Chapter 26: Inner

This world was pitch black, with no sky, no roads, no light, and nothing alive except for the boy himself.

The boy recalled that this was probably his fourteenth time coming here. 

Ever since his infancy, before he had even developed a sense of self, he had memories of this place.

At the center of this world was a dead object.

The boy did not know or understand why, in a place with nothing at all, he was certain that spot was the center.

Perhaps it was intuition.

To be precise, in a place without directions, as long as there was one definite point, it could easily become the center.

For now, that spot that could be called the center held a sword.

A sword that could hardly be called one. 

Rather than a sword, it was more like a silhouette formed from shadows—without a concrete shape. 

It twisted constantly like flames in extreme heat, distorting itself and the surrounding space, even though it was a pitch-black expanse of nothingness.

In earlier times, the center had been just a shadow point. 

Back then, the boy could not even speak, yet he instinctively wanted to approach it. 

But before he could crawl halfway there, the world vanished, and the dream ended.

After that, every year, the boy would come here. 

The shadow point at the center grew larger and larger. 

As the boy grew up, the shadow increasingly resembled a weapon, and in his dreams, he chased after its position time and time again.

This year, the shadow point seemed to have fully formed. So, as always, the boy chased toward it.

“Hmm… Isn’t this too easy?”

Unlike before, when he could run himself to death without catching up, this time the boy reached the shadow sword without any effort at all. He had not even needed to run.

It was strangely abnormal. It should have been impossible to catch up, just like always, yet this time it was unbelievably easy.

In the past, the shadow point had been like the sun overhead—visible but untouchable, seemingly close yet actually far away.

(But anyway, it’s just a dream. Even if I grab it, nothing will happen—probably.)

With that thought, the boy gripped the hilt.

Blinding light burst from the shadow sword.

When he opened his eyes again, the boy saw a different scene.

Bones covered the land—mostly human, with some belonging to monsters as large as mountains.

The sky was blood-red. 

The sun no longer emitted golden light; it was black, casting gray rays. 

Between the sky and the sun, there were no such things as clouds.

In front of him stood a boy, motionless at the center of this world, holding the shadow sword. 

The black sun shone eternally above him alone.

His appearance was hidden—not because something in this world blurred it, but because he wore a mask.

Though the face was unseen, the white hair and build seemed to indicate one thing.

The motionless boy and the moving boy appeared to be the same person.

Driven by instinctive curiosity, the boy approached what seemed to be another version of himself.

The distance was not far—only a few dozen meters—so it did not take long.

Stepping over the uneven bones, the boy reached himself with some difficulty.

It was just as he had guessed. 

That boy was indeed himself, but this motionless version seemed to have died standing. 

He was not breathing.

Just as the moving boy instinctively reached to take the sword from the motionless boy’s hand.

“Boom!”

The motionless boy suddenly leaned down and shouted in the boy’s ear. 

The sound startled the already tense boy, who immediately stepped back. 

But because of the bones on the ground.

He lost his footing, his body tipping out of control. 

As he closed his eyes, bracing for the pain, something caught him.

It was the motionless boy. 

He had grabbed the unfamiliar version of himself.

“I arrived so early? In my expectations, it should have taken me much longer to get here.”

The motionless boy spoke words the boy did not understand, so he voiced his deepest question.

“Who are you?”

“I am me—just not the current me. I’m the past me.”

Unexpectedly, the motionless boy gave a somewhat mind-bending answer.

“I thought you’d spout a bunch of riddles.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Probably because that’s how it usually is in storybooks. When someone meets their past self, they generally don’t tell the truth—they say a bunch of cryptic nonsense that even they don’t understand, then drag out the plot like crazy.”

The boy explained reasonably. 

For the sake of harmonious plot development, only those storybook authors could perfectly pad the word count and plant foreshadowing that way.

“There are quite a few errors in that. First, I’m not some past life of mine—I’m just me, not a second person. Second, if I wanted to, I’d tell myself everything.”

The motionless boy explained unhurriedly. 

As for the boy, he was not interested in such things.

“No need. I’m not interested in who I was before. I only care about my life now. Beyond that, I don’t care about anything.”

“Is that so? So I’m not interested in the truth. I thought I’d definitely be curious.”

The motionless boy sighed a little, but like the boy, he had no real interest in the matter.

“Can you chat with me?”

Out of nowhere, the motionless boy suddenly asked. 

The boy agreed—there was nothing else to do anyway.

They sat together on bones that were barely comfortable enough to sit on and began chatting.

Though it was called chatting, it was mostly the motionless boy asking questions and the boy answering.

“Am I happy?”

“That depends on what my standard for happiness is.”

“Having someone I love, people who love me, friends, food to eat, a place to live, a home—that’s happiness.”

The motionless boy’s standard for happiness was simple, which surprised the boy a bit.

“Then I’m very happy. I have someone I love, quite a few people who love me, and I suppose I have friends—though they might not see me as one. The food I eat every day is delicious, the house is comfortable, and as for home, I have a comforting, warm family member. She’s also the one I love.”

“Is that so? Then I’m satisfied. Have I asked my questions? It seems unfair if I’m the only one asking…”

The motionless boy’s face held a hint of embarrassment, as though he felt he was being too shameless.

“Why did you say I arrived too early?”

Of course the boy had questions for himself—and many of them.

“Because in my expectations, it should have taken me a long time to grasp the sword. Even after grasping it, more time to reach me. But you seem to have known your origin early on.”

“Origin? What’s that?”

Seeing the boy’s confused face, the motionless boy also looked puzzled.

“Don’t I know? Then how did I get here?”

The boy shrugged. He did not know the reason.

“Don’t know, huh? But it’s not important anyway. Any other questions?”

“Why is the sky here blood-red, and why is the sun black?”

“Because of resentment. The baleful qi has turned this place into something unsettling, but it’s useless against me.”

“Where does the resentment come from?”

“From them.”

The motionless boy pointed with his index finger at the bones scattered everywhere.

“I killed them, so they resent me and cling to me. But it’s no use—I’m strong, so even if the resentment affects the world itself, it can’t corrupt me.”

After saying that, the motionless boy looked up at the black sun. 

His expression turned somewhat sad—the boy noticed it in that instant.

“What’s wrong?”

“My time is running out. I’m about to wake up. I can’t talk to myself much longer. Next time, you and I won’t meet again. Do I have any other questions?”

“What exactly is this place?”

“The heart—the depths of the primordial spirit, where all secrets are buried. Do I really not want to know who I am?”

“Yeah. I want to explore that myself. Suddenly knowing the truth wouldn’t make me happy.”

“Is that so? I really am just like me—doing things my own way. Time’s almost up. One last instruction: If you reach the end of your rope, come here. This sword will help you.”

With those words, another burst of dazzling light forced the boy to close his eyes. When he opened them again.

The only thing Nanxi could feel was one fact: Master’s leg was pressing down on him again.