Chapter 24: Map
Wade sketched a rough map, extending outward from the cave as the center point.
Unable to determine directions by the setting sun, he used the cave entrance’s orientation as his reference point, marking three locations.
He picked up a finger bone from one of his skeletal brethren and drew an X in the box representing the first location.
That was the sandy area where skeletons emerged during the full moon—a danger zone.
He named it Skeleton Sands, having witnessed numerous skeletons crawling out from beneath the sand during the full moon.
The place resembled a battlefield ruin, most areas covered in gravel and ashes, with broken war banners visible along the edges.
Wade’s round-headed mace, small round shield, and burial shroud had been scavenged near those sands—likely discarded weapons from fallen soldiers.
Exploring the sands might yield treasures, but the risk of encountering enemies remained high.
Constant vigilance was necessary against ambushing skeletons and skeletal hands suddenly grasping at ankles from below.
Getting surrounded and caught in chaos would be troublesome.
Though Wade had improved his bodily control significantly—having sparred all night against Sven’s memory phantom to hone his skills—he still considered the sands too risky for now.
Better to explore there after gaining more strength and confidence.
Two boxes remained on his map. After careful consideration, Wade drew a question mark in the left box.
This marked where he’d found the scales—a place he’d slept once without incident.
He tentatively named it Nameless Ruins, referring to the remnants of destroyed structures, having spotted a few clearly man-made brick fragments there.
Artificial traces were scarce in Nameless Ruins—only occasional geometric stone blocks protruding from soil like iceberg tips.
Wade suspected most relics lay buried underground.
Excavation would prove difficult; anyone who’s dug holes knows each shovelful requires stomping the blade into stubborn earth.
Digging even a one-cubic-meter pit would be exhausting. Searching the ruins would be extraordinarily tedious.
First, Wade lacked a proper shovel. Second, randomly digging across vast ruins offered needle-in-haystack odds.
Not that success was impossible—with enough time and patience, discoveries seemed likely. Comparatively, this area was safer than Skeleton Sands.
But with magical tides currently surging outside, prolonged excursions were unwise. Better quick trips for now, hence the question mark. He’d reconsider when conditions stabilized.
Eliminating those two options left one final location.
Wade’s finger tapped rhythmically on the rightmost box. After deliberation, he designated this as his next exploration target.
Thorn Forest—his name for the third site.
While sunlight never reached this wasteland, plant-like growths still existed.
From elevated vantage points, one could see twisted, thorny brambles protruding from the barren soil.
Wade didn’t know their species, but anything surviving this harsh environment likely wasn’t ordinary vegetation—perhaps magical mutations from the energy tides.
They showed no aggression. Unlike adventurers’ tales of man-eating vines that actively attack, these thorns remained passive when Wade walked among them.
Their toughness impressed him. Testing their roots and spikes required substantial force—their density exceeded normal wood, nearing iron’s hardness.
When planning his home, Wade considered these thorns excellent building materials—if processable.
Lacking methods to work them initially, he’d settled for bones instead.
Though still lacking processing techniques, the thorns’ proven resilience—their long survival in this wasteland—confirmed their environmental adaptability.
Even if unprocessable into planks or beams, their natural strength could reinforce the cave.
Just mind the spikes—gather some thorny branches first to shore up the cavern’s structure. Details could be refined later.
Securing the cave was the absolute priority.
Proper structural reinforcement would eliminate Mia’s need to freeze sandy walls, conserving her energy.
Wade nodded, marking the third box with a check.
Thorn Forest it was—he’d visit this bramble-rich area, hopefully collecting naturally fallen thorn branches.
But first, the howling winds must cease. No expeditions until then.
Time to sleep.
Wade lay beside Mia and entered his dreams.
He arrived at the flaming chapel, seized his sword, and charged at Sven.
…
Flames roared as oak beams collapsed.
Wade bent his knees, lowering his stance.
A heavy blade flashed past as he dodged, raising his sword to deflect the next slash. Using precision over power, he redirected the attack’s momentum before dashing forward with a sliding strike aimed at Sven’s thigh.
The blade connected, cutting Sven’s right leg—but instantly, the Viking dropped his sword, massive hands eclipsing Wade’s vision.
Lifted bodily, Wade endured crushing punches.
Two hundred twenty-six defeats. Another night of dream combat ended in failure.
Though his progress was significant, outright victory against Sven remained distant.
Enough for today. Before leaving the dream, Wade examined the dice’s twenty-first face—red pigment had further soaked into the carved heart.
Confirming this progress, he ended his dormancy, awakening in the cave.
His first act was pressing against the cave wall.
The tremors had weakened; after two and a half days, the raging winds had finally stilled.
Mia sulkily headbutted the entrance stone, frustrated from confinement. Wade grabbed the little ghost, moved the rock, and crawled outside.
Standing up, only mild breezes stirred sand around his ankles.
Releasing his grip, Wade let the little ghost soar free.
Mia burst upward like a caged canary finally freed, looping through the air before settling atop Wade’s skull.
Scratching her chin, Wade turned to seal the cave with stones.
He climbed the nearby slope first, scanning all directions to confirm his bearings. Mace in hand, with the little ghost in tow, he set off rightward from the cave’s front.
Mia—experiencing her first outing—flitted around Wade like an excited picnic-goer.
To Wade, she resembled a kite on invisible strings, always returning when he reached out.