Although the wraith before them didn’t emit a particularly powerful aura, Saul remained vigilant, his entire being on high alert.

The Battle of Hanging Hands Valley had taken place a century ago, yet too many wizards had perished here. The chaotic spirits, combined with the long years of suppression, had birthed a number of eerie and terrifying pollutants.

However, just as Saul was about to cast a spell to strike first, Morden advised him not to attack the wraiths here unless absolutely necessary.

Some wraiths might appear alone, but disturbing one could provoke a chain reaction. If they accidentally triggered a trap, things could get much more troublesome.

Morden was an old hand in Hanging Hands Valley. Though he had long operated in the outer regions, he was powerful and knew more about this place than most.

Taking Morden’s advice, Saul reexamined the hanging corpse ahead.

So far, it hadn’t shown any signs of hostility.

And the diary gave no warning.

“Marsh, let’s skirt around it by hugging the cliffside.”

The coachman nodded, cast another glance at the hanging corpse in midair, gulped nervously, and carefully guided the carriage to the right.

Thankfully, the corpse made no objection to their “detour” and remained suspended over the left side of the cliff.

But just as the carriage passed the corpse and began heading farther away, Saul, who had been staring at the corpse the entire time, was startled to realize—it was still staring back at him.

At some point, that rotting body had twisted ever so slightly. Its half-skeletal face was now turned toward Saul, as if afraid he might run away.

As the carriage moved forward, the corpse continued to shift, rotating just a bit more—always keeping its gaze locked on Saul’s position.

“Has it set its sights on me?” Saul murmured.

Even the powerful Morden felt uneasy at the sight. While he had been a Second Rank wizard in life, his soul was now fragmented in death, and he was no longer among the strongest wraiths here. The ones closer to the Borderland were far more powerful—and far more contaminated.

None of the other consciousnesses within the diary spoke.

They knew there was little they could do here, so each of them kept quiet, not wishing to disturb the conversation between Morden and Saul.

[Morden: This… I’m not entirely sure. But we haven’t provoked it, so it shouldn’t have any reason to target us, right?]

Though the diary had issued no warning, Saul did not let down his guard.

He instructed the coachman to pick up the pace slightly, splitting his attention between the path ahead and the receding corpse behind them.

But just as the corpse was about to disappear from view, it suddenly raised both arms and began swinging them like a marionette. Its feet dangled, swaying side to side.

“What’s it doing?” Saul asked the consciousnesses in the diary to take a look at the corpse.

An offered a cautious guess, “Is it… dancing?”

At first, none of them could make sense of it—but once the idea was planted, the rest of the men started to think An might be right.

Thankfully, aside from dancing, the corpse did nothing else out of the ordinary.

The carriage continued deeper into the valley. The cliffs on either side drew closer and closer—until they encountered the Head Monsters!

These creatures hid in crevices between rocks. If not for Saul maintaining a meditation technique, he might’ve missed their skin, which was the same color as stone, and their unnaturally pale eyes.

The head creatures left a lasting impression on Saul.

They had silently devoured several high-ranking apprentices. Even formidable ones like Billy and Wright had been unable to escape the head creatures’ encirclement.

[Herman: Morden, weren’t you once the leader of these head creatures? Can you command them to retreat?]

[Morden: If I could, I would. But the truth is, the power I used to control these monsters came from the pollution itself. Now that I’ve broken free from it, I’ve also lost my connection to the head creatures.]

Hearing this, Saul felt a tinge of disappointment. But he quickly pulled his thoughts back, reminding himself not to fall into old patterns of thinking.

By now, the head creatures had drawn closer to the carriage. They moved with astonishing agility on their legless stumps, balancing their oversized heads as they encircled the group.

Saul summoned the Shadow Spirit Blade, ready to face them head-on—when suddenly, one of the head creatures stopped a few meters away and… appeared to start dancing.

They bounced around Saul, hopping on one foot and then the other, like balls being slapped against the ground.

But even though they surrounded Saul, they didn’t block the path forward.

In other words, Saul could still proceed through them.

“Marsh.”

“Yes?” Marsh replied, his voice full of caution.

“Keep the carriage moving. Be careful not to fall into any of the holes in the ground,” Saul instructed.

Marsh nodded, stole a few glances at the head creatures with the corner of his eye, then quickly lowered his gaze. Drawing on years of experience, he calmed the horses and slowly urged the carriage forward.

As they delved deeper into Hanging Hands Valley, the once-smooth path grew barren and broken. The ground was dotted with pits and holes again.

These were the same types of holes as those in the outer region of the valley—tunnels left behind by people searching for survivors or looting the belongings of the dead. As such, one still had to tread with extreme care.

The head creatures weren’t fazed by Saul’s departure. They continued dancing in the place where he had once stood. Their thumping feet gradually formed a kind of rhythm.

[Agu: Are they… dancing with the hanging corpse from earlier?]

Saul recalled the motions of the corpse’s dance, then looked at the jubilant head creatures on the ground.

“Yes. The head creatures have no arms or legs, so their dancing is odd. They can only stomp their feet.”

[An: But why would they be dancing at all?]

Even after they left the head creatures behind, neither Saul nor his diary companions could figure out the purpose of the dance.

But after the carriage had gone a hundred meters or so, the rhythmic sounds behind them devolved into chaos. The dance became frantic and wild—nothing like the earlier harmony and elegance.

An seemed to have a thought—but it only led to more confusion.

[An: Are they… actually welcoming us?]

[Herman: An, you’ve got some imagination!]

An fell silent.

The carriage continued its slow journey, and the pit-filled ground began to smooth out again.

But now, from the depths of a few remaining holes came the sound of flowing water.

It seemed there was an underground river below.

Clearly, this hidden river was no ordinary one.

The horses, blindfolded, had been moving steadily. But for some reason, they began to shake their heads, and soon enough, they were flicking their tongues and stomping their hooves—dancing.

The rhythm of their stomping was nearly identical to the earlier head creatures.

Saul cast a Stabilizing Spell, and the horses calmed slightly. But before long, they suddenly bolted forward in a panic—heading straight for one of the holes.

Saul raised his hand, preparing to cast a spell—when a giant human face suddenly appeared!

The face was as large as the opening of the pit. As it rose, the hole became a flat surface, propping up the wheel and allowing the carriage to pass safely.

As the wheels rolled over it, they left deep tracks across its face. But instead of being angry, the giant face broke into a wide grin.

As its eerie laughter echoed through the valley, more and more faces emerged from the darkness below, covering the pit-riddled ground and forming a road for Saul’s carriage.

[Agu murmured: Could they really be… welcoming us?]

(End of Chapter)

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