Chapter 99: Restart

When it came to making weapons and armor, there were no experts among the souls. They simply copied what they had seen before.  

Since the day before yesterday, all fifty-three spears had been completed. The helmets and chest armors still required time, and the materials were not sufficient.  

Wade did not plan to frequently venture outside the fortress anymore. It had already been eighteen days since his last return, and one-third of the Blood Moon remained.  

At this rate, in about twenty more days, the Blood Moon would vanish like a lunar eclipse.  

The outside light was growing dimmer, and visibility was decreasing.  

That feeling was unsettling. He paused his external explorations and focused on defense.  

After eighteen days, Wade believed the Taniye people who traveled with him had likely reached a safe place.  

He could sense that slender thread—the thread that spanned space and distance—that was Lucas’s lifeline.  

Lucas Porter was still alive in this world. That man had sworn that after his death, his soul would return to Wade’s side.  

Since he was still alive, it meant he had probably succeeded in bringing the Mist Stone.  

The gnomes and Taniye people should have used the Mist Stone to cross through the Icelanders’ front line and reached safety.  

Wade wondered how things were outside. He wanted to see Yulia Silvermoon one more time.  

That silver-haired elf carrying the lute surely knew something.  

She said she came following the prophet’s prediction.  

“When starlight rises in the northern land, I will find hope to return to my homeland.”  

Could it be true that someone could foresee events before they happened?  

Was there truly a prophecy that those souls trapped by the necromancers would be freed by him?  

Wade’s curiosity about Yulia Silvermoon grew immensely. The elf carried badges resembling those of the Crimson Scholars—two of them.  

She said they would meet again someday, so he decided to go outside and take a look.  

If the Wasteland was truly the elf’s homeland, and if she really wished to return, then she needed a way to reach that wasteland.  

Coincidentally, Wade wanted to leave the Wasteland and return to the outside world.  

One wanted to come, the other wanted to leave; their goals were essentially the same. Both wanted to find a way to connect this subspace with the outside world.  

After patrolling his fortress, Wade returned to his bedroom and lay down on the stone bed.  

The stone door of the bedroom was closed. He entered the pure white space, pulled Mia inside, and stepped out through the door before him.  

Having crossed the door three times, he was already familiar with the feeling.  

In the tranquil forest, a skeleton slowly awakened.  

Wade looked up. The pine branches bowed under the weight of snow, blocking the moonlight.  

He appeared in the forest where he had disappeared last time. Eighteen days had passed since he last came to the outside world.  

It was deep night, with a new moon hanging in the black sky.  

No living presence was sensed nearby. Wade looked at the snow-covered hillside and scratched his head.  

Indeed, Lucas would have no reason to leave his iron helmet and iron sword in the snow.  

Most likely, he took the helmet and sword he found from the pirates. Wade didn’t know where they had been placed.  

Wade stood naked in the snow, thinking that maybe he should break off a pine branch first to make do—having a staff to tap someone was better than nothing.  

Or perhaps he should first visit the Icelanders’ camp to steal some equipment?  

Wade pondered and climbed higher.  

He reached a cliff’s edge. This place was close to Alvado, and from the high ground, he could overlook the distant town.  

The Icelanders’ warships still docked by the Prague River; they had not left and their numbers had increased.  

Wade saw fires burning in the houses of the town. They had occupied those buildings, seemingly treating Alvado, a key transportation hub, as their logistics base.  

More people stood guard around the camp and ships. The Icelanders no longer showed the previous laxness but strictly defended the camp.  

The previous accident had dealt them heavy losses.  

A fifth circle necromancer was killed by outsiders. They failed to capture the invaders. Their loose vigilance had caused a serious setback.  

Only after suffering a lesson would people correct their mistakes.  

The Icelanders finally set up strict defenses. Even at night, many squads patrolled and stood guard.  

There were not only guards but also tall watchtowers built.  

These were wooden towers piled from pine wood, with no ladders to climb. Winged creatures perched atop like birds.  

From the distance, Wade could not clearly see the exact appearance of these creatures.  

He only saw a pair of bat-like black wings, resembling demons or gargoyles controlled by the mages.  

He had to get closer to know what they really were. After eighteen days, the Icelanders’ elite forces had likely arrived at the front line. It was possible that high-level mages and demons were present in the camp now.  

After all, this was a carefully planned invasion war. As the invading side, they would not dare to start a war without thorough preparation.  

Wade abandoned the idea of wandering around the camp. His available time was already precious; there was no reason to risk his life in the Icelanders’ camp.  

Moreover, he reasoned that after crossing the door, he always appeared at the location where his complete body last disappeared.  

The first time, his body was destroyed by a fireball from a little ghost but left half an arm in a village alley, so he appeared in that alley.  

The second time, he disappeared in the forest and appeared in the same spot.  

If he were eliminated in the Icelanders’ camp, he would likely reappear in the same place next time.  

That could become a dead end—appearing and being destroyed repeatedly, completely losing the chance to explore outside.  

After all, he was just a insignificant skeleton. Even if he broke through to Silver-rank, he was still a trivial skeleton.  

In the war between nations, demons, and true gods, he could not change anything.  

Wade knew the difference between courage and recklessness. He turned and walked toward the mountains, away from the Icelanders’ camp.  

He had no plans to go to York’s warehouse either. He thought of a better place to go where he wouldn’t worry about others’ footsteps. It should take him about two days to reach it.  

However, he still wanted a sword or some weapon for self-defense. In the wild, he might encounter wild monsters.  

As this thought crossed his mind, Mia suddenly released magic toward the snowy ground ahead.  

Wade saw the snow gather, shaped like when Mia created an ice puppet, condensing into ice.  

A round-headed mace made of solid ice appeared on the ground, identical to the one Wade used in the Wasteland. Mia had restored it using ice and snow.  

Wade picked up the ice hammer. Although it was made of ice, it contained magic, with patterns like those on the surface of a golem appearing on the ice hammer.  

He struck the rock before him with the ice hammer. The collision shattered the black stone, leaving only a tiny white mark on the hammer.  

Those patterns seemed to be magical runes with reinforcement enchantments. Because the material was ice, the infused magic was limited. It was not as good as a quality steel or iron sword but was enough as a temporary weapon.  

Wade held the iron hammer and, accompanied by the little ghost, set off north.  

He crossed the mountains and passed through Creek Forest.  

This time, he did not wait for anyone and marched straight day and night. The next day, he arrived at the Klavi mountain path.  

The village of Bronte below the mountain path was still dead silent. The Icelanders rarely used this route; they preferred sailing waterways.  

The raven flocks in the village had dispersed. The corpses, gnawed by the ravens, were only remnants now.  

Wade came alone to this village. Everywhere still bore signs of devastation. After a month and a half, the scene was still shocking.  

Wade found the undead little dog. It still waited beside its master, lying in that narrow stone alley, as if asleep.  

Its rotting flesh had all fallen off, leaving a pure white skeleton.  

Wade did not disturb it. He came to the village plaza and flipped his palm.  

The Miracle Card appeared in his hand. He turned it to the side painted with the swordsman.  

In an instant, fifty-three figures holding wooden spears appeared in the plaza.  

Wade led the skeletons to lift the broken bodies. The souls in these corpses had long departed.  

They placed all the bodies they could find in the plaza. The villagers still had much firewood in their houses—cut for winter fuel.  

Wade and the skeletons surrounded the bodies with the firewood. He ignited the fire and controlled the flames with Starfire’s power.  

The dead bodies turned to ashes in the great blaze. Wade released his summoning, and the skeletons disappeared beside him.  

No one would come to bury these dead, nor would anyone mourn them at their graves.  

When the snow melted, their bodies would continue to rot.  

This great fire burned away the stench. Those mutilated, gnawed, and chopped bodies turned into the same ash.  

The wind scattered the sparks, and the ashes of the dead flew away with the wind.  

Wade passed through the Klavi mountain path without looking back, walking straight ahead.  

After another day’s journey, at dawn, he passed the deserted small village and arrived at the frozen riverbank. Pushing aside the bushes,  

a snow sled covered with white snow appeared before him. More than twenty days had passed, and this sled still quietly lay forgotten in this deserted corner.