Chương 78: Chapter 79: The Sea of Bitterness (I)

"So, any idea how old this place is?" Ember asked.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps a thousand or two, if I have to guess." He whistled.

"It could be longer than that," she said.

"But considering this works as a pocket realm, time here might not flow as linearly as it does outside."

"I don't think time is linear outside either," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Dawn cocked her head in askance. Ember was ready to explain, but the words froze on his lips as soon as he opened his mouth.

"I might be a little stupid to explain this," he began, "but I think time kind of speeds up or slows down depending on how fast you are moving." Seeing the scepticism growing on her expression, he quickly added, "Oh, I'm talking about at least the speed of light here."

"And you think our mundane brain is too small to comprehend it?" He allowed himself to nod. Dawn paused for a few seconds to collect her thoughts. She usually did that when she had a lot on her mind or had to explain something difficult.

"Well, you might be right about that one. Even if there's some kind of time dilation at work here, we would only feel a linear progression of time." He had read about time dilation, sure, but he wasn't certain how exactly that worked, or even if it was true. For all he knew, any kind of time manipulation, even through rifts and dungeons, was extremely rare. Perhaps one or two in a thousand rifts had a similar characteristic.

"Anyhow, time flow might be more wonky here," Dawn added. So they carried on through the rough hallways, as Ember continued to mention the tidbits he remembered about physics. Of course, his knowledge of how time flows mostly came from movies; he had to specially thank Christopher Nolan for that. So by the time he had explained most of the plotlines of Interstellar, their pace of movement had already slowed to a trot, too invested in the story.

"For someone with limited knowledge in mana," Dawn interjected, "you know an awful lot about how time works."

"It's just a story," he said, "I fear I have lost most of its scientific meaning in my narration."

"So you do read a lot of novels."

"That's not—""You don't need to defend yourself. I kind of like your story, not you trying to explain time, though." She faltered on the walk, a look of melancholy surfacing on her face.

"I think there's a universal appeal in knowing that a parent's love for their children transcends time and space." All hail Sir Christopher Nolan for that. Along the way, he saw many of the sapphire manathema crystals on the walls, but he didn't try to collect any more of them after Dawn insisted on their importance. And yes, he was going to keep calling it manathema, which sounded so much better than Mirrorstone, or whatever. They were moving alongside the narrow stream.

Given the importance of the abyssal currents and streams, it likely led them to wherever they needed to go. Perhaps they were the primary factor keeping the pocket realm running.

"So which novel is it?" Dawn asked.

"I might not have as much time to read, but I will pick it up, seeing how invested you seem in explaining the story to me."

"That... You might not be able to find a copy around here."

"Just tell me the title already. There are very few things in the world a few coins cannot solve." Ember rubbed his forehead.

"I don't remember the exact name," he said, making sure his face was straight and his voice believable.

"But if I manage to find a copy, I'll get it to you." She eyed him and then clicked her tongue.

"Whoever told you you're good at lying is lying to you."

"I promise you I will get you a copy one way or another."

"Now that's more believable." Dawn faltered on the path as the bracelet on her wrist gleamed.

"Oh, looks like one of my constructs found something interesting. Let's pick up the pace, this way." They changed course after covering a mile and a half, following a narrow path that opened along the side walls. The passage wasn't that narrow, but they had to crawl through it with the abyssal currents dispersing through the walls even with the Manathema's protection.

"So what did your little Spidey Scout find?" Ember asked.

"You'll see when you get there." Even though the narrow tunnel split into many paths, Dawn didn't hesitate to choose the course, led by the spider construct ahead of her.

"So you can see through the eyes of the construct?"

"It isn't exactly like seeing," she explained.

"It's more like a variation of mana perception. I guess if the sensors on the constructs are good enough, it's more precise than my own perception."

"How does this exactly work?" he asked.

"How does the construct cast information so far?" Does it have some magic Wi-Fi or something? If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Oh, I thought you knew that already," she said, holding out her hand toward him.

"Those constructs are linked to the gem in my bracelet. I can glimpse where they were moving if I access the gem with my mana. Here, you can try it too. Just pour a trickle of your mana in." She didn't need to ask him twice. A thread of mana flowed from his palm into the purple gemstone on her wrist. It was the same bracelet that could materialise a shadowy shroud, though that seemed to be the ability of a different gem embedded in it. Ember didn't have to do any tinkering.

As soon as his mana touched the gem, he gained access to the view; alien sensory information opened up in his mind's eye. It took him a few moments to make sense of what he was receiving. Yet, he was used to his mana sense, and even though the scans felt more alien than what he was familiar with, he could make out the surfaces and surroundings the constructs were scanning ahead.

"What we see is limited by the construct and by our own abilities," Dawn said.

"For example, a true silver-ranker, or a gold one, would see more than the naked eye could perceive through a construct. Actually, an elite gold-ranker wouldn't even need a construct if they wanted to scan somewhere just a few kilometres ahead. Their sensory skills are just that good. Whereas silver rank is where our mental capacity expands into a new realm." At least Ember had heard of that last part. Each of the ranks, from copper, iron, silver, to gold, corresponded to a specific kind of growth.

Copper laid the foundation for the ranks that followed. Iron reforged the body, making it something more than human. Silver was where the mind evolved and expanded, making it capable of more. Gold rank was the most elusive. From Dawn's explanations, he gathered that it was related to awakening a soul.

"Looks like we're almost there," Dawn said, heaving a sigh of relief. She hurried and finally emerged from the tunnel, which led to an enclosed chamber. Ember climbed down behind her. Through the eyes of the spider construct, he'd already seen what was there, but now he could make it out clearly. It seemed to be an abandoned research facility of some kind, wide and spacious, with stone tables and seats placed everywhere.

It didn't look like many people had worked here for very long, judging by how enclosed the space was. What disappointed him more was that there seemed to be little left behind. Only a few scraps of material scattered here and there, along with some research papers and notebooks. The papers crumbled into dust the moment he nudged them with his boot. Nothing of it seemed recoverable.

"This looks like a decent piece of silver alloy," Dawn muttered, holding up a bent hammer from one of the stone tables.

"Here, you can have it." She tossed it to him, and Ember had to use his Blitz Steps and his quick reflexes to catch it in time. It was heavy. He had little knowledge of metallurgy to tell exactly what the hammer was made of, or whether there was any real silver through its dark surface. But since Dawn had called it decent, it was probably worth a ton. Digging through the rest of the scraps, they found a few more artefacts of a similar calibre to the hammer.

Of course, only the materials were usable now, as any rune formations etched into them had long since crumbled away. Dawn didn't seem to fancy any of them, giving all of them up. Although they weren't much, his bag wasn't spacious enough to carry them either. Among the few, he liked a pair of nail-shaped daggers the most. They were corroded and beyond repair, but they still felt handy in his palms. There seemed to be something uncanny about them too. His mana was acting weird as soon as he tried to augment one.

I'd need to test them on some creatures to find out, or show them to Dawn. The latter seemed more plausible in his current predicament.

"Interesting," she said.

"These seem to have been experimented with abyssal currents that transformed the very nature of the alloy. Although their neutralisation properties are limited, they will paralyse anything you pierce with them."

"I don't think I can pour my mana into it."

"Well, that's the point of mana neutralisation, isn't it?" Dawn said.

"I think they were probably looking for a way to neutralise something with these. Hmm, now that I see it, they look more like some torture device. There might be more of them lying around here." They did find a couple more, but their condition was even worse than the pair. After finishing with the metals, they searched through the papers and notebooks to see if anything was salvageable.

They handled everything carefully and managed to find a few pieces of parchment that were still intact, though whatever was written on them was in some obscure, ancient language neither of them could decipher. Even Dawn's Boon of Translation didn't seem to work on it.

"I think my grandfather will like these," she said, carefully stowing them away in her inventory. Before they left the research facility, Dawn cast a spell to scan the surroundings, checking whether they had missed anything else, or if anything was camouflaged through some mechanism.

"You never know," Dawn said.

"Those old fogies from the past tended to be pretty secretive."

"Hmm, what was that?" Ember asked, eyeing the wall to his right.

"What are you talking about?"

"Something shone in the wall when your spell touched it."

"Oh?" Dawn crept closer to the wall, feeding more of her mana into it, and noticed it too.

"I feel like there's something hidden in here. Wait a second." Her hand brushed over the smooth surface of the wall. She traced it carefully, following the spots where her mana seemed to glow, until something clicked.

"I found it. Its probbaly a message of some kind, left behind by the researchers. I just need to pour in a bit more mana here and... voilà!" A surge of mana shot from her palm into the wall, flaring with silver radiance. Although she mentioned a little more, he estimated she'd channelled at least two hundred breaths of mana in just a few seconds to unearth whatever lay hidden there. The whole space lit up in a bright, luminous glow. They both stepped back as the light faded.

What remained was a mural painting on the wall. A breathtaking one that pulled his mind inwards without him even giving it a significant glance. A burly figure stood wearing macabre armour, more like a thick exoskeleton than the kind of armour Ember was used to seeing. Its pauldrons were sharp and pointed, extending a couple of feet past the shoulders, whereas every part of his breastplate was jagged and rough, accentuating the person's brutal form.

The figure held a long sword in one hand, its blade glowing a bright red, mirroring his merciless eyes, pointed straight towards a woman kneeling before him. Neither of their faces was visible. The woman had a head full of burning silver hair, flowing like steam all the way to the ground, the curls akin to ripples in clear water. As much as she appeared vulnerable, the other person came across as inhumane.

"Well, I don't know much about art," Ember said, hesitating, "but this looks like something culturally important." Dawn stared at the image, unblinking, as if she hadn't even heard him. He crept closer and was about to place a hand on her shoulder to nudge her, only to freeze when he noticed a single tear running from the corner of her eye. Then she snapped out of it, quickly wiping the tear away, though her gaze lingered on the image.

"I'm fine," she said before he could even ask.

"I just didn't expect to see something like this here. And I probably saw more in it than you did." Ember studied her face and nodded, hoping not to make it more awkward for her.

"I think I need to take this with me," she said after she seemed to shake off whatever had struck her.

"How? You'd have to cut out three metres of stone to take it. Does your inventory even have room for that?" Dawn didn't seem worried about that at all, already pulling out her staff to get to work. Of course, she didn't act on impulse. She was better than that.

"So," he asked tentatively, "do you know who they are? In the painting, I mean." She craned her neck to spare him a glance.

"I thought it was obvious," she said, her gaze turning back to the burly figure in the image.

"That's the Lord of Hatred, the executioner who murdered nearly half the deities of this realm."