The voice was so familiar that he could almost imagine the fox.
"I know this is the destination you wish to visit, but..."
No matter where Muramasa looked, he would be swallowed by the white fog before he could take three steps.
The fog seemed to have confiscated almost all means of detection, leaving only the sound to travel alone.
"In this kind of environment, I can't tell what kind of place it is."
"That's right, but let's look ahead first, shall we?"
Muramasa remained silent on the fox's suggestion, his attention instead focused on other things:
"By the way, do you and this old man share the same vision?"
He is concerned about the privacy issues involved.
"Don't worry, I won't interfere with your normal male health and well-being."
"And I can only see or hear things, I can't empathize with you about other things~"
This guy……
Muramasa was about to open his mouth to refute when he felt a weight on his shoulders.
This is?
Just as he was about to raise his hand, the weight leaped forward, leaving a black shadow in Muramasa's eyes.
"crow?"
After realizing the identity of this entity, Muramasa stopped talking, but his doubts remained undiminished.
There was no point in thinking too much now, so he simply walked forward.
There was endless white fog all around, which was like a living thing, slowly rolling and wriggling, wrapping the whole world in it. When Muramasa peeled off one layer, another layer would appear to fill it up.
The sound of the waves continued, but strangely, it sounded dull and distant, nothing like the sound that should come from the nearby shore.
The sense of direction is gone, as is the sense of security.
"How about just cutting it open with a knife?"
Only my own voice echoed in my head, and the other party seemed to have no idea how to respond.
……
"How to do it?"
The Son of God did not respond immediately, but asked another priestess.
"...No, I can't find any similar memories, nor can I sense any trace of 'me'."
The fox-masked witch shook her head.
……
The surroundings fell into dead silence, and in this dead silence, a tiny figure walked out silently from the thick fog in front.
"Ok?"
Before the other party could get close, Muramasa summoned a blade and swept it across his forehead.
forward——
The individual's space of existence was expanded, and the gray-white color receded backwards, exposing Muramasa and the figure in front of him.
He was a little boy who looked no more than ten years old. He had short, slightly curly black hair, was wearing simple clothes, and his bare feet were stepping on the cold sand.
He stopped a few steps away and raised his head. There was a calmness in his dark eyes that was extremely disproportionate to his age.
Even though his face had just been touched by the sword energy, there was no fear on his face, and a smile seemed to be branded on his face.
He bowed slightly, his posture impeccable.
"You must be Sengo Muramasa-san."
His voice was clear, but his tone was steady, without any emotional ups and downs.
"Nice to meet you. My name is Aru."
"Who are you? Why do you recognize me?" His hands subconsciously opened and closed again, abandoning the broken weapon and re-projecting a katana.
I didn't feel any sign of anyone approaching, no footsteps, no breathing sounds, and this guy suddenly appeared.
Then I asked the Son of God in my heart:
Is this guy yours?
Faced with the sudden appearance of the sharp blade, the boy named Aru showed no surprise or fear on his face.
On the contrary, his eyes calmly swept over the coldly shining sword, as if he was looking at an ordinary decoration.
He didn't retreat, or even change his posture. "Don't be nervous, Mr. Muramasa. I mean no harm to you."
"You didn't answer my question." Muramasa had no intention of letting him go.
"Because you are a guest, and I am supposed to know every guest."
After saying this, he bowed again towards the sharp feeling that was almost pointing at him:
"plz follow me."
Almost at the same time as Aru opened her mouth, Yaesugi's voice also sounded in her mind. Her tone was less lazy than usual and more solemn.
"...This child is not mine. There is something wrong with him...
"And his appearance was too coincidental."
I know without you telling me...
Muramasa thought to himself that just listening to him speak gave him a creepy feeling.
Moreover, his aura was neither like that of a living person nor a dead person.
What’s worse is that I have no other choice now.
"You made a wise choice."
The boy seemed to have noticed something, and his calm eyes flickered slightly.
Then he turned around, stepped onto the wet and cold sand with his bare feet, and walked into the depths of the fog.
The thick fog seemed to have no effect on him. His steps were firm and steady, and his small figure was particularly clear against the gray and white background.
The sand beneath my feet gradually gave way to grass mixed with black mud. The air was filled with a decaying smell, and the ground beneath my feet grew soft and damp.
On both sides of the road, the outlines of dilapidated buildings began to appear. They looked like ancient villages abandoned for centuries, and most of the wooden houses had collapsed and decayed, with only black doors and windows remaining.
"here it is....."
Looking at the changes in the surrounding scenery, Muramasa couldn't help but mutter:
"Hey, little guy, where are we going?"
"This is the 'past.'" He didn't rush to answer the following questions. "Originally, it was the residence of some outsiders, but now they're gone."
"The place we're going to is further ahead. There's a celebration going on there, and there are still people who haven't left yet."
As he spoke, his small figure disappeared into the fog ahead again, his pace quickening.
"The festival has already begun, we can't be late."
The fog seemed to become thinner, no longer so suffocatingly thick.
The rotten smell in the air gradually dissipated, replaced by a mixed aroma of fireworks and food.
Faintly, you can hear the laughter of children and the noise of people talking from deep in the fog.
The sound seemed distant and distorted, as if it was coming through a thick layer of glass, but there was no doubt that it was the sound of the "living" world.
The road ahead also became flat, and the dilapidated stone slabs were replaced by complete stone steps.
On both sides of the road, wooden houses with lanterns lit appeared. Although simple in style, these houses were clean and tidy, emitting a warm orange light.
Several children wearing the same simple clothes ran out of a house, chasing each other. They ran past laughing and playing, as if they were used to outsiders.
"Do you often have outsiders coming here?"
Looking at the children's reactions, Muramasa spoke.
"Yes, Mr. Muramasa."
He replied, his voice clearly coming through the noisy background noise:
"Heguan has always been very 'welcoming' to guests. However, most of these guests are not quite like you."
He stopped and looked back at the figure following behind him. As he was speaking, several children who were chasing and playing happened to run by. One of them accidentally bumped into his shoulder, but it was like hitting a stone, and he staggered instead.
The child rubbed his shoulders, made a face at Aru, and ran away laughing. But he didn't move, just kept talking to himself:
"Most of them are no longer 'complete' when they arrive. Some are on the verge of death, or their souls are incomplete. This island will accept them and give them temporary peace."
The whole picture of the village has been revealed before our eyes - houses are lined up one after another, smoke is curling up, people are walking on the streets, decorations for festivals are hung everywhere, and there is a scene of laughter and joy.
"But you are different. You are 'complete', even... too powerful."
The Swordsmith from Another World: Chapter 101: Miyu Chiyo
"So, you are not a 'guest' seeking asylum, but an invited 'guest of the dead'."
His words smelled like some kind of abstract painting, with the relationship between the conclusion and the logic blurred, and a few useful but seemingly redundant parts added.
He didn't explain, but what he could see clearly was enough for Muramasa.
"The center of the festival is over there. Please follow me."
Seeing that Muramasa stopped asking questions, he began to faithfully perform his duties.
As we entered the village, the lively atmosphere hit us. The air was filled with the aroma of grilled fish and some kind of sweet dessert, mixed with the smell of burning pine resin.
The villagers were all dressed in festive attire, their faces filled with genuine joy.
Some of them put up white feather decorations in front of their houses, while others sat together, sharing food and wine.
The streets were lined with decorations made of strange white feathers and purple crystals, emitting a soft glow under the dim sky.
Muramasa felt the gazes falling on him from time to time, and his expression couldn't help but become a little gloomy.
They were curious and friendly, or at least they were emphasizing that with their gaze.
When their eyes met, they would smile kindly, nod slightly, then look away and continue with their own things.
While observing, he spoke to the voice in his head:
The dying man came here... It seems very similar to what you said before. What the hell is Chiyo?
"Hmm... Indeed, my guess should be correct."
"Erased by a dark power, summoned at the brink of death... If she is the first, then this place may be the 'final destination' for all those who follow."
Aru, who had been walking in front, suddenly stopped and turned around, as if she had eyes on her back.
"Someone is watching, please keep smiling." He spoke softly, almost in a voice that only the two of them could hear. There was no emotion in his dark pupils, he was just calmly stating a suggestion.
"Sorry, I'm just used to this look."
The boy just looked over calmly and nodded, as if accepting the explanation.
"Ok."
He did not delve further into the topic, but instead pointed to a more open and bustling place ahead.
"It's almost there. 'She' is there."
she?
I didn't seem to say that I was going to meet anyone?
After passing through an archway made of huge animal bones, the view suddenly opens up.
This is the central square of the village, with a huge bonfire burning in the center. The crackling flames dyed everything around it a warm orange-red.
At the end of the square, close to the side of the mountain wall, a simple yet solemn altar was built. Below the altar, the most eye-catching thing was a woman sitting against a huge rock.
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