Chapter 32: Sword Radiance

Digging up the water reservoir required tools.  

Wade’s hands were empty, so he could only look for something useful in the nearby houses.  

He arrived at a stone house. The door was unlocked, and the wooden door creaked as the wind pushed it back and forth.  

Honestly, an empty village made him feel inexplicably tense.  

A place that was too quiet and abnormal made one uneasy, as if a monster could suddenly crawl out from somewhere.  

Well, Wade actually looked a lot like that monster.  

If any passing merchant or civilian saw a skeleton breaking into a house and rummaging through it, and on top of that, all the villagers had mysteriously disappeared, they might scream in terror and run away immediately.  

That would be quite amusing.  

Imagining that scene, Wade pushed open the wooden door.  

Sunlight shone in from the sunny doorway, and dust floated inside the wooden house.  

The first thing he saw was a hearth used for heating and cooking. It was a square pit dug a bit into the ground, with unburnt charcoal piled beneath a hanging stew pot.  

On both sides of the hearth were wooden benches. He stepped over that area and entered the bedroom, finding a gray robe hanging on the wall, which he put on.  

Wearing the gray robe, from a distance it was not easy to tell he was a skeleton.  

Although the chance of anyone being around here was very low, Wade still prepared a disguise.  

A skeleton moving about in human territory had to be cautious and could not afford carelessness.  

After putting on the hood, he casually wandered around the house and picked up a pair of flint stones for making fire and some grass ropes.  

The villagers had all left, taking what they could carry with them. What was left behind naturally became ownerless property that Wade could take freely.  

He scavenged everywhere—skinning knives, scissors for cutting, needles and thread, rolling pins… He found many small items.  

Most of them were useless, but he still sorted them out.  

After rummaging for a while, he only took the flint stones, the knife, and the grass ropes.  

He felt these three items could be useful. Especially the knife—having a small knife meant he could survive in the wilderness.  

After scavenging the house, he went to the livestock shed and found a dirt shovel.  

The sword was buried five meters deep in the water reservoir. Digging it out would not be easy.  

Even if it took several days of digging, Wade did not want to give up on that sword.  

But he hoped not to waste too much time. After all, he still did not know how long he could stay active on the snowfield.  

Last time, he was active for at most an hour or two.  

He didn’t feel any sign of awakening; it was an accident that caused him to die once and then wake up from the wasteland.  

This time coming to the snowfield, he didn’t sense any time limit for his activity.  

Maybe the active time was very long. He also wanted to test it—to see how long he could last if he didn’t suffer a catastrophic blow.  

It shouldn’t be permanent. He set a time limit in his heart.  

The dice took ten days to recharge, so he guessed he might be able to stay active outside for ten days.  

It was better to have some urgency. Using ten days as the standard, he would explore as much as possible.  

The goal was to figure out where he was, ideally get a map, and if there was time, find out what year it was.  

He didn’t know how long he had been in the wasteland. Maybe a long time had passed?  

The people he knew might all be dead.  

Who knew?  

He decided to focus on the immediate task. Wade stood above the water reservoir and found the spot where he and Sven had fallen before, moving aside the collapsed stones and wood.  

He picked up the shovel and started digging. No one disturbed him; only a little ghost occasionally floated by.  

Speaking of which, Wade saw in Sven’s memories the place where the pirates had parked their sleds when they landed.  

Sven’s pirate group had already been wiped out. Wade had killed twenty-three of them. Some pirates had been surrounded and beaten to death by angry villagers. The remaining pirates were less than half. Even if they escaped, they could at most take away one sled.  

There was still a sled parked in the original place, and inside it, there should be some good stuff.  

Like iron armor, crossbow bolts, leather clothes, boots. After digging up the longsword, he would try his luck there.  

While pondering this, Wade kept digging the hole.  

The sun rose to the top of the sky. He had dug two or three meters deep, breaking through the hard permafrost layer.  

At this pace, he would soon be able to dig up the sword.  

Once he dug through here, he could dive into the water to retrieve the sword.  

That was what he originally thought, but when he wanted to dig further, he suddenly encountered a problem.  

The tip of the shovel brought up dirt and a layer of ice chips. After breaking the permafrost layer, there was actually solid ice underneath.  

The weather was too cold, and the reservoir had frozen solid.  

Wade leaned on the shovel and scratched his head, wondering if he should switch to a hammer to break the ice.  

That seemed quite troublesome…  

Was there another way?  

Light a fire and melt the ice?  

Fire…  

Right, he almost forgot.  

In the wasteland, he had no way to start a fire. He hadn’t had a chance to use his combat skills once. But now was different. He had flint stones and plenty of wood.  

Perfect to try.  

Wade went out again to find an axe. He chopped the unburnt wood from the collapsed house into pieces and threw them into the hole he had dug.  

He used sheep fodder grass to kindle the fire, striking the flint stones to spark.  

It was a process that required patience. Lighting a fire with flint stones was far less convenient than with a fire piston. Without experience, failure was easy.  

But Wade felt something special when starting the fire.  

It was truly strange—the sparks seemed to have life.  

He easily ignited the fire. The sparks landed on the dry grass, instantly setting it ablaze. Then the flames danced and spread to the wood.  

The fire quickly grew, releasing heat and light.  

Wade slowly realized this was his first time using “Starfire.” He seemed to be able to control the flow of the flames.  

He imagined the fire gathering on the ice layer, then the fire really pressed down, burning the solid ice.  

Black smoke drifted into the sky. Wade kept adding wood into the hole.  

Soon, the entire collapsed reservoir was burning. Everything that could burn had turned flame-colored.  

In a short time, the gathered heat melted the ice layer below.  

Some wood touched the water and was extinguished, while some burned above. But soon, the flowing fire sprayed toward the water surface and was put out like the wind.  

Wade no longer needed the fire, so he let it die out.  

He first sent Mia into the water to find the sword’s location. The little ghost was more agile underwater than he was.  

After waiting for Mia to find the longsword and send back her thoughts, Wade took off his robe and plunged into the water with a splash.  

He swam downward, using Mia as a lighthouse, reaching the bottom.  

The faint light emitted by the ghost illuminated the cold gleam of the blade. Wade reached out and grasped the sword’s hilt.  

The shimmering ripples on the water’s surface spread outward. A skeleton emerged, holding the longsword high.  

Under the sunlight, the sword’s body reflected a unique metallic luster. Its radiance was heavy yet sharp.  

Wade thought to himself, this was indeed a rare fine sword.