Many lonely souls wander this land.
Some are new arrivals, some have adapted, and others have completely dissolved their existence.
Simon spoke with a Nord woman.
"Where do you come from?"
"I don't... I don't know."
"Do you know anyone else?"
...Please, help me end this endless suffering."
As the wraith spoke, its posture was relaxed, its pale blue soul body's expression was numb, its eyes vacant, yet it uttered such chilling words.
Not far away, a Nord Man was curled up beside a pile of rubble, trying to squeeze into the cracks of the rocks. Simon walked over and asked, "Who are you?"
"Ah—that sky, something is watching me, I'm going crazy! Going crazy, hahahahaha!"
Simon looked up at the sky; indeed, the vortex resembled an eye.
After walking a bit further, an old man with a long, flowing beard held a book, profoundly reciting prayers to six or seven dead souls sitting around him.
"Believe in Him, the great Lord of Truth, only tranquility is liberation in the darkness... Black Skulls are servants, but without wisdom..."
Climbing a high slope, Simon gazed at the horizon, where two moons loomed between the clouds, and a towering city wall revealed its grand silhouette. Numerous tall towers stood, and above their tops, countless broken floating stones were vaguely visible, as if drawn by the sky and flying, yet maintaining a rigid, suspended state.
On the ground ahead were some glowing depressions, like scabs on the earth. From a distance, purple steam could be seen erupting from them, illuminated by the strong light within the pits, making it translucent and bright.
In the ubiquitous clusters of tombstones, purple ghost orbs floated freely, like a group of slow-moving, tail-trailing meteors, giving off a sense of freedom.
Simon continued to walk forward, his soul constantly drawing him. However, after not long, he suddenly noticed a change in the summoning sensation; there was a subtle difference in direction—someone had touched his soul!
Simon frowned and used a flight spell, adjusting the force field intensity to slowly float up. But when he was barely ten feet off the ground, a bolt of lightning suddenly struck from the sky, knocking him down. His clothes caught fire and smoked. He had been caught off guard and took the lightning strike head-on, immediately losing consciousness and falling crookedly to the ground.
...
Serana walked towards the distant colossal city, encountering some Black Skulls along the way, but she easily dealt with all of them.
The Soul Cairn was full of pain and death, but for some reason, it gave her a sense of peace. Just as trees chase light and horses gallop across the fields, for a Vampire, this place was like a warm bed. If a place feels like home, then it can indeed be considered home.
Home brings peace of mind, especially where one's mother is.
From the void ahead, a blue-black skeletal horse, wreathed in purple flames, suddenly burst forth. A robust Nord Man soul embraced the horse's neck, shouting, "Oh ro ro ro roo! Run faster! Hey, good horse, I don't even want to give you back to that kid now!"
Serana looked at the unrestrained man with a shocked expression. To see such a flamboyant and lively person in such a deathly place was truly unbelievable.
The Nord Man reined in his horse, then touched a string of skulls hanging from his waist—all kinds of bones, human, animal, fresh, old—he stroked the horse's skull, and the spectral skeletal horse vanished into thin air.
The Nord Man saw Serana and exclaimed in surprise, "Ooh! A Vampire! If I were still alive, I'd cut you down!"
Serana snorted coldly, "Arrogant one, accept the pain of your soul dissipating!"
She flung an ice spike. The Nord Man rolled on the ground, dodging the spell, then rubbed one of the human skulls on his waist. "Heh-ha, let me show you my new acquisition!"
A translucent Nord boy slowly appeared from the void. His face held a serene smile, but it was stiff, clearly lacking any cognitive ability.
The Nord Man pointed at Serana, "Good boy, go beat up that bad guy."
At his words, the boy strode towards the Vampire lady.
"Ridiculous, what can a child do?" Serana looked at the boy and couldn't help but think how handsome he was; it was a pity he died so young, truly a treasure like a lost pearl. Although she secretly praised him, her actions were not hesitant, and she raised her hand to shoot another ice spike.
Seeing the ice spike rapidly approaching, the boy threw a perfectly straight punch. His translucent soul body rapidly solidified, looking like a transparent gem. The ice spike was shattered by the direct punch and dispersed.
Serana immediately frowned. She raised her hand and unleashed a Vampire's Touch. Scarlet specks of light transformed into ribbons and flew out, wrapping around the boy, attempting to seize his vitality, but it failed. The boy merely gave a slight shake, and the Vampire's Touch broke and shattered.
The Nord Man laughed heartily, "Amazing, right! Quick, quick, hit her!"
The boy retracted his punch and stood perfectly straight, showing no further intent to attack.
"Hit her! What's wrong? What's wrong?" The Nord Man scratched his head, and after a moment of confusion, he showed a simple-minded smile, "Never mind, if you don't want to hit her, then don't. Let's go back." He rubbed the skull on his waist, a practiced motion, like an old monster.
The boy dissolved into smoke.
Serana frowned and asked in a clear voice, "Do you know any other Vampires?"
The Nord Man subconsciously shook his head, but then, as if remembering something, he nodded vigorously, "You mentioned Vampires, and it reminded me, there is one, in the Graveyard over there." He pointed to the distant high wall, where buildings were dense. Serana had thought it was some lost ancient megalopolis, but she didn't expect it to be a Graveyard.
Serana pressed, "The Vampire you mentioned, is it a woman?"
"Exactly... Exac... Uh..." The Nord Man had been smiling, but gradually his voice faded, and he became blank, just like the incomplete souls scattered everywhere.
Serana had received confirmation and could have left this strange person and gone on her way, but she always distinguished between gratitude and grievance. She stepped forward to examine his condition, to see if she could resolve his abnormality.
As soon as she approached within six feet of the Nord Man, the illusory boy reappeared, blocking her.
"Hey, kid, move aside, I won't hurt that person."
...
"Your master has a problem, no, he's sick. I'm a priest, you know what a priest is, right? I'll cure him."
The boy looked directly at her, crossing his arms in a detached manner. He muttered in a low voice, "If you're sick, you should see a doctor. Why a priest? I don't trust you."
Seeing the boy's crossed-arms gesture, Serana suddenly found herself growing fond of him. Resolute, straightforward, gentle, cautious—she could use words to describe adults on him without any incongruity. What was remarkable was that such a steady child exuded a pure cleanliness—a cleanliness like a clear spring, visible in his eyes.
What kind of person was this child before he died?
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