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Chapter 59: Whispers in the Ruins. [Part - 2]
Whispers in the Ruins. [Part - 2]
Aglow above him were the twin moons: one, a crystalline white coldness, the other, a dark, glowing blue. Both of them cast an unnatural light on the world—an unearthly illumination that transformed shadows into whispers and gave every tree an air of mystery.
He came to a stop at the edge of the ruins.
There it was.
The ruin of Old Silver City.
It emerged from the earth like the ruins of some long-dead giant, weathered and bowed with age. Fissured stone walls projected into the air like shattered teeth, shrouded in thorny vines that glowed weakly with a mysterious, residual mana—faint, but present. Cobblestone streets were broken, veins of roots cutting through them like nature’s defiance. Ivy hung from windows like mourning veils, and half-fallen archways leaned into the darkness.
Leon gazed, throat catching in a breath.
"...Shit," he breathed. "Walking into a dream. Or a cemetery."
He edged forward, one step. The wind sighed through empty doorways. Wood creaked, somewhere—slow and heavy, as if the building itself was exhaling.
"Looks spooky," he grumbled, scanning the shadows between the shattered buildings.
Then he grinned.
Reminds me of that anime I saw back on Earth. The MC stumbled upon a place just like this. ended up with a god-level artifact and a harem next episode." He smiled quietly. "Not saying I’m hoping that, but hey, a guy can dream."
His golden eyes flashed with mirth—and interest.
He moved slowly, deeper into ruins. With each step, the odd light farther ahead throbbed brighter—an otherworldly blue which seemed to liquidate like stellar light, overrunning broken columns and shattered flagstones.
And it wasn’t moonlight. And it absolutely wasn’t natural light either.
The light itself had texture and weight. It was as though the air around him had been colored blue.
And with every step, air mana grew more dense.
Leon reined back, catching his breath as the pressure weighted his skin with an unseen fog—cool, but tingling. Alive. It stung along his vertebrae, traced icy fingers down the base of his skull. Magic weighted the air, heavy and pungent, like pre-storm mist. His pulse went faster—not of fear, but wonder. Whatever this was, it was old. Powerful. Sealed.
And with each step he took, the air shifted. It became heavier. Thicker. With mana. He could sense it on his skin—tingling, like the static in the air before a thunderstorm. The mana here was potent. Thick. Like he was approaching a space that had never been touched by time... or perhaps had too much of it stored within.
He paused for a moment, just breathing it in.
"This is insane..." he muttered under his breath. "It’s like the whole place is holding its breath." 𝑛𝘰𝑣𝘱𝑢𝑏.𝘤𝑜𝘮
Up in front, the light was concentrated in what appeared to be an abandoned courtyard. But here’s the thing—only the center was lit. The rest around it was black as coal, as if the ruins had been devoured by darkness on purpose. Too neat. As if someone—or something—had painted a circle of light in the middle of all this rot and just. left it there.
Leon crept closer; eyes fixed on that glowing center. He could feel the line where the light began. Right in front of him. The air was different there—warmer, almost buzzing, like he was standing at the edge of something sacred. Or dangerous. Or both.
Leon narrowed his eyes in confusions and called. "System," he called.
[Yes, Host?]
"That light. It should be bright enough to reach the whole ruin. Why is it isolated like that?"
A pause.
[System: Scanning area.]
Seconds passed.
[System: Scan complete.]
[A mana-based barrier is isolating the city center.]
[Source: Grandmaster-level formation.]
Leon blinked. "Grandmaster-level? You’re saying someone at Grandmaster Realm made that?"
[System: Affirmative.]
[ Only someone with high-tier mana control and power can construct a formation this precise and stable.]
[ Estimated age of barrier: recent.]
His heart raced in his chest. He was powerful, confident—already in Master Realm. He’d defeated newbie and mid-master realm beasts, even he has faith enough to have defeated peek of mortal realm cultivator with system’s assistance. But a Grandmaster? That was on another level. That was someone who could level mountains. Or destroy him without even breaking a sweat.
He stood there, taut, balancing the moment.
"I could withdraw," he grumbled to himself. "Summon the mansion guards. Perhaps even summon Aria to come. She’s handled high-level threats... due to higher cultivation than him."
But his eyes returned to the courtyard—the gentle, eerie blue light still throbbing like a pulse at its center.
What the hell was in there?
A whisper of wonder wrapped around his head, drawing him near. And then the flash of greed—the desire to know. A force that drew him, as if something deep in the ruins was summoning him, pushing him forward. He could sense it, a silent call to the unknown.
He balled his fists.
He knew they were here—some unknown faction with undefined objectives. He had no idea who they were, or what they were doing within these ruins, but if they were capable of constructing that, then whatever they sought must be worth something. Perhaps earth-shattering.
And if he gave up now?
He’d never forgive himself.
Leon gritted his teeth, took a deep breath.
If I desire great rewards," he growled, voice low, "then I’ve got to risk great things."
He took a step forward.
His boot struck the broken stone—
WHOOSH.
Instinct screamed.
Leon spun on reflex, just avoiding a blow meant for his back. His body reacted faster than thought, twisting in mid-air and landing in a crouch, his arm up defensively, prepared for whatever was coming next.
A figure stood before him, dressed in black from head to foot. The hood was low, shadowing their face—no features, no expression. Just the emptiness of darkness, as if the figure belonged to the night itself.
Leon’s eyes narrowed; every muscle tensed. His senses went on high alert.
"You moved in without a sound. Impressive—" he started, his voice tinged with a hint of reluctant respect.
And then, just as he finished speaking, another presence brewed behind him. His stomach tightened with danger leaping, and before he had time to move, there was a blow, quick and hard.
THUD!
Pain burst in the back of his neck, and for an instant, his sight reeled crazily. The world tilted.
Another one?!
He stumbled, his knees giving way under him. The floor seemed to drop away as darkness closed in around his mind.
The last he saw before his awareness faded was a second hooded figure approaching him, serene and deliberate, their countenance shrouded just as the first. He attempted to keep himself awake, but his body had other plans.
Damn it.
And then, THUD.
Everything went dark.
The first hooded figure spoke to the second. "Do you think. he’s the one the Priestess foretold?"
The second figure’s tone was cold, detached. "I don’t know. Only the Priestess can tell."
They shared a glance—something unsaid, something understood.
The second figure brought up a hand, fingers tracing through the air as ancient magic slipped from their mouth. The air was filled with mana, pale blue, as it wove around them in a soft, almost reverent ballet.
Leon’s unconscious form rose upwards, as if buoyed by imaginary hands. His limp body floated, weightless, while the two figures started to walk further into the ruins.
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The figures crossed over the edge of the shining city center, the boundary wavering like liquid glass, an unseen pulse that glittered with power.
In the center of the ruins was a broad courtyard, old and quiet. Fallen pillars stood like shattered sentinels, protecting quiet stone houses. Roots had torn through walls and crawled over the roads, but here—at the center—the growth stopped, as if nature itself was afraid to intrude. The air vibrated with dense mana, heavy and thick, holding the land in balance.
And at her very core was a statue—a woman, close to twelve feet high, hewn out of stone with godlike precision. Her features were so delicately cut they appeared to be alive: long, flowing locks of hair, robes which flowed like water over her stone body, and a peaceful but strong face that was beyond mortal limits. She was not just a statue—she was divine.
Her stone eyes looked into eternity. Her hands clasped in silent prayer, as if she possessed a secret the world wasn’t yet prepared to hear. A soft white light surrounded her, and it was as if even time itself curved around her, respecting her stillness.
Floating above her, in the center of a circular dais covered in ancient symbols, hovered a mystical relic—a chakra.
It shone with brilliant blue-white light, rotating slowly, soundlessly. The chakra divided evenly into four equilateral quadrants, each quadrant containing a fist-sized cavity—awaiting, nearly as if keys had not yet been inserted.
Standing beneath this statue was another person.
Wrapped in flowing black garments, her face hidden entirely under a thick hood, she grasped a long staff. The staff curled at the tip into the form of a crescent moon, made of silvery crystal that glowed in perfect synchrony with the twin moons overhead. She stood motionless, an aura of serene but commanding power emanating from her. Her head was slightly bent towards the statue, as if in silent respect, her presence nearly otherworldly in its beauty.
Then, a subtle change. Her brows furrowed, a faint twitch in her face. She felt something—an echo in the air.
"...Someone just crossed the barrier," she whispered to herself, her voice soft but sharp with purpose.
Her eyes turned toward the source of the disturbance.
Footsteps. Heavy, steady.
Then she saw, the two cloaked figures entered the courtyard, bearing Leon’s unconscious form between them. They approached the Priestess, bowing deeply.
Priestess," one of them said, with respect in each word. "We discovered this man roaming the outer ruins."
The Priestess swiveled around, her actions fluid, like a dancer during a ritual. She looked down at Leon’s body as it was carefully set upon the stone floor.
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, time appeared to slow.
His looks were remarkable—sharp, angular, flawless and captivating, but unmistakably strong. There was something about him, something that pulled at her, as if he was chiseled from the very fabric of divinity itself.
"Handsome." she breathed softly to herself, so quietly that only she could hear. ".Like the divine."
She sat beside him, her white hand extending to move a lock of disheveled black hair back from his brow. The gesture lasted longer than it should, as if merely the act were nearly too personal, too close. His handsome face, so exposed in its stillness, held more of her interest than she allowed.
The hooded figure standing close by made a soft throat-clearing noise, breaking her trance. "Priestess, is that him?"
She blinked, slightly confused, and gradually shook her head. "I... I don’t know. Not yet. First, We awaken him. Then we shall see."
She clinched her staff tightly and raised it high, the crescent moon on its tip blazing with ancient energy.
A burst of blue light exploded from the staff, spilling like warm spring rain over Leon’s bruised form.
His chest rose.
A twitch.
And then his fingers curled. Golden eyes snapped open, locking gazes with the soft, pulsating light overhead. The three hooded men standing over him resolved into clarity.
Instinct swamped his brain. He had no concept of where he was, or why they’d brought him there—but it was irrelevant. Hostility flooded through him.
He fired upright, his body reacting before his brain could properly get its bearings on what was happening. He rolled back, leapt up to his feet—his boot on broken stone—and dove into a defensive position right away. Arms raised, stance in Voidbreaker martial art form.
"Who are you?" he snarled, voice low and menacing, his eyes lighting up with alertness and caution. "Why the hell did you bring me here?
His eyes became cold, as he looked the three clocked figure in front of him.
