Arthur stared at Jason, bewildered by his revelation. Yet, deep down, he understood the implications: in a land once filled with dead souls, one living person wandered amidst the remnants.
So that's why he approached me. Arthur thought, grasping Jason's intentions.
If he were in Jason's position, he would have done the same, given the ominous state of the isle and the entity they faced, which could determine victory or defeat with a single mistake.
Jason seemed to wait patiently for Arthur to speak, his expression expectant. Taking a deep breath, Arthur finally broke the silence.
"I don't have much to share," he began, pausing to gather his thoughts. "It might sound ridiculous, but I just woke up here, and I don't remember anything that happened to me."
Jason listened intently, his gaze fixed on Arthur, as if trying to assess the truth in his words. Arthur's brief account seemed absurd—how could anyone simply wake up in an isolated area that was cut off from outside world for a decade?
This should be enough for them to not doubt me, Arthur mused, noting the skeptical glances from the others present. He decided to keep his explanation concise; if they chose to believe him, that was their prerogative.
After a moment, Jason sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "We don't suspect you of anything. It's just the abnormality of this world that makes me cautious. I try to consider every detail."
Arthur nodded, accepting Jason's reassurance. "So, what exactly happened on the isle? And what was that mountain of corpses at the center?"
His curiosity piqued, Arthur leaned in, eager to understand the truth behind the darkness that had enveloped the isle.
"I can't provide specific details about the entity's intentions," Jason replied, "but from my perspective and experience, it was manipulating souls, making them live as they once did. I don't know how it accomplished such a feat, but it was impressive enough that those husks appeared as real living beings. It would be nearly impossible for anyone to see through the illusion—unless they were high-tier mystics or had abilities related to the realm of souls, like me."
Mystic? Arthur thought, intrigued by the new terminology. Is that what they call those with mysterious abilities?
"Even though I gathered that much, I still couldn't pinpoint where the real culprit was hiding. I never imagined it was using that girl as a vessel, hibernating while manipulating souls for its own benefit," Jason lamented, feeling as if he had been played by the entity.
As Jason spoke, Arthur's mind drifted back to the peculiar way the people of the isle had looked at him. He recalled his exploration of the inn when he was on the mysterious city, the eerie silence of the inn, and how it felt like a ghost house. He remembered Lily's words about receiving news from someone who could leave the isle—only for that person to disappear when the barrier was breached like it was no coincidence.
So that's how it was, he thought, a bittersweet laugh escaping his lips.
Jason observed Arthur, noting the deep contemplation etched on his face.
"About the mountain of corpses," he continued, "the entity collected them there. I believe it was trying to harvest the essence of the souls as they lived and died repeatedly. By doing so, it amassed an incredible amount of essence. I don't know why it didn't take the essence directly; instead, it chose to collect it over time. That's why the spiritual energy in that area was so dense and concentrated with the essence of death. If it had managed to reclaim that essence, I doubt we would have escaped alive."
Jason sighed, a hint of relief washing over him. "And as for how I used the mountain of corpses and the mixed spiritual energy to form that giant gate, I can only say that I used them as a medium. It sounds easy, doesn't it?" he added with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
Arthur looked at Jason, his expression unreadable, as silence enveloped the inn. Finally, he broke the stillness. "What are mystics and higher-tier mystics?" he asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
Jason's demeanor shifted, becoming serious. "Aren't you one?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his tone.
"I am, but as I mentioned, I don't remember much," Arthur replied, attempting to ease the tension.
"Is that so?" Jason replied, still scrutinizing him, as if weighing the truth of his words.
"Mystics are individuals who wield mysterious abilities, existing on the fringe of the unknown world we inhabit. We live in darkness, and few know we exist. You'll never hear about mystic ability users in public; that's our reality—a world where even the smallest misstep can cost you your life," Jason explained, his voice grave.
"When you become a mystic, you start hearing things you shouldn't and seeing things you aren't meant to see. As your understanding expands, so does the danger. The more you seek to grow, the deeper you sink into the mysteries of the world, and eventually, you may lose yourself entirely," he continued, pausing to let the weight of his words sink in.
"As a mystic, you must be prepared for anything, for you will be stepping into the abyss. As they say, when you look into the abyss, the abyss looks back at you."