Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 810 - 809: Night Sky Visitors

The first day inside the Sandbox World passed quickly during the exploration of the Temple and the city.

The giant sun, simulated on the horizon, gradually approached the skyline. Its brilliant rays cast the silhouette of the desert city-state Nim Sandro on the ground. Gawain stood on a high platform near the Temple, overlooking this deserted, long-abandoned city, seemingly deep in thought.

Footsteps approached from behind, and Gawain turned to see Selena Gerfen had arrived by his side.

”We will rest in an empty house near the Temple tonight,” Selena said. ”Do you think that’s acceptable?”

”There’s no problem with that,” Gawain replied casually, ”You know the environment here, just arrange as you see fit.”

Selena opened her mouth, seeming somewhat hesitant, and after a few seconds, she finally spoke up, ”Have you thought about how to deal with the Supreme Narrator? Like... how to lure it out.”

This was not only her question but also what Yuri and Magnan wanted to ask but didn’t dare to.

So far, the Supreme Narrator remained an inconspicuous, intangible entity in their eyes. It existed, its power and influence evident throughout Sandbox One, but it never exposed any physical form before everyone. Selena couldn’t figure out how to confront such an enemy, and as for the Wanderers from Outer Realm...

She, Yuri, and Magnan observed for an entire day, and did not see the Wanderers from Outer Realm take any active measures to search or confront the Supreme Narrator. Gawain, like them, spent the day investigating and gathering intelligence, which inevitably caused some doubts—

Could what they were doing really combat that invisible ”God”?

In the gradually descending rays of the giant sun, Gawain glanced at Selena, smiling, ”I know what you’re worried about.

”To be honest, a God that does not show its face hiding in such a vast Sandbox World is quite the tricky situation, even for me, with no clear entry point or starting point.

”So I am waiting, waiting for that ’Supreme Narrator’ to show up on its own.”

”Waiting for it to show up on its own?” Selena’s eyes widened slightly, ”Do you think the Supreme Narrator will come out on its own?”

”It will, it’s been longing for this opportunity,” Gawain stated confidently. ”We are its last stepping stone to escape, and our exploration of Sandbox One is the best opportunity it has. Even if we don’t consider those, our intrusion as ’uninvited guests’ surely caught its attention. Based on the previous exploration team’s encounters, that God is not too welcoming of outsiders. It will at least react—once it reacts, we’ll have a chance to grasp that tangible power and uncover its traces.”

”An attack...” Selena murmured softly, her gaze on the giant sun that had reached the horizon. ”Night is falling.”

”Yes, night is falling. The previous exploration team experienced a mental backlash after nightfall,” Gawain nodded. ”In the Sandbox World, ’night’ is a very special concept. It seems that once the night sky falls, many changes occur in this world. We’ve explored Nim Sandro during the day, and next, perhaps we can look forward to what its night is like.”

As Gawain spoke, he began to walk towards the edge of the platform, preparing to return to their temporary base. However, Selena’s voice suddenly came from behind him: ”Have you not considered the truthfulness of the words at the Temple’s entrance and on the Pulpit?”

”The God is dead?” Gawain paused at the platform’s edge, shaking his head slightly, ”I don’t buy it.”

The night sky finally descended.

The moonless night enveloped the desert city-state Nim Sandro, with unfamiliar stars twinkling in the sky. In a deserted house near the Temple, Selena summoned her portable lamp, bringing bright, warm light to this dwelling whose owner was long forgotten.

The house had been cleaned, and Yuri, with a wave of his hand, conjured a bountiful feast on the long table in the center of the main room—various roasted meats brushed with even sauces, exuding an enticing color, with desserts and vegetables garnishing the main course, vibrant and appetizing. Transparent wine glasses, candelabras, and other items dotted the table, completing the feast.

”Enjoying fine dining and exploring the city-state don’t have to conflict,” Yuri said, with a courteous smile as he took a seat at the long table, an epitome of elegance. ”Although these are mere dream-time products, we’re in a world of dreams, so indulge as you please.”

”Boring to death, we don’t need to eat or drink here,” Magnan remarked with casual sarcasm. ”It’s fitting for an aristocratic background to conjure some illusions even in this godforsaken place, and still include Typhon 702’s Sutim Wine and Silver Candelabra—”

As he spoke, this red-haired, short-statured Archbishop of the Eternal Sleepers sat at the long table, casually carving himself a slice of roast meat: ”...Quite aromatic indeed.”

Selena looked at the two men at the long table, unable to resist slightly frowning in reminder: ”It’s best to stay vigilant—to be. It’s nighttime in the Sandbox World, and it’s not so safe after nightfall in this world.”

”Of course, that’s why I’m waiting for that damned Supreme Narrator to come knocking,” Magnan’s loud voice rang out at the long table, ”only capable of crafting vague dreams and illusions, and leaving some ’The God is dead’ words in the Temple to scare people. I’m now curious what it will do next—will it just knock on the door directly?”

As soon as Magnan’s loud voice fell silent, the temporary residence suddenly quieted down.

”Knock, knock, knock——”

A rhythmic knocking sound reached everyone’s ears.

In this world devoid of humans, in this deserted city-state, under this silent night sky—

There came a knocking sound.

Magnan had half a piece of roast meat in his mouth, and two seconds later, he swallowed it down with a gulp, wide-eyed: ”...Damn... I was just talking.”

Meanwhile, the steady knocking sound continued, as if the person knocking was extremely patient.

Yuri and Selena’s gazes simultaneously fell on Magnan, the red-haired Archbishop, who widened his eyes, and finally waved his hand vigorously: ”Okay, I’ll go open it—”

Gawain, however, stood up earlier: ”I’ll go.”

As he spoke, he approached the door made of some unknown wood and also extended a strand of his mind to perceive the presence outside the door.

There was a human presence outside, but it seemed to be just a human.

Gawain placed his hand on the door handle, and at that moment, the steady knocking stopped, as if the visitor outside anticipated someone would open the door and began to wait patiently.

With the creak of door hinges breaking the silence under the night sky, Gawain pushed open the door, and saw an old man in a tattered gray-white robe standing outside.

The man was tall, with white hair and beard, and the wrinkles on his face bore the traces of merciless time. He was draped in a robe of indeterminable age, scarred and worn, with the hem frayed beyond repair, yet some decorative patterns were still faintly visible. In his hand, the old man held a simple paper lantern, whose light lit up a small area around him, and in that hazy glow, Gawain noticed another figure behind the old man.

It was a young girl in a ragged white dress, her long white hair almost reaching her ankles. She stood barefoot behind the old man, her head lowered as she looked at her toes. Gawain couldn’t clearly see her face but could roughly ascertain her youth, slender frame, and delicate features.

An old man, a young girl, bearing a tattered paper lantern visiting in the middle of the night, appeared utterly non-threatening.

Yet in this Sandbox One, in this world now devoid of people, their presence itself was an anomaly!!

Gawain did not let his guard down due to the visitors’ seemingly harmless demeanor. He had already assumed they might be some sort of probe from the ”Supreme Narrator,” and with utmost vigilance in his heart, he maintained a calm expression as he asked, ”So late at night, what brings you here?”

”It’s been a long time since we’ve seen lights in this city,” the old man spoke, a gentle smile on his face and a very kind tone, ”We were quite surprised to see the light from afar and came to see the situation.”

So natural, so normal was his manner of speaking.

Yet the more normal he appeared, the more eerie Gawain felt.

Footsteps sounded from behind him, and Selena Gerfen came to stand beside Gawain.

She took a glance at the old man and girl at the door, nodded slightly, and spoke in an equally natural tone, ”Are they guests?”

”Sorry for disturbing at night,” the old man said, ”May we come in to rest our feet? Seeing lights in this city is not an easy sight.”

Entertaining visitors on a night where none should appear was undoubtedly a highly risky act.

Yet after sizing up the two at the door for a moment, Gawain unexpectedly smiled and generously said, ”Certainly—in the desert, it gets quite cold at night. Come in and warm yourselves.”

Selena watched the scene with a slightly odd expression, some strange thoughts inexplicably surfacing in her mind:

The Supreme Narrator knocked on the Explorers’ door, the Wanderer from Outer Realm opened it, warmly inviting the former in as a guest—and then, things became interesting.

Of course, she had no evidence to prove that the seemingly ordinary old man and girl were the incarnations of the Supreme Narrator, but given that they appeared under such eerie circumstances... even if they weren’t ”incarnations,” they clearly weren’t ordinary people either.

In the abandoned residence, warm lights illuminated the room, a long table was laden with mouth-watering delicacies, the fragrance of wine wafted through the air, and the guests coming from the cold, chilling night sky were led to the table.

Yuri and Magnan observed the strangers before them with curiosity and caution. The old man returned a gentle smile, while the girl in the white dress sat quietly to the side, her head lowered, staring at her toes as if oblivious to all around her, or perhaps too timid to make eye contact with strangers.

”My name is Duvalt,” the old man in the tattered robe said with a polite smile as he took a seat by the long table, ”A Priest still wandering the world, ha... probably the last one as well.”

Priest...

Gawain caught onto this word, but showed no reaction.

The self-claimed Duvalt continued by indicating the girl beside him, ”She’s called Nariteer.”

He only introduced the girl’s name, without explaining her identity or their relationship as Gawain had anticipated.

Yuri took the initiative, ”Nariteer... a beautiful name, is she your granddaughter?”

”No, just someone I’m traveling with,” the old man shook his head, ”In today’s world, finding a companion isn’t easy.”

The girl called Nariteer cautiously raised her head to glance around, pointed to herself, and softly said, ”Nariteer.”

This seemed to count as her self-introduction.

Magnan pursed his lips, saying nothing.

”We are a group of explorers, intrigued by this city,” Gawain noted that these ”people” emerging from the uninhabited night sky were introducing themselves so normally, and, uncertain of their intentions, opted not to be hostile, but rather also smiled while introducing themselves, ”You may call me Gawain, Gawain Cecil. This is Selena Gerfen, beside me is Mr. Yuri Charlvin, and this is Mr. Magnan Kailabor.”

”It’s good to see travelers here again,” Duvalt said warmly, his gaze sweeping over the sumptuous spread on the table, ”Ah... what a bountiful feast.”

”Please join us and have some,” Yuri said courteously, ”Sharing food is a virtue.”

”The meal is indeed quite good,” Magnan added, wrinkling his nose, ”Sigh... Pity, if only that pervasive stench were absent.”

The entire Nim Zhuel and surrounding explored regions were filled with an odd, pervasive stench of decay, evidently affecting the Archbishop’s mood.

The old man Duvalt heard Magnan’s complaint and showed a gentle smile, ”A scent of putrefaction... quite normal.”

Gawain instantly furrowed his brow and reflexively asked, ”Why would it be normal?”

”The God is dead,” the old man murmured, placing his hand on his chest, palm horizontal, facing downwards, his tone growing solemn, ”Now... It has finally begun to rot.”

(My goodness!!!)