Chapter Fifty-Five: Crisis Within the Black Castle

Though Digao was an inland city, its annual rainfall was far from scant. Yet such an extravagant storm was a rarity, perhaps seen only once in decades; the intensity of the downpour nearly blinded all who beheld it.

At the entrance of the library stood a middle-aged man, his hair bristling beneath his hood, his long beard trailing down his chest. In his hand, a bubble appeared, swelling rapidly until it enveloped the entire library, warding off the lightning but letting the rain pass through.

Through the haze of the storm, Dolly approached the library, climbing its steps one by one. Today, he was not dressed in his customary male attire, but instead wore a pale blue gown. Around his less-than-flat chest hung a dazzling sapphire necklace, from which shimmering streams of light radiated.

His long hair danced wildly in the fierce wind and rain. The falling water clustered around him, as if the throne itself courted its queen. Dolly, once sharp and heroic, now exuded a seductive glamour.

“A sea sprite? You’ve come so deep into the mainland?”

“You may go to sea, so why can’t we come to land?”

Dolly intertwined his fingers over his chest and sang in a gentle, melodious voice.

“Mmm—ah~~~~”

With the first note, every window in the library shattered.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The wizard could not help but clutch his ears. The beautiful melody to him was agonizing, as if knives pierced his eardrums, even causing his mind to blur.

Thunder rumbled overhead. Dolly advanced without hesitation; lightning rained from the sky, striking the barrier around the library. Raindrops entering its domain seemed to turn into icy spears, blossoming into crystalline flowers along the library’s walls.

It was a power laden with oppressive force—a level rarely wielded by sea sprites, even at sea, and now unleashed inland.

But the wizard did not panic. In the mysterious world’s duels, fear was the most dangerous emotion. His bloodshot eyes fixed unwaveringly on the sea sprite before him. He slowly released his hands, letting blood streak down from his ears.

“Elemental spirits from the folds of space and time—weighty earth, nimble air, gentle water—I command you in the name of the wizard Valata: gather here, let chaos be the guide, let my will be the form…”

The wizard’s voice was calm at first, but as the resonance of the incantation deepened, it grew louder. Behind him, a phantom seemed to swell with the rising cadence, and Mulan, from his quarters, heard a thunderous roar different from the storm’s.

“I command you to descend—demon from the mire—”

The last word was stretched into a never-ending howl, his mouth agape as he issued a ceaseless roar.

The earth around the library surged with mud; a portion of the rainwater lost its control, joining the wind to converge upon the library.

A torrent of muddy water flowed across the grounds outside the library, and a humanoid figure, wings unfolding from its back, slowly took shape.

But Dolly did not even glance back. He had reached the edge of the barrier, extended his sharp-nailed hands, and drove them forward with force.

The wizard’s eyes widened in horror. Where Dolly’s hands touched, the barrier began to freeze.

Crackling, crackling…

The ice spread, and the initial spot began to fracture. Dolly’s hands broke through the barrier, and with a wrench to either side, tore open a gaping hole.

“Impossible! You can’t have such power, you—”

The wizard’s words faltered as he caught sight of the necklace on the sea sprite’s chest.

“A relic?”

Dolly sang softly, and in an instant was before the wizard. The wizard reacted swiftly, leaping back at the same moment, but already several icy spears had pierced him. His body dissolved into blackness and vanished before Dolly.

“Lost sailors~~~~come to me~~~~”

Dolly’s song echoed, ignoring the wizard entirely. Behind him, the rain transformed into a torrent, flooding the library. The entire hall and reading rooms were swept by raging waters, and Dolly advanced as if stepping upon the waves.

Countless shelves collapsed, innumerable books washed away. Many staff members clung to pillars and other fixtures, struggling desperately in the flood.

Within minutes, the waters receded, leaving the Black Castle Library in utter disarray—mud and debris everywhere. The staff, dazed, rose to their feet, only to see at the doorway a figure coated in mud, wings spread, fangs bared, seemingly exhilarated.

Screams and cries blended together, shrill and agonizing, though the storm muffled them from carrying far.

The Black Castle covered a vast area, with many buildings, but in truth, possessed few true supernaturals.

It was a peculiar era, one where industry and technology were in transition, as was the world of the supernatural. Extraordinary individuals had existed since ancient times, but their numbers were sparse. Even the old powers of Black Castle Deorga were large in scope but few in supernaturals—though they possessed a wealth of accumulated knowledge.

Now, however, mysterious elements were growing ever more active. The future’s trend was clear to many, so Black Castle continually sought new talent. Mulan was among the earliest of these, a pioneer in a system not yet fully formed, yet who witnessed its creation firsthand.

During his time in Black Castle, Mulan rarely encountered those who had truly crossed into the supernatural. He mostly saw staff and laborers, as well as a few with potential like himself—though many of these suffered mental strain or even erosion after contact with magical tomes, and were soon sent away.

When the storm’s tumult reached its peak, things gradually settled, and the lightning returned to normal.

Mulan was boarding up several broken windows with planks and stools when he heard a sharp, anguished scream from afar, causing his hands to pause. It came from the direction of two brothers who had only moved in a week ago.

He stood motionless by the window, listening intently to the sounds outside.

“Ah… help…”

A cry for help was abruptly cut off, but even so, it made Mulan’s heart skip—a sense of ominous unease seemed to spread.

‘Dolly’s doing?’

Mulan gently set down the stool, picked up his staff, opened the cellar door, and tiptoed inside, closing it quietly behind him.

He then recalled the knowledge of the Resurrector’s path, employing its fundamental resonance.

I am about to die. My breath has ceased, my heartbeat slows, my limbs stiffen—but I know death is not the end, only another beginning…

Thump, thump, thump… thump… thump…

Mulan lay in the corner of the cellar, his heartbeat slowing until it stopped.

By resonating with the Resurrector’s path, Mulan became, for a brief moment, a corpse. Yet his consciousness did not fully fade; a fragment of awareness lingered.

Bang!

Something toppled above, dishes crashed, beds scraped across the floor, windows shattered. After more than a minute, all was silent.

But Mulan did not break the resonance or revive himself. With his current constitution—and especially the spirit he had absorbed earlier—he could maintain the corpse-state for days without truly dying.