A full thirty minutes of concentrated attacks, under the precondition of being unable to use advanced Nen techniques, failed to break through the silver-haired woman's defense.
But it was not entirely futile.
The thirty minutes of struggle at least wore down the Manifested Aura covering the silver-haired woman's body.
At the same time, it allowed the silver-haired woman to accumulate unimaginable rage.
Because Law had sealed her mouth, she could not vent her anger through words.
In this situation, unless she used her final trump card, there was simply no way to break free from this human's control.
During the thirty minutes of being ganged up on, the silver-haired woman never gave up, silently and continuously trying to think of a way out.
Yet it was still futile, and it made her increasingly aware of Law's depth.
'That book...'
A sharp glint flashed deep in the silver-haired woman's eyes.
She was not worried about her own predicament, but instead delusionally thought about obtaining Law's Nen Book.
…
On the other side, the Skeleton was sprinting through the Forest of Medusa.
He had first spent a full ten minutes slowly retreating to a relatively safe position, then immediately broke into a run.
While Law and that silver-haired woman were locked in stalemate, he could run as far as possible.
'Although we did not spend long together, good luck to you.'
The Skeleton thought silently.
'Speaking of which, which direction should I take to leave this place?'
The Skeleton looked up at the dense, intertwined spikes above. He could not fly, so he had to honestly travel by land.
'Anyway, just putting some distance between us is enough.'
Even if he could not distinguish directions, the Skeleton felt that keeping his distance from Law and the others was sufficient.
Sooner or later, he would get out.
With this clear thought, the Skeleton's sprinting speed noticeably increased.
After sprinting like this for another half hour, the scenery before him changed slightly.
The gaps between the caltrop trees widened. The milky white glow emanating from the ground did not diminish, but the density of petrified feathers decreased significantly.
This change was like going from thick fog to thin mist.
'Hmm? Looks like I chose the right direction.'
Noticing the change in the environment, the Skeleton thought to himself, 'The lower density of petrified feathers probably meant I was nearing the forest's edge. Perhaps after walking a bit further, I could leave this place.'
Just as he thought this, what appeared ahead made him freeze on the spot.
A hundred meters away, an ordinary-looking large tree stood in a clearing.
Its brown trunk and green leaves were completely out of place with the surrounding gray-white caltrop trees.
Right under this seemingly ordinary large tree, a book the size of a door panel leaned quietly against the trunk.
"..."
Seeing the book's appearance clearly, the Skeleton's body stiffened in place.
'The Mender... why is it here...?'
The Skeleton's body trembled slightly as he slowly shuffled back one step.
'You cannot see me, you cannot see me!'
As he chanted incessantly in his mind, the Skeleton slowly retreated backward.
After he had taken three steps back, he saw black, stick-like limbs extend from the Mender's body, and then it stood up.
Next, the Skeleton stopped moving because the Mender's gaze had already fallen upon him.
Though he had lost his body heat, at this moment, the Skeleton felt as if he had stepped into an ice cellar, a bone-deep chill running through him.
'The most important thing is to stay alive.'
He had long since forgotten when he first heard this phrase, nor could he remember who had said it.
What he could recall was that upon awakening again, staring at his home reduced to ruins, only this phrase remained in his mind.
Therefore, even as his fellow travelers fell one after another, the Skeleton continued to survive in his remaining skeletal form.
He believed that his survival until now had nothing to do with luck, and that the outcome of life and death was never tied to luck.
But now, he felt his luck was bad.
When the Mender's gaze fell upon him, the Skeleton felt utterly despairing and simply gave up struggling.
His former home had been destroyed by the Mender. His former clan had been killed by the Mender. His current body was also thanks to the Mender.
Yet from beginning to end, he had never once thought of revenge.
Because he knew his limits.
"My capacity for storing memories is limited... they must be used efficiently and rationally. But I remember you."
Just then, the Mender's ethereal, hollow voice came through, uttering words the Skeleton could not understand.
The Skeleton dared not reply, nor even let his Aura fluctuate, afraid of provoking the Mender.
A single eye suddenly split open on the Mender's root-like cover.
The Skeleton felt the gaze upon him become even clearer. For a moment, he felt as if he had been completely seen through, inside and out.
He dared not act rashly, could not act rashly, like a lamb waiting for slaughter.
Suddenly, the Mender flashed, crossing the hundred-meter distance to stand before the Skeleton.
The eye, looking like a scrawled doodle, framed the Skeleton's body from head to toe.
The Skeleton felt threatened as if facing a great enemy, yet dared not move even a finger, allowing the Mender to look him over freely at such close range.
"I should reclaim you, but you do not fall within the category for reclamation."
A hint of puzzled confusion mixed into the Mender's tone.
Life that should not exist in this world was the Mender's primary reclamation target.
From its perspective, the Skeleton met that criterion. But in reality, the Skeleton straddled the boundary line, the boundary between life and death.
Therefore, the Mender found it difficult to act against the Skeleton... this was also why it had let him go last time in the Hide-and-Seek Dimension.
Over the long years, the Mender had perfected emotions. Feeling confusion naturally also meant feeling unwillingness to accept.
With the Skeleton coming to it of his own accord, yet being unable to do anything, this would make the Mender feel unwilling, and thus unhappy.
It felt it had to do something, within the bounds allowed by the rules...
...
Somewhere on the Dark Continent, a place of ice and snow, stood rows of snow-capped mountains close to one another.
These mountains resembled open umbrellas, with seemingly fragile snow pillars supporting umbrella-like peaks.
A blizzard raged, snowflakes falling thick and fast, constantly adding weight to the umbrella-shaped peaks.
As the accumulated snow grew heavy, it would slide down the curved slopes of the peaks, like rain falling on an umbrella, turning into streams of droplets sliding towards the umbrella's edge.
But the white snow sliding down from the peaks turned into hanging icicles, suspended from the edges of the umbrella-shaped cliffs.
Among the many umbrella-shaped snow mountains, one stood out, towering a full head above the others.
Suddenly, a burst of loud laughter echoed from atop that tallest mountain.
At the center of the peak stood an icicle, like the central pole of an umbrella.
Beyond and his group stood before the icicle.
The laughter came from Beyond.
Inside the crystalline icicle, a book was frozen.