057 Buried Memories of the Past

The Chapter of Forbidden Magic, the Seal of Magic—masterpieces wrought by god-tier alchemists, a blessing for all living creatures. Its history reaches back to the distant, ancient era when the laws of heaven and earth were in turmoil, and epic heroes emerged in abundance! The creation of the Chapter of Forbidden Magic is exceedingly difficult, yet its replication is not; as long as there are sufficient materials, even the most novice alchemist can reproduce it—greatly enhancing its prevalence and thereby safeguarding the wellbeing of all beings.
—Excerpt from “Teresa’s Alchemy Journal”

She ran through the darkness, daring neither to pause nor to look back. She knew that behind her, a horde of insatiably ravenous “things” were driving her onward, pursuing her relentlessly, waiting only for her to falter or make a mistake—then they would surge forth and devour her utterly!

She had to run; she must run! If caught, she would be plundered, torn apart, and consumed just like the other “spirits,” eventually erased from existence altogether!

She had no idea how long she’d been running, but she never tired, nor could she afford to tire. The moment fatigue or weariness took hold, she would become prey for those greedy beings.

The darkness seemed endless; she dashed forward with wild abandon, directionless, guided only by instinct. Suddenly, a streak of light cut through the silent gloom—a long-awaited light, warm and full of vitality!

Behind her, she heard waves of panic, delight, fear, hesitation—but she felt no such uncertainty. She pivoted and flung herself into the radiant glow…

Teresa’s eyes snapped open. Her vision was awash in blood-red hues; only after a while did the crimson gradually recede, and the pale yellow of the canopy overhead came into view. At the same time, her other senses slowly returned—she saw Betty’s gentle, worried face, heard Betty’s soft, comforting voice, smelled the soothing fragrance filling the room, felt Betty’s hand holding hers, and Betty’s gentle, reassuring pats.

“Aunt…” Teresa murmured, her heart suddenly softened. She turned her head, pressing Betty’s hand between her cheek and the pillow, caressing it gently.

Betty, soothing her like a small child, patted her lightly and smiled, “You’re awake! Do you want something to eat? There’s porridge, noodles, pastries. You’ve been sleeping for so long, you must be hungry. I’ve had them bring everything. Take a look and see what you’d like.”

Betty’s words made Teresa aware of her own hunger. Her eyelids drooped as she quietly counted—she had indeed slept nearly twenty hours. No wonder her stomach had long been protesting. She nodded.

Without needing Betty’s instructions, the waiting servant swiftly headed out to relay the message. Soon, another servant pushed a food cart into the room, laden with a full spread. Betty helped Teresa sit up, chatting with her about food, never mentioning the events in the ruins. This brought Teresa a sense of relief, and she devoured nearly half the cart in one go…

…

The consequence of such an appetite was, inevitably, indigestion…

Teresa, suffering from indigestion, dared not stay in bed. Accompanied by Betty, she got up and walked about.

They were still within the bounds of the Northwestern Icefield, though no longer on the front lines but retreated to the third line—a camp roughly equivalent in status to the Arca Camp. However, this camp was of a higher grade, and the amenities were far superior. Talents like the Aubryon family could claim an entire cottage for themselves—houses reserved for military officers. In Arca Camp, such arrangements were impossible due to limited funds.

Betty supported the still weak Teresa as they slowly stepped out of the cottage. Sunshine bathed them, warm and gentle, and Teresa suddenly felt she had escaped with her life—the nightmares that plagued her were not mere dreams but echoes of a once-lived reality…

As they walked, Teresa asked Betty about the current situation. Since the accident in the ruins, which cost three alchemists and two soldiers, the wounded had been immediately evacuated, Teresa among them. Overwhelmed by mental exhaustion, Teresa fell into a deep sleep halfway through, and for the next several days drifted in and out of consciousness until now, when she could finally get out of bed and move about.

“Actually, everything was resolved the day your group had the mishap,” Betty said calmly. “The three masters agreed—the ‘Chapter of Forbidden Magic’ was the source of the anomaly. The ruins were originally the resting place of an ancient elf. Someone used the magic source sustaining the ‘Imprisonment Spell’ to activate the Chapter, spreading its magical aura, which stirred the icefield’s beasts to unusual agitation. Once the Chapter was resealed and sent to the Empire, the desecrated ruins were handled by Twilight herself, and the elf’s remains were escorted by the military to the Land of Nature, so she may finally find peace there.”

At this, Betty paused, produced a delicate ring from her bosom, and handed it to Teresa. “This is your reward for participating in the expedition. The three masters were very pleased with you. Master Twilight also said that the documents will have a duplicate placed in the old manor’s library—if you’re interested, you may browse them anytime.”

Teresa’s eyes sparkled as she accepted the ring. Its polished band seemed ordinary, but when she probed it with her mental power, she sensed subtle, uneven traces upon it—marks left by magical runes. This was an alchemical ring! The array inscribed upon it exceeded Teresa’s understanding, signifying it was at least a level nine alchemical ring!

Alchemical items’ grades correspond to their creators: every three levels of alchemical items equate to one level of alchemist. A first-level alchemist can craft items of levels one, two, and three; unless under special circumstances, they cannot create items beyond their grade. For instance, if someone can reliably produce level four items, they qualify as a second-level alchemist—and so forth.

Finding the ring’s activation point with her mental power, Teresa felt her mind blur for an instant, then sensed a tiny storage space—the ring was a storage ring!

Though the space was less than one cubic meter, for Teresa it was a wondrous surprise!

A spatial item! Any spatial item is at least a level fifteen alchemical artifact—meaning only fifth- or sixth-level alchemists can craft them. The main material, Voidstone, is exceedingly rare, so even the smallest spatial item commands astronomical prices!

Once, someone posted a one-thousand-gold bounty for a basic spatial item at the Adventurers’ Guild in Cervantes—such is their value!

Teresa’s ring could easily be worth three thousand gold! Most crucially, spatial items are not something money alone can buy!

Overflowing with excitement, Teresa immediately slipped the ring onto her finger, gazing at the pale golden circle at its base, grinning ear to ear—she had truly struck it rich!

☆☆☆

Night had fallen, and the icefield nights were always tranquil—so quiet that even the faintest breath sounded piercingly loud. On a bed draped with gauzy curtains, a slender figure tossed restlessly, each turn accompanied by a low moan. From the fragmented murmurs, one could guess she was trapped in a nightmare. Suddenly, as if fleeing something within the dream, she rolled violently and tumbled from the bed, landing with a soft thud on the carpet, thankfully unharmed.

Teresa awoke from the nightmare, drenched in cold sweat, her body trembling with lingering terror. She whispered shakily, “Lights.”

The room filled with a gentle, orange glow, warm and comforting, fostering a sense of safety. Teresa pulled her robe down from the bedside to wrap herself, limbs weak, and staggered toward the bathroom—

As hot water cascaded over her head, her dark hair plastered thickly to her scalp; as the steaming water flowed over her shoulders and body, gradually warming her chilled form, Teresa finally felt truly alive, as if returned to the mortal realm. She raised her head to meet the stream, her mind involuntarily replaying scenes from the dream—

In the dream, she had no physical form, endlessly cycling through the bodies of various creatures—sometimes human, sometimes beast, sometimes strange and intelligent lifeforms. Each vision was fractured, impossible to connect, each possession a torment, each release equally agonizing. She repeated this cycle of suffering, unable to escape.

She knew these were not her memories, but those belonging to a phantom—a phantom known as a Void Demon…

Void Demons, beings without substance, mere illusions—they delight in luring living creatures to call them forth, then attach themselves, feeding on their emotions and souls… Only those with powerful mental strength can resist a Void Demon’s invasion!

She knew all this because, once upon a time, she nearly became a Void Demon herself—a being whose very existence was denied…

Fear made her shudder unconsciously, but the hot water brought her back to reality. She shook her head vigorously, slapped her cheeks, pinched the flesh at her jaw to force a smile. She told herself: she was human, always human! (To be continued)