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墨書 Inktalez
Qiluo Ling seemed to gradually lose consciousness, and everything around her lost its meaning. In her mind, there was nothing but that music.
It felt as if time had come to a standstill.
Qiluo Ling hesitated in front of a wide river, gazing blankly at the opposite shore. But she had to cross to the other side. Life was born on this bank, yet it ended on the other. The river stretched endlessly, seemingly without an end, as if there were no opposite shore.
The width of the river represented time, and a small boat was the music. She stepped onto the solitary boat, drifting aimlessly in the vast river that resembled an ocean, her sight filled with boundless water, with no land in sight, only an incredibly open sky.
Panic surged within her as she paddled vigorously, yet it felt as if the boat remained still because there were no reference points—same sky, same river water. She did not know whether she was moving forward or backward...
Eternity is fleeting; in an instant, it became everlasting.
After a long time, the music came to an end.
Qiluo Ling slowly stood up from the grass and glanced at the Unnamed Tombstone. It seemed that nothing had changed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a green light on Berland Mice's tombstone. The light resembled a pair of eyes, and it was moving.
With the dim moonlight guiding her gaze, Qiluo Ling focused and realized it was a large mouse. It swayed its plump body and approached her step by step. As it reached her feet, it lifted its head and stared at her.
She crouched down, using the faint light from her wristwatch to see clearly.
The mouse fixed its gaze on her with an expression that mirrored human malice. She distinctly remembered that look; it was the same malevolent gaze she had seen in Madam Carolina's cold and ugly face when she handed her the crucifix. The expression on that old man's face had completely seeped into this mouse's face—it was identical.
Qiluo Ling suddenly recalled the dream of the man in blue. Wasn't his face the same cunning and evil face within the cross? The expression on his face as he held the dagger and intended to commit murder was nothing short of ferocious and terrifying, revealing an expression of evil sin. The only difference was that the cross featured an old man's face, while the dream showed a young man's face. Their features and expressions were so similar; they were essentially the same person.
The scene flashed back into Qiluo Ling's mind. Vivid red blood surged like a tide, rushing towards her and drowning everything she could see. The smell of blood assaulted her senses, permeating the air and making it hard for her to breathe, while pain pressed in from all directions against her chest.
Then, the blood ignited again, but the flames burned a blue color, like gasoline being set alight. A wave of fire surged forward, turning everything to ash, then transforming into an open and transparent blue tide. Yet deep within the blue tide lay darkness. It came in wave after wave, wrapping her in the center of the waves before forcefully throwing her into the dark and despairing depths...
When Qiluo Ling woke up again, she found herself in her room. She sat up and looked around, noticing that everything was as usual with no changes. There was no acrid smell of blood in the air. The day was bright, and a gentle breeze swept through the curtains, bringing with it a faint floral scent from the lush garden.
She felt suspicious—had she really been to the forest?
At that moment, the door opened, and Madam Carolina walked in. Seeing Qiluo Ling, she exclaimed with surprise and joy, "You finally woke up!"
"Finally awake?"
"Yes! You've been unconscious for two days."
Qiluo Ling quickly glanced at the date on her wristwatch, remembering that she had entered the forest at midnight on Tuesday; now it was Thursday. She was somewhat shocked—how could she have slept for two days?
"We found you under that old tree in the forest. You were lying there with your eyes closed beneath its lush branches. You were unconscious as if you were dreaming; your brows were furrowed in pain, and sometimes you would scream in terror. No matter how we called or shook you, you had no response. It was as if you had lost consciousness, yet you still had breath and a heartbeat. We carried you back to the estate, but you remained unconscious."
Qiluo Ling frowned.
Madam Carolina continued, "So we called a doctor. He came to examine you and said there was nothing unusual; your body had some bruises but nothing serious. Perhaps your body fell into a state of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."
“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after the incident?”
“Yeah, the doctor said you have symptoms of traumatic re-experiencing. Your thoughts or dreams involuntarily and repeatedly bring up situations or content related to the trauma while you sleep. Didn't I tell you not to go into that forest alone?”
Qiluo Ling carefully examined the bruises on her body; the deep and shallow scratches glistened transparently in the sunlight, and everything in the forest felt like a dream.
“Is your body okay?”
“I'm fine, nothing serious.”
“What happened in the forest?” Madam Carolina asked with concern.
Qiluo Ling remained silent.
She didn’t know how to describe what she had seen in the forest. That scene was part of an absurd dream, even part of her absurd life.
That Mysterious Barefoot Woman, those evil and terrifying eyes, that unusual flame, that tormented heart. Everything was intricately connected to her dreams. She began to doubt whether everything in her dreams was her true life, while her reality felt so barren and pale. When the two collided, the scenes from her dreams had a powerful destructive force that shattered her real life into pieces.
She didn’t know how to save her real life. Would finding all the movements of Demon's Sorrow bring an end to everything in her dreams? Perhaps this was just an exit from one tunnel, leading into another tunnel.
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