CHAPTER 10: The Timeless Sanctuary
The mammoth's trunk was easily three times the size of Edard's molten projectile. Because of this massive scale, Edard felt in his soul that even if he were in the creature's place, he wouldn't have bothered to dodge either. Especially considering that even on Earth, elephants are among the thickest-skinned creatures; perhaps if this ball of fire struck it, it might not leave so much as a scratch.
Instantly, Edard manifested a blade from his Dragon Essence, preparing himself to launch a follow-up strike the moment the molten stone made contact with the trunk—particularly if the initial blast failed to do damage. He had no intention of giving the beast a chance to recover; if the molten strike managed to create even a small opening, he would immediately follow it with a second assault.
And if his Dragon Essence failed as well, Edard knew he would have no choice but to rely on his speed skill of cloning that boosted his velocity—to dash into the cave, grab the human-like figure, and flee. He knew that immense size usually costs a creature its speed; it was unlikely this mammoth could maintain even half of his own pace. If even that seemed impossible, his backup plan was to lead the mammoth on a long chase, drawing it far away before circling back to snatch the figure and escape.
The only reason he hesitated to execute these plans was time. Every single second he wasted was a second that could lead to his death. Therefore, if possible, he wanted to eliminate the mammoth directly without losing precious moments. After all, there was a high probability that once he entered, he would find the human figure had long since passed away. He truly did not want to waste time on a corpse.
As he ran these calculations through his mind, the molten ball—which had taken the vague shape of a hand (though most would not have seen it as such due to Edard's limited Willpower)—struck the mammoth's trunk dead center. The beast tried to swat it aside, while the fiery "hand" fought to shove the mammoth back.
The massive creature let out a deafening, soul-shattering scream. Its front legs buckled, and it collapsed onto its knees, pinned down by a force it couldn't overcome. It barely moved. "Hot... so hot..." Edard heard a voice emanating from the mammoth's mouth, as if it were speaking. Immediately, a box appeared before his eyes:
Edard's eyes widened in sheer amazement. So many things were happening at once. Did this mean elephants had their own language? Did all animals have languages? That didn't surprise him as much as the state of the mammoth. It lay sprawled on the ground, teetering on the edge of death. Its entire body, trunk, and nearly half of its head had been scorched to a cinder, and blood was gushing out. The molten strike had completely overwhelmed it. Neither Edard nor the mammoth had anticipated that the heat of the molten stone would be so devastating. At that moment, Edard felt he had won; the beast had lost all will to fight and was merely struggling to survive.
He glanced at the clock on his wrist. It showed 8 minutes and 11 seconds.
In just eight minutes, he would be at the doorstep of the grave.
For the first time since arriving in this world, a cold, sharp terror pierced Edard's heart. Even if that human-like figure inside was alive, there was no guarantee they were a cultivator who knew how to extend longevity. Even if they were, Edard would have to "siphon" what he could before he reached the afterlife. Based on his experience with the man named Kalahari, his curse skill allowed him to siphon thirty seconds for every one minute of the target's life.
Mathematically, that would grant him four extra minutes before his eight minutes expired, giving him a total of roughly twelve minutes and eleven seconds. Before those four minutes ran out, he would gain another two, then another one, then thirty seconds, and so on, in a diminishing cycle until the end. Even if everything went perfectly, he wouldn't survive another twenty minutes.
What can he do in only twenty minutes?
Driven by a desperate, frantic energy, Edard left the mammoth behind and stepped into the cave. Contemplation won't achieve anything.
His very first step into the cave met with a shocking surprise. It wasn't a sight, but a violent force that struck him. The power was so immense that he was hoisted into the air and hurled back out of the cave. He was lucky enough to land on the carcass of the dead mammoth, which cushioned his fall. Because of the sheer violence of the impact, Edard spent three whole minutes seeing stars, his vision a hazy blur.
When he finally regained consciousness and checked his watch, the world felt like it was spinning out of control. Instead of the minutes he expected to have, the display read: 1 minute and 46 seconds.
Where had his other six minutes gone? Had he been unconscious for six minutes instead of three? Every shred of hope he had left was now tied to that human-like shape. Though he had stepped inside, he hadn't seen enough to know if it was a true human or a creature like Kalahari. Was it a man or a woman?
After a moment, he stood up, hoisted a stone, and threw it into the cave. The stone entered without resistance, just like the first one he had thrown at the mammoth. Perhaps this was a barrier—like the Violet Barrier he had seen under his classifications. Invisible forces that could toss you aside or even kill you if you collided with them. But why did it affect people and not stones? Perhaps it only reacted to those who possessed energy.
He paused for a heartbeat, then gritted his teeth.
Death was already standing over him. If he didn't try, he would tumble into the grave without even knowing why. He steeled his nerves; the time had come. Slowly, with calculated movements, he slid his big toe past the threshold of the cave entrance. He braced for an impact, but nothing happened. He slid the rest of his toes in. Still nothing. He moved his entire foot. He waited for several seconds—silence. He thrust his hand in—nothing. Finally, he stepped in completely. Two steps into the cave, he stood still, waiting to be hurled away again, but the air remained still.
Perhaps whatever had thrown him was a one-time defense mechanism. He looked at his watch: 59 seconds.
He scanned the cave. It was a wretched, unsightly place. It was dark, cluttered with the skeletal remains of humans and animals, and covered in filth. In some corners, it looked like it hadn't been touched in ages, but the fresh bones suggested it was a frequent site of activity.
Further ahead, he saw the figure. Luck was with him—it was a woman, likely no older than twenty. A young woman. She wore a long red dress, and she was covered in blood. Edard couldn't tell if the blood made the dress red or if that was its original color.
But the dress wasn't what caught his eye. There was something miraculous and strange: a metal collar around her neck. It was looped and fastened like a chain, but it wasn't a standard chain. It looked more like the heavy iron collars used to restrain beasts. Yet, this one was thin, glowing, and intricately decorated. Edard was confused—was this jewelry, or was she being held captive like a tethered animal?
He took three slow steps toward her, his heart in his throat, silently calling on his Creator. He felt certain that whoever had set the trap that threw him earlier was still around, and another attack could come at any moment. Was it this girl's power? The mammoth's? Or someone else's? He moved closer and activated his Status Key.
A box appeared near her face:
The metal collar around her neck emitted a faint glow. A secondary box appeared, explaining the properties of the object:
If he could just remove the collar... but what would be the point? She was already dead. The status clearly said "Corpse." Did this mean his journey had reached its end? Would he fall into the grave with no way back? Was this what the Hausa call "Seeing what you found, then seeing its loss"?
He had never imagined his life would end just as he was on the verge of finding the answers he had spent his life researching—the very reason he had come to this world. Was it all for nothing? He let out a long, ragged breath. Rusi was dead. He had only seconds left.
"She's dead," he whispered, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them. His knees turned to jelly, and he collapsed to the floor. He couldn't accept that his final chance had slipped through his fingers. He looked at his watch: 59 seconds.
If there were someone alive in front of him to use his art on, fifty-nine seconds might be enough. But now, he had no target, no direction, and no hope. Even if he ran, he wouldn't find anyone else in less than a minute. Even if a miracle occurred and he found someone, how many seconds could he possibly siphon from them in such a short time? His time was up.
He took a deep breath, looked at the girl one last time, and stood up to leave the cave, his heart heavy and resolved. He didn't even have time to bury her, though he would be joining her in the afterlife shortly. Perhaps neither of them would ever find a grave.
As he stood at the mouth of the cave, he checked his watch one last time to see how many seconds he had left before he perished.
He stared. 59 seconds.
He blinked twice and looked again. It was the exact same time he had when he first entered the cave. Did that mean time hadn't moved? Was it a mistake? No, he knew for a fact that it was fifty-nine seconds when he entered. He had spent seconds inside, reading the data on the collar and the girl. Yet, having walked out, he still had fifty-nine seconds.
Either time had frozen the moment he stepped inside, or something in that cave had granted him extra seconds without him knowing. Or perhaps... he was simply dreaming. The final, desperate dream of a man standing on the very edge of his own grave.