Chapter 110 In the Mist [The Key to the Future]
Chapter 110 In the Mist (6) [The Key to the Future]
The four-person team immediately sprang into action, cautiously but quickly moving towards the direction of the moving white dot in their minds.
Their journey was not easy.
The ice and snow underfoot were intertwined, making each step a struggle between deep and shallow ones.
The surrounding mist seemed to flow yet not flow, thick like stringy cheese, and the aftertaste was close to that of a swamp.
The only light sources for everyone were the amulets and gem pendants; further away was a hazy, ambiguous chaos.
But the white dots in my mind, like lighthouses in the darkness, steadily guided my way.
It was because of this that they were able to avoid some dangers that were almost head-on.
Through the churning, slightly unnatural-looking fog, they vaguely "knew" that many unidentified creatures lurked deeper within.
Crawling on tree trunks, crouching among branches and leaves, gathering in low bushes... the unfriendly creatures emit a low hissing sound.
At the edge of his field of vision, on the branches "extending" from the mist, George had caught a fleeting glimpse of these creatures, monsters resembling giant locusts, with serrated legs that gleamed red and sharp teeth that were saturated with blood.
Even more chilling is that it is holding clusters of egg cases, with a translucent membrane wriggling on the surface.
These monsters appear to be laying eggs.
George felt as if he were experiencing a hot, sticky, and noisy summer night—even though the surroundings were actually freezing cold.
Fortunately, the snowy owl provided guidance. The path it chose seemed to possess some kind of peculiar "exemption".
Those seemingly crowded, ferocious swarms of insects would eerily quiet down or move away in the opposite direction when people approached, like water flowing around stubborn rocks.
The four dared not be careless, maintaining a vigilant formation and closely following the guide as they traversed the unpredictable forest.
After walking for about fifteen minutes, the fishy, sweet smell in the air suddenly became stronger.
The snowy owl landed again, this time landing on a weathered rock half-buried in the snow.
George followed its golden gaze.
We've reached the lake shore.
Even amidst the thick, impenetrable fog, the frozen surface of the decaying lake still radiated a unique, cold light.
However, at this moment, more shadows lingered on the open ground where the lake shore met the woods.
The four men lay prone behind a patch of frozen bushes and began to observe.
George squinted, channeling his spiritual energy to enhance his vision.
They still had long, slender insect legs that stretched into the mysterious heights, but they merely lingered, without becoming violent.
George guessed that this was near the Night's Watch's house, but how to get through these monsters was also a problem.
His voice couldn't withstand the [Heterogeneous Melody] a second time, so why risk using the flute in his pocket? Who knows how effective it would be?
Moreover, it's difficult to guarantee that all the nymphs here can be dealt with in one go.
After observing for a while, Bates finally spoke up.
"They're surrounding us, but they don't seem to be attacking immediately."
Just then, a flash of light appeared in the direction of the house.
A flash of light briefly illuminated the outline of a mantis monster before dissipating into the thick fog.
Everyone held their breath and watched, but they didn't hear any sound and didn't know what had happened.
"What is this?" Elliott asked. "A signal?"
George shook his head, drawing upon his spiritual senses to try and find familiar traces in the fog.
Two more bursts of fire erupted from the direction of the house, and the monster's shadow in the fog seemed to lessen in the silence.
Just then, the cry of a snowy owl broke the silence, and George turned around to see a familiar white figure flying toward him.
Before he could react, the owl jumped onto his shoulder.
The bird's feathers touched George's shoulder, but he felt no weight, as if the bird were just an illusion—though the rustling of the feathers on his shoulder was indeed clearly audible.
He slowly reached out to the grass sprouting from the nearby snow, about to break off a blade to poke the owl.
The snowy owl's golden, round eyes met his. The next instant, George felt himself being inserted into an extremely thin glass tube.
The next moment, George felt himself being inserted into an extremely thin glass tube.
The intense, all-encompassing pressure made him feel as if he had been forced into becoming a soft-bodied creature in an instant.
Fortunately, the tube disappeared after only one heartbeat's time.
George found himself standing clean and refreshed in the middle of an open space.
The surrounding fog was no longer the silent, heavy mist it had been; now it was a light, flowing, milky-white haze.
The light came from all directions, but had no clear source, as if the entire space was self-illuminating.
Beneath his feet lay pitch black, the material of which he couldn't discern. If it weren't for the fact that it allowed him to stand upright, George would have suspected that it was actually a flat surface of water.
It's unusually quiet here.
What his senses failed to discern, his feelings told George that the place did not belong to the material world, but rather leaned towards the realm of dreams.
He looked around and saw that the milky white fog suddenly stopped twenty meters away, leaving the area inside quite empty.
When he turned around, a black figure appeared in the center of the open space.
George's heart clenched; he recognized the silhouette.
Tall shadows, dark and matte, with blurred outlines.
But this time the oppressive gaze disappeared, replaced by a feeling he couldn't quite describe.
Sadness? Nostalgia? Anticipation? Or perhaps all of the above?
George was almost certain: this was the mother of the three siblings, Edrina de la Poll.
George remained calm and strode forward.
One step, two steps, three steps.
The shadowy figure didn't move, but George could sense that it was observing him.
As he approached a certain distance, the shadowy figure reacted for the first time—it took a step back.
George stopped in his tracks.
"You are—my mother?" he asked.
Here, the sound was exceptionally clear to his own ears.
The shadowy figure did not answer, but its outline became even more blurred.
"You guided me, didn't you?" George continued, "The warning in that letter, the lunar code, the diamond key—you've been protecting me, giving me clues."
The shadowy figure retreated again.
This time, George heard a familiar female voice.
It didn't come from any particular direction; it resonated directly deep within his consciousness.
Clear and gentle, yet carrying a distant sorrow:
My memories are the key to your future.
Just as George was about to ask further questions, the shadow vanished.
A blurring of vision followed, the black lines of the brushstrokes fading from the edges, revealing a hazy, pure white mist behind them.
"Wait!" George instinctively took a step forward. "What are you trying to tell me? What memories? What about Father?"
But the shadowy figure had completely disappeared.
All that remained on the open ground was the billowing white mist and George's own slightly rapid breathing.
His question remained unanswered.
Just as he was preparing to try to explore this strange, foggy space further, that feeling returned.
Narrow passage.
Consciousness is compressed, senses are stretched, and light and shadow recede rapidly.
This "teleportation" was even shorter than before, almost instantaneous.