless Helix’ wasn’t the downfall of the Ashocan Kingdom in these pictures; the kingdom survived that onslaught. If he were to believe these carvings, the mystic element had yet again shown him a false history. Not only that but the books agreed with that ‘false’ history too.
Nevertheless, this wasn’t his concern. The problem with the mystic element already tripped him once, he didn’t need to confirm another example to prove it again.
“B-Boss, what happened?” Kidd groaned and woke up, rubbing his head. “Where’re those girls?”
“You fainted, your head will ache for a while,” Ewan said, walking to the man. “What’s your name?”
“S-Stefan, sir, Stefan Rad,” he said, barely propping his body up and sitting straight.
“How did you come here? What did you hear?”
That illusion would’ve smothered an average Kyron, only a strong soul could resist it. Kidd passed the chasm because of his newfound path and his innate talent, but this man survived it too—his soul qualified to be a Severynth, even a Cerade perhaps. Alas, he’d long left the important years when he could change his life with these two paths.
“I-I don’t know, sir. Everything went dark, and I just kept walking,” Stefan said. “I heard whispers, he was asking me to die.”
“Did you recognize the voice?” Ewan asked.
“I-It was my newborn son,” Stefan said, his hand shaking as he stared at the ground.
Ewan held his words back, how could he recognize his newborn son’s voice…. This was a guilt-ridden man; his bruised conscience strengthened the illusion, and his own guilt strangled him.
“You survived,” Ewan said. “So, do you want to come with me?”
Though it was risky to bring along a wounded man like him, the fact that his drive to live quelled his suicidal state was enough to appease Ewan—at least it would prevent him from jumping head-first into a death pit.
Drarith might have many more men who could navigate the waters like Stefan, or even better than him, but none would come to him with the same condition. If he instead went to recruit them, it would become a transaction, where he would occupy the lower position of an asker.
“Yes, sir.” Stefan looked up at him with wide eyes. “Please let me.”
“I hope you didn’t lie about your navigation skills.”
“No, sir, definitely not,” Stefan said. “I have eight years of experience on the waters, I spent most of my childhood on the ocean.”
“Okay, stay here with Kidd, get to know each other,” Ewan said, and walked towards the end of the cave.
….
Mystic-Anima brimmed the hall, leaking out into the tunnel, its argent halo lighting up the red-iron walls. They cheered, they played, and the ocean of Anima stormed inside the narrow confines. A simple bedroom sectioned out towards the right end, the stone bed chipped and cracked, the creaky table on the brink of collapse. While the left held traces of a makeshift kitchen with the shattered bits and pieces of Potioneering equipment, the crooked wood-based stove and the uneven stool conveying the touch of an amateur hand. And the back of the hall opened up to a small room, scorched walls and pitted floor being the only hints of its purpose.
Nevertheless, the vestige of life here resisted well against the erosion of time, as if the distant past crossed the aged history to paint its story for the future visitors. Or it had external help…
Ewan looked up at the vibrating pitch-black hole in the ceiling, and his heart fell. All that work, all the time spent, all the lives he took, it was all for naught. The Mystic-Anima weren’t so jolly anymore, and the hall looked grim. The ecstasy of success drained off his face and only frustration remained.
A fishing line dropped from that hole, the hook carrying a pearly Anima Crystal, and swayed among the crowded Mystic-Anima, the line shaking from time to time. Dozens of Mystic-Anima converged and condensed, they twisted into the form of a fish, and rushed towards the hook. The fishing line trembled again, and the hook lured in the newformed fish. And when it bit the crystal, when the line tautened, when the hook was about to pull it up, the fish scattered into hundreds of Mystic-Anima, and the crystal was no more—from dozens to hundreds of particles, the crystal was the price.
His suspicions came true, this cave was already under the Ensils, and someone at the top paid special attention to it. All the pieces of this pie had their owners, it wouldn’t be his turn to take a share. But the medallion his Pa left him endured a crack to bring him here…. Either it failed his Pa’s purpose or there was something here for him that the others missed.
“Kiddo, you really took your time.” A heavy voice shot out from the hole in the ceiling. “I almost thought you would never come in.”
“Sir Governor.” Ewan bowed. “I’m sorry if I intruded in your area, it wasn’t my intention to trespass.”
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