Chapter 4
This is a small island.
Though that's only because Sonya's limited vocabulary didn't contain a more fitting noun. After all, this place could only be described as a palm-sized protrusion suddenly jutting out from the sea, as if the waves could swallow it at any moment.
But the sea was calm, extremely calm, without a hint of wind. Sonya stood with her legs immersed in the seawater, treading on the wet sandy ground, and looked around.
Thick fog, milky-white and suffusing every inch of space, surrounded her. The sky was like a smear of dense ink, murky and heavy.
I'm dreaming, Sonya thought.
She clearly remembered falling asleep in the girls' dormitory at the Academy of the Rose's Sorcerers, so it was impossible for her to suddenly appear on a small island.
Upon realizing it was a dream, Sonya felt much more relaxed. Curiously, she crouched down and tasted the seawater, discovering it was just like normal drinking water, and even had a hint of sweetness, completely unlike the bitter saltiness described in her online courses.
Sonya grew even more certain this was a dream, since she had never been to the seaside or tasted seawater before, so she had no idea what it tasted like.
"But if this is a dream..." Sonya looked towards the center of the small island, "Why would I dream of a corpse I've never seen before?"
In the middle of the small island, an unfamiliar corpse knelt half-prostrated in the sandy ground.
It wore a pitch-black overcoat with a hood, obscuring its features and heavy clothing making it impossible to discern its gender. A longsword pierced its chest, but it did not collapse, instead remaining kneeling on one knee. Its left hand clutched the scabbard at its waist, its right gripping the hilt of an undrawn sword, as if it had been stabbed through the heart before it could even draw its weapon.
Other than the corpse and the sand, there was nothing else on the tiny island. Since Sonya couldn't swim and believed she was dreaming, she had no fear of the corpse and boldly approached to examine it.
She discovered the longsword still dripping blood from where it impaled the corpse. Blood trickled along the beautiful engravings on the blade, flowing back to the dark ruby embedded in the crossguard, making the entire sword seem as if it had come alive...it was far too beautiful...
Before Sonya realized it, she was already gripping the longsword tightly.
The scabbard that fit perfectly in her palm, the ostentatious engravings that appealed flawlessly to her aesthetic sense, and the feeling as if it were an extension of her own body...this sword, it was as if...
...as if it had been custom forged just for her.
Without thinking, Sonya pulled the longsword free from the corpse.
She had assumed the corpse would collapse with the removal of the sword, so she took a step back to avoid being struck by the falling body.
Yet the corpse did not fall.
On the contrary, it stood up.
Step, step, the sounds of steel heels on sand echoed as the corpse slowly straightened its back before Sonya's frightened gaze. It drew its chilling, sharp longsword.
Swish! The sword sliced through the air as it pointed its tip at Sonya. Though its eyes were obscured, Sonya felt a pair of emotionless, icy eyes upon her!
"Don't worry, Swordswoman, this time, I am not your enemy."
The corpse's voice was neither male nor female, instead sounding like the grinding of machinery: "I will simply kill you, that's all."
Your definition of "enemy" seems to deviate greatly from the norm... Sonya gripped the ornate longsword tightly, as if it could grant her some sense of security.
"Who are you?" Her voice trembled slightly.
"I am called the Apocalypse Observer, you may call me Observer." The Observer said: "In the next seventy-two hours, you can only leave this place if you defeat me. Otherwise, you can only leave after seventy-two hours have passed."
"Isn't this a dream?" Sonya's eyes widened.
Sonya looked up with tearful doe eyes, seemingly hesitating a bit as her cheeks flushed slightly. She gritted her teeth and nodded.
"Then very well, I order you—" The Observer gripped his sword hilt and took up his stance, "Defeat me."
Clang!
"You have ten seconds to rest."
Sonya lay limply in the sand, blankly staring up at the pitch-black sky. Then she flopped up like a fish and asked in puzzlement:
"Why are you wasting time on a small fry like me? There are so many heinous sinners in this world, if you want to punish evil I can recommend a few people. Or if you're a villain yourself, I can also suggest a few highly-placed hypocrites to corrupt.
I'm just an ordinary female student, not worth the effort you're spending to deal with me. Your current actions are like using a spiral beam cannon to swat a mosquito, having a swordsman chop firewood - it's an enormous waste of resources, don't you agree?"
"Just tell me directly what you want me to do. I'm clearly a weak, delicate flower made to be ravaged, destined to drift with the tides since birth..."
But as Sonya tried persuading him logically and emotionally, the Observer simply shook his head: "You're mistaken."
Sonya immediately said, "Where did I go wrong? Tell me, I'll definitely fix it."
"Your first sentence was wrong."
"The first one?"
"How can you be certain..." The Observer gripped his sword hilt and took up his stance, "That you didn't offend me in the past?"
Clang!
"You have ten seconds to rest."
Perhaps from dying so frequently, Sonya actually felt decapitation was pretty mundane, the pain grew familiar so it wasn't a big deal.
She looked up at the Observer, "As long as I stay here seventy-two hours, I can leave this goddamn dream?"
"Correct." The Observer nodded, "Although, there are no clocks here. Compared to a lifetime, seventy-two hours is not long, yet to death, seventy-two hours is also not short."
"Can you really persist through continuous death for seventy-two hours?"
"Moreover, why would you believe the words of someone who continuously kills you in a dream? What if I'm lying?"
"And even if you did escape the dream tonight, what about tomorrow night? The night after?"
The Observer took up his stance, "Since you've witnessed death, you shouldn't expect miracles."
Clang!
The Observer stepped forward, and spun his entire body with the drawing horizontal slash. In an instant he crossed over a dozen steps, his longsword accompanied by massive centrifugal force as it moved to behead Sonya once more—
Clang!
For the first time, Sonya's blade blocked the Observer's edge!
Now, Sonya's face was expressionless, no fear, anger, killing intent, pleading, just the coldest stillness. Her ruby-like pupils reflected the Observer's obscured visage, as if engraving him deeply in her mind!
"You left me no choice."