Chapter 812: Chapter 809: Ashes with the Wind.

In the desolate, abandoned city, Fenna proceeded with caution, her invisible companion walking alongside her, happily introducing her to this bustling, lively, and wonderful place.

This city was the most prosperous in the entire “continent,” known to almost everyone, and where most people lived or at least passed through their travels. The city guards here were dutiful, the residents were friendly and generous, and it gathered all the fresh and interesting goods from around the world, along with every new and exciting idea and story.

“Everyone loves it here, and you will too,” the cheerful voice said beside Fenna, “Just stay a few days, and you’ll see what draws people to it!”

Fenna listened half-heartedly to the enthusiastic guide beside her, while her mind spun with some slightly strange but very real… thoughts.

She pondered, she couldn’t see the “people” in this city, but occasionally she could hear the voices of others nearby. So, to the residents here (who might indeed exist), was she like a blind person carrying a big sword? Such a dangerous armed person walking with eyes closed, swaggering about the streets… Had those invisible residents really shown no reaction?

She also thought about the chatty guide beside her–a young girl, judging by her voice. Since Fenna couldn’t see or even touch her, it was naturally hard to “tour” the place based on the guide’s directions. So, Fenna had been exploring through the ruins on her own accord, mostly ignoring whether her “fellow traveler” was following her, or whether she could keep up. But “Miss Guide” seemed to find nothing odd about this at all.

She just naturally stayed by Fenna’s side, her voice maintaining a steady distance whether Fenna suddenly walked in a different direction, smoothly conversing with her as if this was the visiting route she had planned for a “new friend.”

Fenna stopped near a crossroads, silently organizing her thoughts.

What kind of existence was she, this “foreigner,” to the invisible inhabitants of this city and the unseen companion at her side?

The moment this question surfaced, an even stronger sense of disorientation suddenly struck her, and Fenna felt her mind go blank for a moment, as if… she had forgotten something very important.

She looked up in confusion, surveying the strange and desolate ruins, vaguely remembering that she had noticed some “inconsistencies,” but now that sense of incongruity had vanished.

“Would you like some fruit?” a voice suddenly came from the roadside nearby, interrupting Fenna’s pondering. It sounded like a gentle old woman, “They were just brought into the city this morning. Fresh and quenching, you must’ve traveled a long distance, right?”

Fenna followed the voice and saw a mound covered partially by yellow sand, made up of wooden planks and stones. A blurry shadow sat in the rubble, reaching towards her as if a vendor peddling wares–a gust of wind blew sand from the shadow’s hand, leaving only sand on the plank in front of it.

Fenna blinked, and the shadow disappeared instantly.

She stood alone at the crossroads, the hollow sound of the wind in her ears. After a while, she realized the voice of her “invisible companion” had also disappeared and had not been heard for a long time.

Fenna turned her head towards the last direction she felt the other’s presence and tentatively asked, “Are you still there?”

There was no response.

A gust of wind lifted some sand from a nearby ruined wall, making a rustling sound as it fell. Amidst the wind and sand, she heard a vague, intermittent familiar sound–ding, ding ding…

Fenna transferred her greatsword to her left hand and traced a familiar symbol in front of her chest with her right hand–she couldn’t remember the meaning of the symbol, but her body naturally performed the motion, seemingly a habit ingrained from long ago, a gesture of… blessing.

Then, with her sword in hand, she cautiously continued deeper into the city.

She wandered through the ruins for a long time, the city’s wide and complex roads seeming to have no end, with buildings and paths buried under yellow sands everywhere, the broken and collapsed structures still hinting at their exquisite beauty from the days of yore.

Suddenly, Fenna thought–perhaps this really was the most bustling and prosperous city in the world, with countless lives inside this great metropolis, and countless busy caravans weaving through the city, providing it with supplies and stories from all over the world.

But that was before it had been abandoned.

What exactly led to the desertion of such a thriving city? And when was it abandoned? And after all… why had she come here?

Fenna crossed an intersection, continuing forward with occasional, emerging questions, when she suddenly halted at a building.

Strange crackling noises came from the wind, followed by a piece of paper flying out of the sandy whirl, spinning past her eyes, with barely legible text on it.

Paper? Paper could still be preserved in this wind and sand?

Moved by a thought, her body reacted first–she grabbed the piece of paper that fluttered past her, then looked at its contents in astonishment.

It turned out to be a fragment of a newspaper, and although the upper part of it was already damaged, one could still see the words related to the newspaper’s heading. The lower part of the paper had many severely worn and eroded writings. After scrutinizing it for a while, Fenna found a relatively intact sentence:

“…a massive fire broke out in Pland, spreading from the Upper City District to the Lower City District, damaging many factories and blocks, with casualties among residents…”

Fenna stared blankly at the words on the paper as if they had been weathered through the years, her mind clouded with confusion. After a long while, she finally formed a question:

What is Pland?

The next second, she saw the newspaper scrap in her hand silently turn to yellow sand, scattering with the wind into the air.

Fenna stood still for a moment, brushed off the remaining sand from her hands, and then slowly walked forward.

After walking for a long time, she suddenly stopped in front of a building.

In the floating dust fog, the appearance of the building seemed quite abrupt – as if it had suddenly emerged from the sands, awkwardly standing amidst the piles of shattered and collapsed building debris around it, like a giant beast silently watching Fenna.

It was a small chapel with multiple spires; modest in size for a chapel, yet it exuded an air of solemnity.

It was clearly abandoned, with its outer walls spotty and cracked, doors and windows shattered and strewn about, roof tiles fallen, looking long-deserted, but compared to the completely collapsed ruins around it which were covered in sand, it at least maintained the integrity of its main structure. What caught Fenna’s attention, though, was the small flower bed in front of the chapel.

The flower bed was also damaged, containing only some plants long dead, but unbelievably, there wasn’t a grain of sand within it; even in this place of pervasive yellow sand and ceaseless chaotic winds, the flower bed remained spotlessly clean.

It was as if someone was still regularly tending to this broken flower bed and the withered plants inside.

Fenna paused in front of the flower bed, looked up at the dilapidated chapel, and after a brief hesitation, stepped forward.

The moment she crossed the threshold of the chapel’s main entrance, she felt a change occur – the eternal dry heat of the desert seemed to be isolated to another world, and the next second, she saw a brightly lit interior.

The inner part of the chapel, which appeared to have been abandoned for countless years from the outside, was inexplicably neat and tidy; its doors and roof were intact, and bright light illuminated the entire main hall. Rows of empty wooden benches neatly arranged in the hall, and at the end of the benches was a tall pulpit – light shone down from above the wooden pulpit, bathing it in a soft glow.

Fenna furrowed her brows, feeling that this place seemed vaguely familiar.

She had been here before, or at least had heard of this place.

But she couldn’t remember; she couldn’t even recall what her life was like before stepping into this endless desert.

She gripped her broadsword tightly, walked down the middle aisle of the hall, and after scanning the surrounding environment, she finally paused at a bench.

She had been traveling for too long, and she felt the need to sit and rest, even if only for a few minutes.

She sat down on the bench, and the old chair emitted a slight creaking sound; she let out a long breath, feeling her joints making a similar burdened creaking as if filled with sand.

Then, she suddenly heard a faint breathing sound.

There was a person sitting beside her.

Fenna turned her head abruptly.

It was a young nun dressed in a black church robe, looking to be about Fenna’s age–sitting quietly beside her, head bowed, as if in devout prayer.

A person! A visible, tangible person?!

Fenna had almost forgotten the last time she had seen “another person.” In all her memories, it seemed she had always been trekking across this never-ending journey, accompanied by nothing but sand and strange sounds; she had even begun to think that this world was supposed to be like this, and she herself was the only “human” in it, but now… she saw a person!

Excitement was irrepressible, yet a subtle sense of confusion and familiarity emerged within her heart, Fenna instinctively asked, “Are you…?”

“You’ve lingered here too long, sister,” the praying young nun suddenly looked up, cutting off Fenna’s words, her gaze calmly fixed on the latter, “Ashes, it’s easy to be assimilated by ashes.”