The person everyone had written off as doomed marched relentlessly in the Valley of Forgotten Souls.
He was enveloped in mist so dense that the immediate world around him appeared as nothing more than a seemingly endless expanse of white.
Why was he still running even though there was no one pursuing him, one might wonder?
It was related to the fragment of divine knowledge mentioned in the 100th piece of the heavenly secret he had come to possess through sheer coincidence.
It was sheer coincidence indeed. He was in the right place at the right time. That's why he managed to fetch it.
The fragment of divine knowledge mentioned in the 100th piece was so rare and powerful that it had the potential to rewrite destinies.
It shed light on the most enigmatic part of the Overseer's life—his journey through time.
It outlined a series of steps that, if followed with unwavering conviction, could lead to the unthinkable: time travel!
To time travel, one needed to find their way into the Forgotten Soul Valley then just advance through its mists.
It was written in the heavenly secret that if one were to just keep at that against all odds, then the land area of the valley would end and a river unlike any other would appear.
This river would be split in its flow from the middle.
Half of it would be surging forward, while the other half would be flowing backward.
Depending on the flow that carried you, you would either go backward in time or forward.
So as long as he keeps advancing in this godforsaken place, he will be able to time travel!
It's just that it wouldn't be easy.
However, he had come prepared.
Ever since he got that heavenly secret, he had started to thoroughly prepare himself for time travel.
Even if the hunt hadn't taken place, he would have come here.
It's just that then he wouldn't be so badly injured and have a greater success rate at time traveling.
But now it seemed rather impossible.
Still, he was giving it a try.
If he succeeds, he will time travel.
If he fails, if he dies, then so be it.
Sal ran and ran in a straight line, not stopping, not even for a moment.
For the first few hours, he encountered no danger.
But he never let his guard down.
The Valley of Forgotten Souls was the most dangerous place known to man. Here, if one wanted to survive, they had to be vigilant every second of the day.
Without warning, the tranquility shattered.
Uwaaaaa!
Suddenly, an ear-piercing cry, reminiscent of a banshee's wail, erupted around him, so sharp Sal bled from his ears.
This sound would have startled anyone to a stop, but Sal didn't stop running. At the same time, he remained highly observant of his surroundings, looking for any sign of danger, ready to react to the slightest threat.
Whoosh!
As warm blood trickled out of his ear canals, a ghastly figure with a nebulous form and a seemingly endless void for a face pounced at him from within the mist. It was a meter tall.
Reacting with instinct honed through countless battles, Sal leaped to the side, executing a roll that barely evaded the ghost's grasp.
The spectral assailant wheeled in the air and pursued him with renewed fervor.
Sal quickly sprung to his feet and resumed his desperate sprint, pushing his beaten down and severely injured body to its limits, his lungs searing with each breath.
Yet, the figure chasing him was faster.
With every passing second, it seemed to reduce the distance between them.
Even Sal's best didn't seem like it was enough to keep it at bay.
He threw back an attack made of the last bit of spiritual energy he was left with, but as if the white ghost wasn't real, his attack passed through it.
It passed through his attack effortlessly.
Then it touched the back of his right arm after it closed the distance that existed between them.
As soon as that area of his body came in contact with it, his entire right arm vanished.
It was claimed by the white ghost who went away happily.
From the stump of Sal's shoulder, blood spurted violently and pain engulfed him. Waves of agony so great it would reduce the coldest of men to crying babies in an instant overwhelmed his senses. Yet, through sheer will, he clenched his teeth, refusing to give voice to his suffering, aware that any sound could draw further horrors from the mist.
Gegegegege!
Creepy laughter sounded in the distance. It was the same direction where the white ghost that had claimed his hand had gone.
It was laughing. Why?
A sense of foreboding washed over Sal. He was afraid that it held malicious intentions. However, he hoped he was wrong.
Unfortunately, he was right.
Uwaaaaa!!!
Multiple screams, each as terrifying as the first, filled the air, converging on Sal's location.
The mist around him churned violently as numerous white ghosts emerged.
"Damn it," Sal cursed under his breath.
This was the first time in hundreds of years that he wished to be proven wrong, yet he was proven right.
'My luck has really gone down hill ever since I obtained the heavenly secret of Time Travel,' Sal grimaced.