Chapter 116 ‒ Dawn on Ashen Soil
Chapter 116 ‒ Dawn on Ashen Soil
“I want… I want you to… GET THE HECK OUT OF MY TOWN, YOU DUMBASS!!!”
Anne’s voice cracked through the square like a thunderclap. The words hung in the air, echoing off the half-toppled walls and drifting into the thin morning mist that curled around the sapling at the centre.
Tyler stared at her, his visor tilted slightly, as if he hadn’t fully registered the words. His mouth opened, then closed again, a quiet, puzzled breath fogging the inside of his helmet.
Anne’s face twisted, her cheeks blazing red as she stomped forward, fists balled so tight her knuckles turned white.
“Finally!” she spat, her voice quivering. “With both you and the Blightspawns gone, we can finally live happily and peacefully! You’re in a hurry to return to your world, right? So leave as soon as possible!”
She paused, her chest heaving as if she had run a long distance. Then her eyes dropped, and she muttered, almost too low to hear, “I can’t… I can’t stand your presence anymore.”
For a moment, Tyler stood frozen. He didn’t quite expect anything particularly… but for some reason, he felt betrayed. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to the wooden medallion she had given him earlier. Its edges were sharp and awkward, the carving crude and uneven. Yet, it felt like a gift made with genuine determination — clumsy, but painfully sincere.
Then, his shoulders trembled slightly. A low, unexpected laugh escaped him, soft and cracked but unmistakably sincere.
“As you wish… idiot,” he said, voice low but carrying a warmth that made Anne’s eyes widen.
Anne huffed, turning on her heel with such force that her hair whipped around her shoulders. She stomped away, muttering curses under her breath as she disappeared into the thinning morning mist.
Tyler watched her go, a slow exhale leaking from between his lips.
He turned his gaze upward. Morning light began to slip over Ashborough’s rooftops, revealing the true state of the square.
Where once there had been scorched bark and black rot, tiny green shoots now sprouted bravely. The air, once choked with sulphur and corruption, carried the fresh scent of damp earth and the delicate sweetness of the divine flower. Lanterns flickered softly as villagers refilled them, their orange glow reflecting in tearful, exhausted eyes.
People moved in hesitant steps, as if waking from a nightmare they weren’t quite certain had truly ended. Some knelt by the sapling, their hands pressed to the soil in wordless prayers. Others embraced, sobbing openly, sharing relief they had dared not hope for.
A child ran past Tyler, holding a bunch of fragile white flowers, his laughter ringing like a clear bell. An old woman leaned against a broken fence, wiping her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, a small, tremulous smile on her lips.
Tyler’s heart thudded dully in his chest. He felt it all: the collective relief, the fragile warmth of the morning air, the small but unwavering light that now radiated from the sapling.
This… this is what I wanted to protect. Even if my hands are stained… even if my path is lonely… at least they can stand in the sun again.
Turning, he began walking toward Ashborough’s gate, each footstep crunching softly on the damp, newly healing earth.
Near the gate, Frank stood waiting. The old doctor looked smaller than Tyler remembered, his coat hanging loose on his shoulders, but his eyes held a steady, quiet strength.
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Frank sighed heavily as Tyler approached. “Leaving already? I knew… I knew she wouldn’t be able to say it,” he murmured, shaking his head with a small, rueful smile.
Tyler tilted his head, puzzled beneath his cracked visor. “What?”
Frank waved a hand dismissively, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Ah, nothing. Old man’s nonsense.”
Tyler shifted uncomfortably but stayed silent. Frank studied him for a long moment, then chuckled, reaching into a hidden inner pocket.
“Well, if I can’t convince you to stay… at least let me give you a parting gift,” Frank said, his voice dropping into a softer, almost fatherly timbre. “You got one from my daughter, right? This old man isn’t such a miser that he’d let you leave empty-handed.”
Frank drew out a small, shining object — a golden bone, polished to a mirror sheen despite its age. It glimmered faintly in the newborn sunlight, each curve catching soft rays like a quiet flame.
Tyler’s eyes widened slightly. “But Doctor Frank… you said this was like a family heirloom.”
Frank barked a gentle laugh, though it trembled slightly at the edges. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t think I’m ever doing any research again. And besides… I think it will be far more useful to you than to some dusty old shelf here.”
Frank paused, his fingers tightening around the bone. His gaze drifted sideways, to the far edge of the square where scorched remains of rotten bark still smouldered.
“If only Sylvia could have seen this day… but perhaps, in some way, she did,” Frank whispered, voice breaking for a breath before smoothing again.
Tyler’s gaze softened beneath the visor. He bowed his head slightly, a silent gesture of respect neither man needed to voice aloud.
Frank finally let out a long, slow breath and pressed the bone forward. “..and besides that, I’m just continuing the tradition.”
Tyler blinked, puzzled. “What?”
Frank smiled faintly, shaking his head. “Nothing… best of luck on your journey.”
[Acquired Item: Ancient Bone]
Tyler took it carefully, his fingers brushing Frank’s for a brief, lingering second. “Thank you,” he said, voice low and almost reverent. “I don’t know if I deserve this… but thank you.”
Frank snorted and patted his shoulder gently, as though trying to steady a trembling limb. “Hah! Just make sure you come back alive. Or at least… do something good enough that old fools like me can be proud to have met you.”
Tyler nodded, his grip tightening on the bone.
Even in a broken world, there are people worth saving… worth carrying forward in my memory. No matter how far I go.
He turned slightly, glancing one last time at the square bathed in the pale light of dawn. The pink glow of the sapling shimmered like a heartbeat in the centre of it all — fragile, but fiercely alive.
---
Tyler stepped out of the teleportation circle into Yandi, a faint glow still clinging to his armour from the early morning light of Ashborough. For a fleeting moment, a quiet calm settled over him — an illusion of peace after the long night.
He made his way along the narrow path, damp mist curling around his ankles like silent fingers. At the mouth of a shadowy cavern stood Yandeon, his large wizard hat tilted slightly, glinting beneath the ethereal forest glow.
As Tyler approached, Yandeon turned, his yellow eyes sharp and ancient, gleaming with unfathomable depth.
“Ah… at last, you return,” Yandeon intoned, his voice rolling out smooth and deep, like a distant thunder rumble. “Because of your deeds, I too have found reason to step beyond these stones after countless years of contemplation.”
His gaze swept over Tyler, appraising yet strangely gentle. “You have aided Shindo’s settlement, and ensured the seal on the Infernal Warden remains unbroken. You should hold your head high… for now.”
Tyler stiffened slightly, a heat rising beneath his visor. “I only… did what felt necessary,” he murmured.
Yandeon chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in it — only a quiet, ancient resonance. “Necessary. A word that shifts shape depending on whose lips speak it.”
A hush fell between them, heavy and expectant. Then Tyler spoke, voice low and uncertain. “I came to ask… Do you know of any powerful wizards who might have distributed a black liquid? Something foul… reeking of death and rot.”
Yandeon’s eyes narrowed, a subtle glimmer passing through their depths — as if a ripple disturbed still water. He tilted his hat forward slightly, casting a long shadow across his face.
“Ah… black liquid, you say,” he echoed, each word deliberate, measured like a blade being drawn. “Long ago, a young creature came before me. He called himself Jumo Racoon… though to my gaze, it was clear he bore a human soul hidden beneath fur and false teeth.”
Tyler froze, every muscle tightening beneath the armour. He knew?
Yandeon gave a slow, almost amused exhale. “Desperate and trembling, that one sought something to restore vitality to a dying tree — clinging to borrowed myths of salvation. Pitiful, yet curious.”
He turned slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur that still carried the weight of thunder. “I guided him toward the hidden village beyond the Windy Mountains… Ivory Glen.”
Tyler felt the world tilt, the words sinking into him like ice. Ivory Glen — he had never imagined Yandeon would speak that name, let alone with such certainty and familiarity.