Chapter 165: A Young Consciousness

The sun rose high until it was noon, its scorching rays beating down relentlessly. After the initial wave of imps attacked, more low-level demons gradually flew in. Their numbers were small, totaling no more than fifty. The Fairy Dragon’s breath had annihilated all demons and monsters near the edge of the demon tide, so these newcomers had come from farther away.

After eliminating the first wave of imps, Wade opened the door and deployed ten Silver Moon Elf skeletons and thirty archer skeletons to guard the cliff’s edge, shooting down any approaching demons. Their elevated position made defending relatively easy. However, the true credit went to the bone dragon’s earlier purge of demons. Under normal circumstances during a demon tide, countless imps and lesser demons would swarm toward them every minute – an endless tide that would eventually overwhelm them.

Wade deeply understood now what the phenomenon called “demon tide” truly meant. He sat beside the bone dragon, gazing at the scale that no longer glowed. Like the consciousness within the scale, he felt exhausted. It had been ages since he’d felt this weary – he longed to collapse on the ground and sleep. But he couldn’t. He had to guard the Dragon Bones until the elves arrived.

After half a day, Yulia finally appeared before Wade. “My apologies for the delay, sir,” the elf said, lifting her skirt slightly in a curtsy. “We must act quickly now, or the Flame Demon will notice us again.” Wade nodded and handed her the emblem.

Yulia opened the door, and the Dragon Bones and undead on the highland gradually became translucent. Using magic, she transported them all to the underground ruins plaza before closing the door. She exhaled deeply and pressed a hand to her forehead. Finally, they could catch their breath.

Now within the sealed subspace, even with the Brand of Slaughter the Flame Demon had placed on her, it couldn’t reach her here. At least during the early stages of the demon tide, the Flame Demon couldn’t harm her while she remained in her ancestral homeland. Her tense nerves finally relaxed – for over a year she’d been fleeing the Flame Demon’s pursuit, often sleeping in wilderness and dense forests, rarely getting a full night’s rest.

Though she’d lived this nomadic life for countless years, five epochs had passed. After millennia, she’d finally returned to her homeland. This moment held unique significance for her. She gazed up at the hollowed-out temple where crimson moonlight streamed through. Memories flooded back – the once pure white sacred temple now lay in ruins. Her homeland was no longer what she remembered, and a lonely feeling washed over her like standing alone on a desolate island gazing at the sea.

The first wave of the demon tide had paused, the Prophet’s visions had ended. No more guidance came, and she’d fulfilled her obsession by returning home. But where should she go now? She couldn’t fathom what meaning her life still held. Silver Moon Elves didn’t die naturally, yet some chose to return to the Divine Tree and Dragon God when they lost purpose. That had been her plan too – she’d only wanted to return home to be buried with those she loved and the land she cherished.

Yet the Prophet had left a glimmer of hope, and she’d come to understand why her King Father and Queen Mother had sent her away. At least let her see how this hope played out before deciding her fate. With these thoughts, she turned to the undead leader. “Sir, may I stay with you temporarily?”

The expressionless skeleton raised a wooden placard painted with a smiling face. “Welcome.” The juxtaposition of the terrifying skull holding such an incongruously cheerful sign made the elf chuckle unexpectedly. “Thank you for accepting me.”

The little ghost floated up to peer at her curiously. “Hello, little one,” the elf said with a slight bow. The ghost suddenly darted away, hiding between the skeleton’s ribs. After a few seconds of mutual staring, she emerged and clumsily imitated the elf’s bow. The elf smiled, then led the undead back to the underground fortress.

Wade placed the scale in the cultivation chamber. The fortress had many rooms; they cleared out a clean one and fashioned a crude bed from stone and wood for the elf. Both Wade and the elf were utterly exhausted. Rest first – only with rest could they handle what came next.

Wade lay on his stone bed as the soul fire in his eye sockets dimmed, entering complete relaxation. His consciousness sank into darkness – now he could choose whether to enter that white space. In sleep, he released his fatigue.

Wade found himself in a small boat surrounded by dense fog, floating across deep waters toward an unknown destination. No one rowed, yet the waters carried the boat forward slowly. Looking down, he saw he wasn’t in skeletal form – his semi-transparent body lacked a left arm and leg. This was his soul’s shape. Touching his mouth, he attempted speech. “Hel…lo…” The words came out haltingly but intelligible.

Reaching the boat’s edge, Wade dipped his right hand into the water. He felt the liquid flow but no temperature. This place felt familiar yet unremembered. As the boat progressed, the fog thinned, revealing a small island ahead – tiny enough to see end-to-end. The boat stopped at its shore.

Thin mist gathered around his missing limbs, forming temporary replacements. Standing with these mist-limbs, he saw his reflection in the water and stared blankly before stepping onto grassy land. Ahead stood a tall apple tree at the island’s center, its branches heavy with fruit, the ground littered with fallen apples.

There, beneath the tree, sat a barefoot girl in a white dress. She had silver hair and pointed ears like a Silver Moon Elf, but her eyes held vertical slit pupils. Wade crouched beside her as they both examined a fallen apple. The girl glanced at him, picked up the apple, wiped it on her sleeve, and offered it. “Want some?”

“Thank you.” Wade bit into the bright red apple – crisp and juicy in texture but completely flavorless, just an empty imitation. “Is it good?” the girl asked. Wade took another bite and shook his head. “What does a real apple taste like?” “Sweet and sour.” “What’s sweet and sour like?” “Hard to explain. You have to taste it.” “But I can only see through Mother’s memories. I can’t taste anything.”

The girl picked up another apple and bit into it expressionlessly. Her words carried a naive innocence that suddenly made Wade realize who she was – the new consciousness born within the scale. She was the newborn Fairy Dragon.