Yi Lian's breath caught as he reached into the depths of his mind, instinctively calling upon the system that had always been there—his constant companion. He had faced many challenges before, but this eerie affliction draining the villagers was beyond his understanding. Yet, he believed that with his Appraisal, he could uncover the truth.
He closed his eyes, centering his thoughts, willing the familiar power to manifest. Appraisal.
A moment passed, but nothing happened.
He tried again, desperation creeping into his voice. Appraisal!
The usual response—the flow of information, the cold, detached details—never came. Instead, there was a sharp, jarring sensation, like the very fabric of the world around him was tearing apart. It felt as if the foundation of his power was being unraveled. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as a sharp pain shot through his mind, blurring his vision.
It… it didn't work.
He opened his eyes, his mind reeling with confusion and frustration. He had always been able to rely on his system. It had been his tool, his strength, his only constant in this strange world. But now, even though the system was still there, it wasn't functioning. He was breaking apart, still unhealed—and the system couldn't work in his fractured state.
Yi Lian gritted his teeth, trying to push past the panic rising in his throat. He focused again, attempting to will the system to function, to grant him the knowledge he so desperately needed to save the villagers.
The realization hit him like a physical blow: he was no longer a cultivator.
He was a mortal—stripped of everything that had once been his strength. His power, his potential, was gone.
Frustration surged through him. His fingers clenched into fists as he stared at the lifeless, pale villagers around him. They were still going through the motions of life—walking, talking, eating—yet their spirits were empty. They were fading before his eyes, their vitality sucked away, leaving only withered shells. And he could do nothing. Nothing.
The helplessness gnawed at him, the weight of his impotence pressing down on him like a physical force. His eyes darted from one hollow, vacant face to the next, his heart heavy with despair. He wanted to help, to do something, anything, to stop this tragedy. But he had no power. No means to intervene.
He looked up, his gaze traveling over the village, searching for anything—any clue, any sign of hope. His feet carried him through the empty streets, through the silent homes, but everything felt lifeless, the air thick with an oppressive stillness. The village was dying, slowly but surely, and he was powerless to stop it.
With a deep sigh, Yi Lian began to search the surrounding area. He ventured deep into the forests that bordered the village, hoping to find some trace of what had caused this affliction. He scoured every corner, every path, every hidden crevice in the woods. But no matter where he searched, there was nothing. The forest, dense and ancient, offered no answers. It was as if the land itself had swallowed any hint of the truth, leaving him with only silence.
His frustration boiled over, the inner conflict threatening to consume him. He was just a man. A powerless mortal. All his past strength, all the power he had once wielded—gone. And in its place, he was left with a deep, gnawing sense of inadequacy.
He stopped at the edge of the forest, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders. The villagers' skeletal forms haunted his mind, their faces burned into his memory.
It was too much. Too overwhelming. He wasn't strong enough to stop this, to save them. But as he stood there, a thought began to form in his mind.
A full month passed, and Yi Lian had resigned himself to an uneasy waiting game. The village, which had once felt like a desolate tomb, suddenly stirred to life once again.
Yi Lian walked down the streets, his eyes darting from one house to the next. It was as if the villagers were reborn, no longer skeletal figures but full of life and energy, just as they had been before. A strange sense of relief washed over him. At least they were alive again, he thought. But something felt off. A knot twisted in his stomach, and his instincts screamed that something was wrong.
He approached the first villager he saw, a middle-aged woman, and asked, "How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened? You were… deteriorating, becoming like a skeleton. Do you recall that?"
The woman looked at him blankly, her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about? We're fine. Life is life, as it is."
Yi Lian's heart sank. He couldn't just leave it there. He pressed on, urgency creeping into his voice. "No, no! You were dying! You were all dying, and now you're back alive! How do you explain that?"
The villagers, now gathering around, turned toward him with bewildered expressions. Some of them chuckled, while others merely shook their heads, their faces a mask of confusion. The woman smiled kindly but dismissively. "You should rest, my boy. Maybe you're just tired from the long days. Nothing's wrong here."
Yi Lian's frustration boiled over, his voice rising. "You were dying! You were all dying, and now you're back alive! What's going on here?"
Some villagers laughed louder, others murmured amongst themselves, but no one seemed to take him seriously. One man clapped him on the back and said, "You've been working too hard, lad. The village is just fine."
The words echoed in Yi Lian's mind, but they only served to deepen his unease. He turned to the elderly farmer, hoping for clarity, but the old man simply stared at him, the disbelief written clearly across his face.
"Why are you shouting?" the farmer asked, his tone more confused than angry. "What are you talking about, boy?"
Yi Lian's anger surged. I'm not imagining this, he thought. I saw it happen. They were dying. Why can't they see it?
He clenched his fists, his voice trembling with intensity. "I'm not crazy! You were dying, all of you! You need to remember!"
Some villagers exchanged uncomfortable glances, the atmosphere turning thick with unease. A younger woman stepped forward, her voice tinged with nervousness. "Maybe… maybe it's best you take some time to rest. You're not looking well."
Yi Lian's heart raced. This wasn't right. The villagers couldn't be this blind. Then, one voice cut through the haze of his frustration.
"If you're so sure about what you saw, show us the evidence. Prove it," the voice challenged, cold and sharp.
Yi Lian froze. Evidence? What could he possibly show them? There were no broken bones, no skeletal remains—no sign of the horrors he had witnessed. It was as if the cycle had been erased, wiped clean as if it had never happened.
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. The villagers continued on, their disinterest growing. Slowly, they began to disperse, muttering amongst themselves.
"Take some time to rest," someone suggested, their tone patronizing. "Maybe you're hallucinating. Get some sleep, lad. You'll feel better."
Yi Lian's hands tightened into fists, his mind spinning. He had seen it. He knew what happened. But the villagers… they didn't remember. They couldn't see the truth, and it left him feeling more alone than ever.
A month passed, and the cycle began again.
Yi Lian didn't panic this time. His heart remained heavy, though. He knew what would happen, but there was no escape. He returned to the first house where the deterioration had begun.
Yi Lian stepped into the house, his pace deliberate, each footfall slow and steady. The room inside was dim, the light from the small window casting long shadows across the floor. His eyes immediately fell on a frail woman lying on the bed, her face flushed with fever. Her children hovered anxiously around her, their expressions shifting from concern to surprise as they noticed his presence.
"Who are you? What do you want?" one of the children asked, their voice trembling with uncertainty.
Yi Lian remained calm, his gaze unwavering. "I came to see what caused your mother's illness. There's something more to it than just sickness."
The children exchanged uneasy glances. "What do you mean? She's just sick... nothing more," the eldest child replied, stepping protectively in front of Yi Lian.
"I understand your concern," Yi Lian said, his tone firm but kind. "But I need to speak to your mother. It could be the key to understanding what's happening to everyone in the village."
The children hesitated before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing him to approach the sick woman. Kneeling beside her, Yi Lian placed a hand on her forehead, feeling the heat radiating from her fevered skin. He looked at her with quiet sympathy.
"How are you feeling?" Yi Lian asked, his voice low and soothing.
The woman blinked, exhaustion clouding her eyes. "I've been... unwell for days. Fever, chills... hard to explain," she mumbled weakly.
Yi Lian nodded, his expression growing more serious. He leaned in closer, whispering gently, "Do you remember when this illness started? Was there anything unusual before it began?"
The woman's eyes fluttered closed, her breath shallow. "I don't... remember much. I… I just…" Her words trailed off as another shiver wracked her body, her frailty becoming more evident by the moment.