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墨書 Inktalez
In the wilderness where dawn had yet to arrive, the last fragment of Bronze dissolved into dust in the wind.
The entity once known as the "Puppet Master" had quietly vanished, without a grand battle or a brilliant self-detonation.
It was as if some higher-dimensional eraser had gently wiped it from history, leaving even the traces of its devastation fading rapidly.
The collapsed mountains seemed to possess a self-repairing ability; the fractured rocks gradually closed up, and the mountain regained its stability.
The dead vegetation appeared to be granted new life, with tender green shoots breaking through the withered branches and leaves, showcasing vibrant vitality.
Even the memories of the cultivators regarding this catastrophe were gradually becoming blurred, as if everything had merely been a fleeting dream.
Xuan Yang stood before the ruins of the dilapidated temple, gazing at the blue bricks beneath his feet.
He noticed that the spider patterns originally carved into the blue bricks were slowly changing; those complex and mysterious lines were becoming indistinct, ultimately transforming into ordinary cracks.
“Did we win?” Qu Si Yang's voice sounded from behind him.
Xuan Yang turned around to see Qu Si Yang looking at his right arm.
That once Bronze-encased arm had now returned to its soft state, as if it had never been corroded by Bronze at all. The only difference was a star-shaped scar in the palm, as if something had burned it.
In the distance, a melodious flute sound drifted through the air.
It was the sound of Mu Tong's flute, clear and melodious, as if narrating the peace and harmony of this land.
The smoke from the village rose gently, bringing a touch of human warmth to the wilderness.
This was a victory known to no one.
Three days later, the records in the Puppet Sect's scriptures regarding the "Shadow Rebellion" were altered; the once thrilling tale was transformed into a mere account of internal strife within the sect.
The shattered golden statue of the Master was remade, its incense burning brightly as before, as if nothing had ever happened.
One day, an old cultivator, drunk from wine, began to mumble about a dream involving a "Bronze Spider."
The dream sounded absurd, provoking laughter from those around him.
Yet amidst the laughter, only one person silently observed the old cultivator—Xuan Yang.
Xuan Yang noticed that whenever a newborn's shadow fell at a certain angle, it would briefly vanish.
This discovery sparked his curiosity, but others seemed oblivious to it.
As days passed, Xuan Yang observed that at the intersection of Zi and Wu hours each day, the shadows cast by the crumbling pillars of the dilapidated temple formed strange runes.
These runes appeared to conceal some kind of secret, waiting for him to uncover.
Meanwhile, Qu Si Yang's star scar would slightly warm up on rainy days.
This phenomenon also caught Xuan Yang's attention, and he began to ponder whether there was some connection between these seemingly unrelated occurrences.
Finally, on a moonless night, Xuan Yang and Qu Si Yang decided to return to the ruins of the temple.
Standing before the ruins, Qu Si Yang stepped on the ground and suddenly said, "Are we going to investigate this thoroughly? I feel like there’s something beneath us."
Xuan Yang gazed at the shadows beneath their feet and was astonished to discover that two shadows were slowly merging, gradually forming the shape of a key pointing westward.
The wind swept across the wilderness, carrying with it a faint sound of boats from the depths of the starry sky, as if guiding them in their journey forward.
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