The fear enveloped by death had shattered Alex's tiny bit of resilience. The eerie white mist surged forward, not sparing the pitiful teenager because of his current wretched state. It was cold and cruel, like the laws of nature.
The white mist wrapped around Alex's body, like countless slimy fingers caressing his naked skin, infiltrating every pore. Accompanied by the chilling sensation were waves of dizziness caused by blood loss. Something was burning furiously inside his body, intense as if it wanted to incinerate every drop of Alex's blood, resisting the cold from the outside.
His body felt as if it were being torn in two; the chill in his upper body and the scorching heat in his lower body created a stark contrast. This was a distinct sensation that could not be described in words, painful to the point where he wanted to faint but couldn't.
Streaks of light suddenly flared up, abrupt and blinding. As if receiving some kind of summons, the spots of light spread out to the surroundings, like silver fish stirring up countless ripples in the dark space.
The chilling sensation vanished, replaced by a strange feeling—cool but not bone-chilling, carrying a gentle comfort. Alex held his breath; he could not understand this sudden change. He couldn't help but widen his eyes, staring at the unbelievable scene unfolding before him.
He had fallen sitting down in the center of all the light. These countless blinding spots of light seemed to use him as the starting point to disperse, yet also used him as the endpoint to converge. But Alex knew he was not the center where they gathered; he was just a lucky bystander.
Under this light, the darkness was dispelled, and only then did Alex clearly see the thing that had tripped him earlier... a stark white skull, lying rolling amidst the weeds.
It slowly levitated, attracting the spots of light to gather toward it. Its empty eye sockets suddenly ignited with blue flames. The eerie white skeleton radiated an inexplicable holy aura, majestic enough to make one want to kneel and bow.
Finally, Alex saw clearly. The silver-white lights gathering toward it were not ordinary white light, but individual bones radiating divine aura. They flew in from all over the forest, piecing themselves together to form a complete skeletal frame.
This scene was too bizarre. Alex stared straight ahead, his mouth agape in astonishment. The white mist that had previously wrapped around him so aggressively retreated to the side the moment this strange skeleton appeared, huddling together. It was trembling; Alex could sense its extreme fear in the presence of the skeleton.
The frail teenager crawled up from the ground. The wound on his leg was still bleeding, but he no longer felt pain; his mind was completely captivated by the scene before him.
The white mist that could melt a monster in an instant was now afraid; the white skeleton before his eyes was absolutely not an ordinary existence.
Perhaps his prayer had finally been answered; some nameless god had granted him salvation. But this white skeleton didn't look like any orthodox god. Alex didn't care—evil god or righteous god, as long as he was saved, knowing this was enough.
Bathed in the holy light, an unprecedented peace enveloped the small teenager, soothing the fear in his heart. He raised his head, looking at the skeleton that was reassembling itself, each joint clicking together with a pleasant sound.
Vaguely, the hidden holiness began to turn cruel. The surrounding space transformed. Alex felt as if he had instantly left the small forest on the outskirts of Dune City, arriving at an ancient battlefield where corpses lay everywhere, tattered flags fluttered, wailing sounds echoed, and fresh blood and smoke became the only melody of the world.
A blinding red color—it was the fire burning the sky, the color of blood dyeing the earth.
That skeleton was indeed not some orthodox deity. Alex's mind was consumed by this thought. Before he could even observe his surroundings, that white figure appeared before his eyes, replacing the bare skeleton.
Everything turned into nothingness; only the figure before his eyes was so clear, yet also so vague, like a mirage in the desert.
He...
A crimson robe layered upon itself, embellished with smoke and fire, flowing with fresh blood like a river of life—evil yet full of authority, as if He were the very incarnation of the ancient battlefield, the manifestation of war and death, the King of souls.
Alex took a small step back. As if mesmerized, Alex forgot the priest's warning: all existences that cannot be described with language must absolutely not be blasphemed by mortal eyes.
He raised his head, looking toward that red figure, trying to carve this image into his mind.
Pain, a pain more intense than before; his eyes felt like they wanted to explode. But Alex could not look away. Something was linking him to the skeleton before him; invisible intertwining threads bound their destinies. Alex wanted to break free, but the more he struggled, the tighter the binding became.
Boom...
A loud explosion rang out in his consciousness. Such a scene could not be maintained for long. After the threads hid away, the eerie surrounding scenery vanished. The battlefield illusion shattered like a soap bubble, and along with it, the assembled skeleton also crumbled, losing the power that supported it.
Large and small bones fell to the ground in a scatter, hitting Alex painfully. The surroundings returned to silence; the white mist had vanished completely. Until the final moment, the original skull fell to the ground, rolling to Alex's feet and emitting a dull thud, finally breaking the silence of the forest.
Alex swallowed his saliva, his heart still pounding. He tried extending a trembling hand to poke the white skeleton; there was no reaction. They were just senseless dry bones, as if everything that had happened before was just an illusory dream. But that feeling was so real; the smell of blood and smoke still lingered at the tip of his nose.
It was absolutely not an hallucination. The things spying on him from the surroundings had disappeared, and the white mist had vanished without a trace. The air became strangely fresh.
He was saved.
Alex let out a breath, sitting down on the ground to regain his strength. But now was not the time to relax; no one could guarantee that the mist or other things wouldn't return. He still had to quickly return to the small house and light the oil lamp left by the priest.
The teenager picked up his body bag, checking to see if it was torn. Then, hesitating for a moment, he picked up the bone fragments on the ground and put them in together with the boy's remains. After all, he couldn't leave his benefactor lying in this desolate wasteland.
He put the body bag back on his back, feeling it was a bit heavier. He bent down to pick up the white skull; a cool sensation transmitted to his hand. He hugged it to his chest and ran toward his home, his steps limping but determined.