Chapter 66: The Space Created

“Where exactly is it?!”

Mu Xuan was like a headless fly, parting the thick underbrush, wandering aimlessly in the black mist.

This was no longer inside the town.

Which also meant that it was almost impossible to tell direction in this black mist. Not to mention, Qiansitelin had only pointed out a general direction—if you strayed even a little in such vast distance, you’d end up far off from your destination.

Damn! How am I supposed to find it like this!

Mu Xuan looked down at the ground, leaning helplessly against a nearby tree.

It was too hard. Qiansitelin didn’t even mention whether there was any landmark at that place.

The Goddess can’t be contacted, the staff can’t be retrieved… Forget it, let’s just try.

The power of light could still disperse the black mist to some extent. At the very least, by dispersing some of it, he could extend his range of vision, which was better than the current visibility of barely 20cm.

Channeling the power of light from within his body through his fingertips, he let it shine out, then expanded its range; the black mist around him instantly thinned out a great deal.

Now he could see about a meter ahead. Beyond that was an endless sea of black mist.

Wait!

Even though it was faint, Mu Xuan still caught sight of a golden glow flickering on the ground.

Before, with the black mist blocking everything, he hadn’t been able to see anything at all. Now that he’d dispersed the mist around himself, those traces that had been covered up appeared before his eyes.

So there were marks after all… That means he wasn’t walking in the wrong direction.

He breathed a small sigh of relief and quickly followed the glowing marks on the ground.

Although he didn’t know why Qiansitelin wanted him to find the survivors, once he arrived, he’d probably understand her intentions.

Besides, Mosen was also there; Qiansitelin must have informed Mosen in advance.

When he arrived, Mosen would likely explain things.

But… he had no idea what Qiansitelin’s current situation was.

He still remembered that, when Qiansitelin had disguised herself as Mili before her death, she had said, “He” was about to awaken.

And now Qiansitelin also said that something in the mines was about to wake up… The two must be referring to the same thing.

The word “He”… It was usually a term for gods…

Thinking of this, Mu Xuan felt a vague sense of unease.

Qiansitelin was the church’s strongest force, her strength was roughly equivalent to the terrifying Moho level.

But Mu Xuan was worried… What if the “He” in the mine was a god-level horror…

The reason he’d never set a clear boundary for the Gutenberg level was because Mu Xuan had no idea just how powerful someone at that level would truly be.

If that “He” really was at the Gutenberg level, then Qiansitelin would be in extreme danger.

Damn! Back then, he’d thought the goblins’ underground palace was troublesome enough. Now, he’d run into a being at the very top of the power pyramid.

Still, there was no point worrying so much. If even Qiansitelin couldn’t solve it, then he’d be even more powerless.

If he couldn’t solve it, he might as well follow Qiansitelin’s plan. She must have her reasons for making him do this.

While lost in thought, Mu Xuan didn’t pay attention to the road and walked straight into a tree.

“Ah…”

Clutching his aching head, Mu Xuan stared at the enormous tree in front of him—more than three times his width—and the glowing trail that seemed to drift by its roots like an expert racer, and fell into contemplation.

Why did the marks have to hug the base of the tree so closely!!!

He muttered a complaint in his heart, but obediently followed the glowing marks, circled around the giant tree, and hurried forward.

At the same time, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

This rule-shrouded area was far, far larger than he’d imagined…

It was nothing like that little village before.

Wait a minute? Where’d the trail go?!

He hadn’t even taken a few steps, and the glowing marks had already disappeared, leaving Mu Xuan completely bewildered.

He strengthened the glow on his fingertip, pushing his field of vision out to about four meters, but still saw nothing.

What the… What now? The marks just vanished!

Seriously, couldn’t you at least finish drawing them?!

He looked around. Apart from some clumps of weeds, there was nothing else at all. For a moment, Mu Xuan really wanted to curse.

What was he supposed to do now!

He took a few more steps forward, circled around, and returned to the spot where the trail vanished, falling into deep self-doubt.

Did he take the wrong path? What if this trail wasn’t leading to the survivors at all?

Where was the promised little village? Where was Mosen?

Just as Mu Xuan stood dazed in place, a weak voice came from behind him.

“A member of the Church of Light?”

He spun around, staring intently at the source of the voice.

It was also an old man—sunken eyes with heavy dark circles, the skin on his face extremely loose, as if there was nothing but a thin layer of skin left… His back was slightly bent, his thin, withered hands clasped behind him.

“You are…”

“Mage Association, Mosen…” The old man said curtly.

Though he didn’t look well, there was still plenty of life in his words.

Mosen?

Mu Xuan was a little surprised. He’d assumed Mosen was young as well… After all, Qiansitelin was still so young.

“Grand Magus Mosen, I am Mu Xuan, the forty-second Pope of the Church of Light.”

“Heh…”

Mosen didn’t respond to Mu Xuan’s words, just let out a snort, as if he looked down on Mu Xuan.

Mu Xuan felt a little annoyed, but since the other was, after all, a Grand Magus—much higher ranked than himself—he forced himself not to react.

“Master Mosen, where should I go…”

“You don’t really think Qiansitelin can save this place, do you?”

Mosen still didn’t answer, but retorted.

“Master Mosen, can’t you have a little faith in the Light, just this once?”

Mu Xuan’s tone grew a bit heavier. Qiansitelin was still over there trying to solve the problem, and here this guy was, standing around making sarcastic remarks.

“There’s no such thing as Light in this world anymore… The Central Mage Tower was wiped out overnight. Your church can’t be faring much better…”

“Let me guess… Not a single Saint survived in your church, did they?”

Hearing this, Mu Xuan’s face turned dark.

As far as he could recall, the church’s strongest force had been the three Saints, the Silvermoon Knight, and the captain of the Templar Knights.

Now, as far as he knew, only the Silvermoon Knight Qiansitelin was still alive…

Tsk… This old thing, at his age, can’t he be a bit more optimistic? Why be so damn cynical?

“Enough… Follow me.”

Seeing Mu Xuan’s face grow gloomier, Mosen stopped talking. He sighed, then walked past Mu Xuan in the direction where the trail had disappeared.

“Put out that light in your hand.”

After stopping not far ahead, he spoke again. Once Mu Xuan extinguished the light, Mosen gave a gentle wave of his arm, and a staff appeared in his hand.

Then, Mosen began chanting softly, the staff in his hand sketching a complex pattern in the air.

As he sensed the black mist swelling around them, nearly obscuring Mosen from view, Mu Xuan hurried forward a few steps to stand behind him.

Alright, he couldn’t understand a word.

Mosen’s chanting sounded more like muttering.

But it did resonate with the staff.

Soon, the intricate design was finished. Mosen stretched out his staff, and as the last syllable left his lips, a bluish, rectangular screen of light appeared before Mu Xuan’s eyes.

“This is a space crafted by the Tears of Alrus.”

Mosen offered a brief explanation, then stepped into the screen of light.