The carriage had been traveling for most of the day, and the scenery around them grew ever more desolate.
Buildings became sparser and more dilapidated, the land took on an unhealthy grayish-yellow hue, vegetation was scarce, and the air began to carry the taste of wind-blown sand.
At last, the carriage stopped in front of a lonely outpost, built from rough-hewn stones.
This was the Wall of Sighs Outpost, named after the low stone wall stretching far behind it, meant to symbolically separate the dangerous region beyond.
In truth, it could not stop any real threat at all, serving more as a psychological boundary.
Inside the outpost, there were only a handful of people dressed in worn priest robes and low-ranked clerical garb, along with a small squad of Dustfolk Guards, their Saint Marks glowing so faintly they were nearly indistinguishable from ordinary folk.
Their faces were marked by exhaustion and numbness, the kind that comes from long-term tension and lack of resources.
The one in charge of receiving them was a middle-aged Priest.
His Saint Mark seemed in poor condition, and his face was pale.
As he spoke, his breath was unsteady: “Lady Saintess, you’ve finally arrived. Lately… things have been so strange. The production of Light Honey hasn’t decreased, but the purity of what’s refined just won’t rise, as if something… has diluted it. And no one can seem to lift their spirits, plus everyone’s having nightmares at night.”
He took a deep breath and continued, “We’ve checked many times, but haven’t found any definite evidence of Darkspawn activity.” Liang Lai nodded slightly.
“Take me to see the Light Honey collection point and the places where the believers gather.”
She followed the Priest, patrolling the sparse Dustfolk settlements around the outpost, sensing the Faith Power in the air.
Indeed, the Faith Power here was abnormally thin and chaotic, like a muddied surface of water, unable to gather.
She tried chanting the Prayer of Solace, and gentle white light spread out from her as the center.
The surrounding Dustfolk felt the Saintess’ power and all knelt to the ground; the weariness on their faces seemed to ease a little, and their Saint Marks briefly grew a touch brighter.
But Liang Lai frowned slightly.
Her power, as if cast into the sea, could stir up only the faintest ripple, unable to truly dispel the invisible stagnation permeating the air.
This resistance was unusual, not like the result of wavering faith, but more as if… the environment itself had gone wrong?
She decided to expand the range of her investigation.
Perhaps outside the outpost, in the real buffer zone, she might find some clues.
The Command hadn’t clearly required her to cross the boundary, but it hadn’t strictly forbidden it either—it had only emphasized “investigation.”
When she expressed her intent to the Priest at the outpost, he became very anxious.
“Lady Saintess, outside the wall… it’s dangerous out there! It’s not quite the Rust Frontier, but it’s at the very edge of Order, and there are always strange wanderers, even… rumor has it, Witches and Bloodthirsters have been spotted! Please be careful!”
“I can protect myself.”
Liang Lai displayed her Saintess Medal, which contained a one-time, powerful Sacred Miracle for protection.
Not only that, she even faintly hoped to encounter some danger—so she could try out those new, mutated Crystalization Abilities she’d learned from her predecessor’s diary.
Alone, she stepped through the gap in the Wall of Sighs.
The view ahead suddenly opened wide, yet was even more desolate.
This was a vast and barren transition zone.
The ground felt abandoned and eroded, broken and cracked in broad swathes, exposing dark red rocks, withered bushes scattered everywhere.
In the distance stood several megalithic formations, deeply weathered and eerily shaped.
Dust filled the air, carrying a faint metallic tang, the scent of rust.
Even the sky here seemed gloomier than within the Holy Court’s borders; sunlight barely pierced the thin clouds, casting blurry patches of light on the ground.
Silence.
Yes, silence—but not peace.
Instead, it was a silence filled with a lurking, restless agitation.
The wind howled through the cracks in the stone, and it was anything but gentle—instead, it was shrill.
Liang Lai advanced cautiously, extending her senses.
She could feel the energies here were chaotic and wild.
The Faith Power of the Holy Court had grown extremely faint, replaced by a force that was more primal, more savage, and… more repellent to her own power.
No wonder the Faith in the Dustfolk area had been affected; it was like two rivers colliding here, forming whirlpools and hidden currents.
She stopped beneath a massive, weathered cliff, trying to sense the subtler flow of energies.
Just then, a voice—brisk and utterly out of place in this setting—suddenly came from the top of a huge boulder behind her:
“Hey! Look who it is! Isn’t this our esteemed Third Saintess, Lady Liang Lai? What a rare guest~”
Liang Lai’s heart skipped a beat.
She spun around instantly, holy power gathering unconsciously to form a faint shield around her.
She looked up.
There sat a girl, relaxed, legs dangling from the boulder.
She wore an old, somewhat oversized black robe, with two dark patches neatly sewn at the cuffs and hem, giving her a look of battered but tidy resilience.
Her long, thick purple hair was naturally curly, cascading like a waterfall over the grayish rock, its ends dusted with dirt.
Her face was thin, her skin darkened from years of exposure to wind and sand, but her violet eyes shone brightly and clear.
She looked young, slender and tall—taller than Liang Lai by a forehead.
The most striking thing was, there wasn’t a trace of a Saint Mark on her brow.
A non-believer?
Or…?
Liang Lai watched her warily, searching her memories, certain she’d never seen this face before.
“Who are you?”
The girl leapt from the boulder, a few meters high, landing soundlessly and lightly as a cat.
She dusted her hands and hopped right up to Liang Lai, ignoring the faint pressure from the holy light shield, beaming so close their faces nearly touched.
“Me~? Don’t you remember me~? That’s so heartbreaking, boohoo… We were old friends, you know~” Her tone was intimate and exaggerated, as if complaining to a close friend forgotten after many years.
Liang Lai furrowed her brows, stepped back half a pace to put distance between them, her voice growing cold, “I don’t know you. Please leave—I am carrying out Holy Court duties.”
A premonition stirred in her heart. This girl was no harmless soul.
“Duty? You came all the way to this godforsaken place to carry out duties?”
The girl spread her arms, glancing around at the desolation, then suddenly leaned in, her dark purple eyes fixed on Liang Lai, her smile turning a touch sharper.
“Is it because… you sense that the ‘faith’ here feels wrong? Like watered-down swill—drink it, and not only does it lack strength, it leaves you dizzy and confused, am I right?”
Liang Lai’s heart tensed once more.
This girl seemed to know something.
But she insisted, “I’ll say it again. I don’t know you. If you continue to obstruct me, I will treat you as a heretic.”
It was little more than bravado.
“My, how fierce~ Lady Saintess, now that you’ve risen in status, you don’t recognize old friends?”
Far from being frightened, the girl only made a hurt gesture, pressing a hand to her chest, though her eyes still sparkled with mischief.
“Or is it that after staying too long in the Court of Purity, drinking too much of that Papal Blood Holy Wine, you’ve really forgotten everything—events, and people alike?”
Her tone remained light, but the content of her words made Liang Lai’s heart give a sudden jolt.
Papal Blood Holy Wine… that was an inner secret of the Saintess. How could a Dustfolk from the outskirts, apparently a non-believer, know of it?
Liang Lai’s gaze turned ice-cold, her hand on the Saintess Medal, which had begun to heat up, ready to activate its Sacred Miracle at any moment.
“Who are you, really? How do you know about these things?”
How to put it? Though Liang Lai found the girl before her strange and unsettling, she couldn’t sense any killing intent or malice from her—in fact, she felt a faint sense of closeness.
It was odd, but she just couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d met somewhere before.