Chapter 48: The Chase Through the Mist

You’re so heavy, Aldoran, you’re so incredibly heavy.

In the pallid mist, shrill cries echoed ceaselessly. Tentacles, foam, hands, eyes—a grotesque menagerie of monsters encircled Qing Yu, their sneering gazes fixed on his every movement.

Despite Qing Yu’s desperate sprint, the monsters clung relentlessly to him, trailing his every step and tormenting his frayed nerves with their bizarre laughter.

The rhythmic patter of footsteps reverberated through the silent fog. Qing Yu splashed through one puddle after another, sending spray into the air, all in a futile attempt to escape the relentless harassment of the monsters.

Having spent years as a recluse, Qing Yu possessed little physical conditioning; now, burdened further by carrying Aldoran, he was utterly breathless.

The torrential rain lashed against his face, stinging his skin.

Like hounds herding their prey, the monsters pressed close behind Qing Yu, relentlessly driving him forward.

Whenever Qing Yu veered from their predetermined path, they would abruptly materialize, blocking his escape and forcing him back towards their intended destination.

“Ha, ha,” Qing Yu panted, his face flushed scarlet as he ran, gasping for air. He had, of course, realized the monsters intended to guide him somewhere specific, yet he possessed no power to choose his own course; he was merely their driven quarry.

He lacked the strength to defy the monsters.

Though he was nearing oxygen deprivation, he knew he had to keep running; continuing offered a slim chance of salvation, but to stop would be certain death.

“Help, help me!” Qing Yu shrieked, his voice raw as he ran. If Roalsa had managed to resolve everything on her end, surely she would hear his desperate cries.

With their own forces nearly decimated, Roalsa had become their last, desperate hope.

“Ro-Roalsa, save me!” Qing Yu called out, fleeing, sprinting with all his might. His steps grew slower and slower, yet he persisted, clutching Aldoran as he struggled onward.

The ground trembled faintly, and from the depths of the fog, a low growl resonated.

“Save, save me!” Qing Yu felt his lower abdomen seize with cramps, his stomach churning violently, and waves of dizziness washing over his mind.

The uneven ground made him stagger, each step a precarious wobble, as if he might collapse at any moment.

“Save me! Save me!” he cried, as the monsters behind him laughed mockingly. Like shepherds herding sheep, they lashed his back with whips of pure energy, forcing him onward.

It was as if they were threatening him.

“Help! Help!” The earth trembled even more violently, the growls almost deafening Qing Yu, and a sharp shriek pierced the air, intensifying the furious dizziness in his mind.

Qing Yu’s throat constricted; he was on the verge of vomiting.

Yet, he ultimately suppressed the surging nausea within him and continued his desperate flight.

Qing Yu had no strength left to cry out, a burning sensation searing his throat, the sharp pain tormenting his body. His steps grew progressively slower until, eventually, he was no longer running but merely walking.

Clutching Aldoran, he stumbled through the fog-shrouded streets.

The monsters behind him continued their relentless lashing, driving him ever forward.

He staggered with every step, his back a mangled mess of flesh, crisscrossed with whip marks and smeared with blood.

He realized the monsters seemed to be herding him towards Roalsa’s location.

Sneering laughter, mournful cries, instrumental music—a cacophony of sounds interwoven, mocking him, tormenting him.

‘Why? Why are they doing this?’

Qing Yu couldn’t fathom why the monsters were torturing him this way.

Nor could he understand why they were driving him towards Roalsa’s position.

Regardless, there had to be a reason; the monsters were undoubtedly plotting something.

A terrible premonition welled up in Qing Yu’s heart.

The monsters reveled in the thrill of the chase, giggling and emitting twisted, bizarre shrieks. Dark figures materialized in every alley and street, dancing wildly as they observed his torment.

Qing Yu, clutching Aldoran, let out indistinct syllables from his throat. Weakly, he shuffled forward, enduring the monsters’ relentless lashing.

He was on the verge of collapsing.

The ground shook even more violently. Houses around him collapsed one after another with thunderous roars, and dust, mingling with the fog, rushed into Qing Yu’s nose and mouth, irritating his raw throat.

Unable to hold it back, Qing Yu coughed, spitting out a mouthful of bloody phlegm mixed with dust.

“Cough, cough.”

Uncontrollable coughing followed, and Qing Yu’s legs trembled, each step consuming an immense amount of his dwindling strength. Despair flooded his heart. As if sensing his hopelessness, the monsters cheered even louder, and the creatures behind him redoubled their efforts, lashing at his legs.

One step, two steps, three steps.

Qing Yu struggled to move, the monsters now terrifyingly close. He could even feel the brush of their sharp claws against his back.

A fierce gale raged, and the torrential rain poured down, blurring Qing Yu’s vision. The trembling road beneath his feet grew increasingly slick; this time, he was barely inching forward.

The arm clutching Aldoran had gone completely numb, trembling stiffly. His fingers, cold as iron, tried to curl and press against Aldoran’s body, but not one could move; his hand had become too rigid to respond.

The dizziness in his mind intensified, akin to how Qing Yu felt after riding the pirate ship at the park: agonizing, nauseating, on the verge of vomiting.

His stomach felt as if it were being squeezed tightly, an unbearable agony, and an uncontrollable urge to vomit constantly swirled in his mind, threatening to erupt at any moment.

*Clang.* Qing Yu seemed to step on something, his foot slipped, and he tumbled to the ground. Aldoran, flung from his arms, landed heavily with a dull thud.

Already in immense distress, Qing Yu could no longer suppress his nausea after the fall. With a wretched retch, stomach acid, food, and blood gushed out uncontrollably, like a broken dam.

The monsters cheered loudly, their twisted, bizarre bodies writhing wildly in the heavy rain, contorting into unnatural and inexplicable poses.

Qing Yu continued to vomit uncontrollably. The heavy rain cleansed the earth and lashed his back, while the monsters, laughing, whipped at the arm he used to brace himself.

*Crack.*

His already weak arm, struck in such a manner, lost all its remaining strength. Qing Yu let out a choked groan and collapsed to the ground.

Before his eyes lay a blood-stained longsword, resting silently in the heavy rain. Qing Yu remembered it distinctly: this longsword belonged to that frivolous woman, the leader of the town’s knight order—Roalsa.

In that instant, despair, helplessness, pain, and sorrow surged through him. Gazing at the longsword, Qing Yu finally comprehended the monsters’ true intention.

He was merely a toy for the monsters, herded and chased to this very spot. They wanted him to witness the defeat of everyone he knew, to torment his spirit for their twisted amusement.

Qing Yu trembled, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly, desperate to speak. Yet, ultimately, he could utter nothing; with each parting of his lips, only blood emerged, accompanied by a few indistinct syllables.

Fear. Despair.

Now, here, there was no one left to fight, no one left to protect him. Only one fate awaited him—

To become the monsters’ food, to be devoured by them.

A tentacle suddenly coiled around Qing Yu’s neck, forcing his head upward.

In the hazy mist, towering tentacles stood erect, and several faint points of light shimmered gently in the air.

Qing Yu knew these were the radiant forms of Roalsa and the others. The monsters had hoisted them high, solely to crush Qing Yu’s spirit more completely.

Sneering, shrieking—this was the monsters’ savage carnival.

An eye-covered tentacle approached Qing Yu, its many eyes laughing and emitting eerie sounds, mocking his powerlessness.

‘I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.’

‘Who can save me?’

The tip of the tentacle extended a sharp blade, slowly pressing against Qing Yu’s chest. Immediately, Qing Yu gasped in terror, his chest heaving violently, a clear manifestation of his dread.

‘Who can, save me…’

The blade slowly traced patterns across Qing Yu’s body, occasionally making a slight movement, nicking his skin, drawing a bead of blood, and toying with his fear.

The monsters sought to break him, to utterly destroy him.

Qing Yu was too weak to struggle. The tentacle wrapped around his neck tightened further, a suffocating sensation flooding his brain. The agony of being cut, combined with the torment of asphyxiation, threatened to shatter his very spirit.

‘Save me, save me, please.’

‘Anyone, please save me.’

Qing Yu prayed, his tear-streaked eyes, in their dazed state, seemed to glimpse a trace of blue.

‘What is that? A hallucination before death?’

Qing Yu convulsed weakly, weeping, awaiting his final demise.

Pain tormented him, while the monsters celebrated wildly, guffawing.

‘There’s no one left to save me now.’

‘What a pity. To die so soon after arriving here.’

The blue in his pupils grew larger, and Qing Yu’s consciousness began to fade.

‘I’m suffocating.’

Just as the blue filled Qing Yu’s entire vision, the sensation of being constricted suddenly vanished, and the blade on his chest felt as if it had been severed.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Qing Yu lowered his head, gasping for breath.

Though he didn’t know what had happened, he seemed to have been saved.

“My apologies, I’m late.”

A familiar voice echoed. Qing Yu felt himself being swept into a bridal carry. He forced himself to look at the person holding him—

Familiar white hair and blue eyes. The maiden stood in the rain, cradling Qing Yu. A blue radiance enveloped their bodies, and an oppressive aura spread outwards. Instinctively, the monsters grew wary, their cheers died down, and the world fell silent once more.

A cold wind swept through, and for a fleeting moment, the torrential rain seemed to cease.

The Emblem of the Eagle materialized beneath Aldoran’s feet, a sliver of light piercing the heavens. The Emblem of the Spear then emerged in the sky, and as a fierce gust of wind passed, the biting cold instantly froze the ground beneath Aldoran.

“From now on, the pain you endured, I will make them repay a hundredfold.”