Chapter 83: Dead Ends, Yet Again

Chapter 83: Dead Ends, Yet Again

The smell of books, dried parchment, tanned leather, and old paper filled the air. Pages shuffled, disciples whispered, clatters and murmurs filled the cramped areas between the shelves of the grand library. In a small corner dedicated to herbology books, several meek disciples struggled to focus on their studies.

A young brunette girl whispered to the disciple beside her, “What do you think happened to him?”

Her friend replied, “I don’t know... He had a conversation with him just a few minutes ago. You think they had a fight?”

“Hmmm, I doubt it. I think it’s pointless to debate what those monsters talk about. They’re likely involved in bigger plots than we will ever touch.”

“Uwaah. I don’t envy them if it can leave someone looking like that.”

“...Yeah. I’m glad I’ve convinced my family to let me become an alchemist. Even the risk of death by an explosion isn’t that stressful...”

Indeed, even though he had overheard their conversation, the target of their gossip had far more important things to worry about. He was sweaty, his eyes were bloodshot, and his crystal heart beat and chimed in his chest, every cling marking another moment where he failed to solve his problem.

I... I can’t get back in.

Neave was stuck. He had knocked himself out dozens of times but failed to return to the nightmare realm.

Why...? Why can’t I get back in?

Neave was simply frozen. His mind rushed to find an idea, a solution, but the flood of paranoia halted any rational thought before it could find ground.

He had bet everything on the opportunity to endlessly experiment within the nightmare realm. As it stood, he was too damn weak to even face someone on the first step of the diamond path, let alone a heavensdamned heavenly messenger.

There was only one thing he could do now.

Run.

The ‘lost child’ was enough by itself to attract immediate attention to the capital of the empire. Thus, Neave had to go somewhere else. Immediately.

He got off the chair and hurriedly paced out of the library, hoping to attract as little attention as possible.The initial posting of this chapter occurred via Ñøv€l-B!n.

Neave walked out of the building and was struck by the overbearing pressure of the capital crowds.

Colorful robed cultivators ran everywhere, masterfully weaving around one another and avoiding collisions. Talking beasts and people with distinct animalistic features made their way through the crowds.

The overbearing buildings of the upper echelon of the empire’s sects cast shadow and colorful reflection alike, bathing the streets in a chaotic blend of impressions.

A myriad of scents made themselves known, be it the perfumed desire for civilized presence or the sweaty armpits of the trainees present.

Someo... The field... Know... Suspici... Master...

Neave heard another voice.

Wait... Shrink... Hiding...

Neave felt like his soul was squeezed as he felt the barrier shrink and move toward him. He moved through the ground, slowly inching forward.

Did... Hear... erground...?

Neave froze again. He focused inwardly and silenced his spirit, using the same technique he used in the fight against Astrador to partially deactivate his spirit powers.

He winced as he felt his body morph and shape into standard form. Without the total influence of the shape-shifting power, he could just barely maintain this form.

Rustling... se alarm?

Neave couldn’t move, yet he still felt the barrier shrinking, moving toward him. He inched as far from it as he could, but he was afraid that the tiniest bit of noise, the slightest disturbance of soil, would alert them to his presence.

However, the barrier didn’t stop. It kept crawling inward, gradually shrinking as Neave desperately moved away.

Soon it arrived within a few meters of him. Not even three seconds later, it was less than a meter.

Just as it was about to touch Neave’s body again, he reactivated his spirit powers and moved as fast as he could through the soil, right back toward the capital.

There! ... after... what the...?

Neave was surprised by just how quickly he moved through the ground. Within seconds he was back beyond the wall, and soon enough, he unburrowed inside an empty building. He morphed into a plain-looking man and walked out onto the streets, looking as busy as he could while entirely silencing his spirit.

Moments later, he spotted them. Three people of overwhelming beauty, a man and two women, each on the third step of the platinum path, jumped down from a rooftop and pointed around. Almost immediately, one of the women pointed at the building Neave unburrowed into, and all three broke through the damn wall to enter.

Many people screamed, and the masses ran away, fearing a terrorist or bandit attack.

Neave ran among them, putting on a panicked expression with surprising ease and joining the crowds in sprinting away from the disturbance.

After a few minutes of running, it was clear he had lost them, so Neave reactivated his powers and moved through the capital again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Who were these people? That was a dumb fucking question, and Neave knew it. The barrier felt incredibly similar to the anchor inside the nightmare realm.

The damn messenger had already arrived.