Chapter 82 : Chapter 82

Chapter 82. A Hundred-Year Dream (Double Chapter)

“Mana... can no longer be guided!”

The shock and gravity in Irene’s voice, unlike anything he had ever heard from her before, instantly chilled him to the bone.

Mana could no longer be guided?! What did that mean?

It meant that this unfathomable elven princess had, at this moment, lost her greatest source of strength.

Eli’s mind went blank, but he had no time to be stunned or to question her.

The instinct to survive overwhelmed everything else.

“Hold your breath!” Eli practically roared.

He drew “Silver” from his waist, and a flash of cold light swept out.

Shhk—!

Without the slightest hesitation, the sharp blade sliced off a large, relatively clean piece of linen from the inner lining of his leather armor.

He thrust the still-warm strip of cloth into Irene’s hands.

“Cover your mouth and nose! Even if it only helps a little, it’s still better than nothing!”

Irene instinctively caught the cloth, still carrying the scent of sweat and dust.

Looking at Eli’s anxious face, her lips moved slightly.

In the end, she still obeyed and covered her mouth and nose with the rough cloth.

The moment he was done, Eli turned and charged toward the massive obsidian doors that had just slammed shut on their own.

With a low roar, battle aura burst from him. The muscles across his body bulged like stone as both palms struck the cold, heavy doors.

“Open—aaaah!!!”

Veins bulged across his forehead as he shoved forward with all his strength.

The enormous stone doors did not move in the slightest. Not even a speck of dust fell.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Unwilling to accept it, Eli threw himself against them again and again with his shoulder.

“It’s useless... that is... obsidian Dragon-Severing Stone... once it falls... it cannot be opened... by human strength...”

Irene’s muffled voice came through the cloth over her face, weak and bitter.

Eli’s heart sank straight to the bottom.

No, I cannot die here.

He turned, his bloodshot eyes sweeping wildly across the hall in search of any possible path to survival.

The walls, the ceiling, the floor...

Nothing.

Aside from the huge, cold obsidian coffin in the center, there was nothing else.

There was no time left.

“Damn it!” Eli cursed fiercely and looked toward the giant coffin.

He did not hesitate any longer. Right before Irene’s shocked eyes, he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her.

At the same time, he yanked out Gulu, who was nearly scared senseless in his pocket, and shoved it into the inner layer of his leather armor against his chest.

Holding Irene, Eli rushed to the massive obsidian coffin in just a few strides.

Grinding his teeth, he gathered every last shred of strength in his body and drove it into his right leg.

Then he kicked viciously at the seam where the lid met the body of the coffin.

“Open for me—!”

Boom—!

A heavy, muffled blast rang out.

The weighty lid actually slid backward from the force of the kick, opening a narrow gap barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through sideways.

“Get in first!”

Without giving Irene any chance to react or resist, Eli shoved her inside while holding her, as roughly as if he were stuffing a sack into storage.

He forced both of them into the coffin.

Then he braced his shoulder hard against the edge of the shifted lid and, with the last bit of strength he had left, slammed it back into place.

Creeeak—bang!

The lid closed again.

It did not seal perfectly tight, but it at least blocked most of the gray-white poisonous gas from pouring in.

The interior of the coffin instantly sank into a darkness so thick it felt suffocating.

“Hah... hah... hah...”

Eli leaned against the cold, smooth inner wall of the coffin, gasping violently for breath.

That explosion of effort had nearly exhausted all his strength and battle aura.

At that moment, his whole body felt limp. Even moving a finger was difficult.

Irene, whom he had forcibly dragged inside, finally came back to herself from the extreme shock.

She broke free from his arms and fumbled her way to the opposite side of the coffin wall.

Nothing could be seen in the darkness, but her hurried breathing was just as audible.

When had the elven princess ever been treated in such a... rough manner?

“Your Highness!”

“Inside here... is there less of that gas? Can you... guide mana now?”

In the darkness, Irene remained silent for several seconds.

She seemed to be trying, but soon a suppressed sigh, heavy with frustration, escaped her.

“No... the coffin... blocks the outside... but it has also... formed a smaller... anti-magic field... Mana... is still being suppressed...”

Their last hope... shattered.

Eli felt his vision darken.

He could no longer hold himself up. His body slowly slid down the cold wall of the coffin until he collapsed helplessly onto the bottom.

It’s over... I never should have gotten the urge to come play archaeologist...

Obsidian Territory had only just begun to take shape. Lucerne City was still waiting for him to return. Aila... and all those people who trusted him, who followed him...

He could not die here! Absolutely not!

Bitterness and regret gnawed at his heart like venomous snakes.

But the weakness overtaking his body and the increasingly obvious dizziness reminded him, with ruthless clarity, of reality.

“Wuuu...”

Gulu struggled out from the inner layer of Eli’s leather armor.

“Lord Gulu... is going to die... the continuation of the elves... is gone too...

It’s all your fault, you damned human... wuuu...”

In the darkness, Irene’s breathing seemed to stop for a moment.

A moment later, a choked sound filled with deep pain and crushing guilt broke out.

Then came broken, intermittent sobs.

“I’m... I’m sorry...” Irene’s voice was utterly shattered.

“It... it was I... who dragged you into this...”

The proud elven princess was crying in front of others for the first time, and saying “I’m sorry” for the first time.

Eli’s consciousness grew blurrier and blurrier, and even his thoughts began to break apart.

With difficulty, he shifted his eyes. Using the faint sliver of light leaking in through the gap in the lid, he finally made out the inside of the coffin.

There were no decayed bones inside, as he had expected.

At the bottom of the coffin, there was a thick layer of... gold bricks?!

And above those cold gold bricks, there was even... a bed.

It had been carved from some unknown kind of warm, lustrous white jade, and it was covered with dark red velvet.

Gold grave goods, clay soldiers standing guard, a white-jade bed...

With a setup like this... it was not the worst place to die...

A bitter, self-mocking smile tugged at the corner of Eli’s mouth.

Struggling with the very last of his strength, he crawled a short distance, turned over, and rolled himself onto the cold white-jade bed.

If he had to die, then rather than lying on the freezing gold bricks... he might as well die in a little more comfort.

The instant his body fully touched the white-jade bed—

Hiss—!!!

From the seams at the base of the bed, a large amount of even denser pinkish-white gas burst out without warning.

“Urgh...”

A violent wave of dizziness shot straight to Eli’s head.

He did not even have time to cry out before everything went black.

Beside him, Irene seemed to notice that something was wrong, but it was already too late.

She only had time to let out a short, muffled groan before her body went limp and collapsed.

Their consciousness...

fell toward an endless abyss like kites with snapped strings...

...

Warmth.

A long-lost warmth wrapped around his entire body, as though he were soaking in heated water.

What met his eyes were wooden roof beams, at once familiar and strange.

Beneath him was a heated kang bed covered with thick cotton bedding, soft and comfortable.

Where... was this?

He sat up blankly. He was dressed in a clean coarse cloth shirt.

Looking around, he found himself in an extremely simple but spotless peasant hut.

With a creak, the door was gently pushed open.

A woman in a plain cloth dress, her hair pinned up in a bun, walked in carrying a steaming bowl of porridge.

Her features were delicate and gentle, and around her brows and eyes lingered a familiar outline...

Irene?!

But her entire bearing was completely different. That ethereal detachment was gone.

“Awake?”

“You must have been exhausted yesterday. Hurry and drink some porridge to warm yourself.”

She naturally reached out and lightly touched Eli’s forehead with the back of her hand.

Her eyes were full of concern and... love?

Eli froze.

Memories surged into his mind like a tide, but they were not memories of Obsidian Territory or the mausoleum.

They were memories of this village.

Of the woman before him, Irene.

Of the two of them growing up together as childhood sweethearts...

Of their parents arranging their marriage when they were still young...

Of the two of them marrying naturally once they came of age...

Of their plain, happy life together...

The memories were so real, so vivid.

“I...”

Eli parted his lips, and a strange sense of belonging rose in his heart.

“Drink up before it gets cold.” Irene smiled and urged him on, her eyes curving brightly.

And so the days flowed on like the clear stream beside the village, calm and joyful.

They rose with the sun and rested at sundown.

They sweated together in the fields and shared simple meals amidst the drifting smoke of the cooking fire.

At night, they squeezed together on their crude but warm bed, talking in low voices about the small happenings of the day and looking forward to the next harvest.

Before long, Irene’s belly began to swell.

Ten months later, accompanied by a loud and healthy cry, a baby boy was born.

Two years after that, a lovely baby girl joined their little family as well.

Eli became the father of two children.

He awkwardly learned how to hold them. After a day of labor in the fields, he would drag his tired body home.

And the first thing he always did was scoop up the son and daughter waiting eagerly at the doorstep, making them burst into laughter.

Irene would watch from the side with gentle eyes full of happiness.

There was nothing earthshaking about their life. He watched his children grow up day by day, from tottering first steps to running as swiftly as the wind.

From babbling nonsense to calling out in clear voices, “Father,” “Mother”...

Time slipped quietly through their fingers, and wrinkles slowly climbed into the corners of their eyes.

Together they supported one another through spring plowing, summer toil, autumn harvest, and winter storage.

Together they saw their children grow, watched their parents pass away, and lived through the joys and sorrows of their neighbors.

They had argued. They had flushed with anger.

But in the end, they always fell asleep holding each other on the kang bed at night.

The years piled up one ring at a time, like the growth rings of the old locust tree at the entrance of the village.

When their children had grown up, married, and formed families of their own...

When Eli’s back was no longer straight, and Irene’s dark hair had turned completely white...

There were no vows that shook heaven and earth, only... day after day of staying by each other’s side.

At last, on a quiet night, like an oil lamp burning out,

Eli held Irene’s wrinkled hand and felt their breathing and heartbeats gradually weakening together.

Amid the soft sobbing of their children and grandchildren, the two of them slowly...

closed their eyes.

...

“Mm...”

A violent sense of suffocation yanked Eli out of that warm, lingering dream and back into reality.

He opened his eyes.

The same cold darkness still surrounded him.

But... that century-long life just now... that unforgettable love, that warmth of staying together through all things...

Every last bit of it was as vivid as if it had only just happened.

In the darkness, another pair of eyes opened at the same time.

Her gaze was just as full of bewilderment, shock, and... a depth of feeling that could not be put into words.

The memories of that hundred-year life as an ordinary married couple struck at her understanding like a tidal wave.

In her long elven life, she had never experienced such real, such soul-deep mortal love.

Their eyes met.

In absolute darkness, on the edge of life and death, beneath the impact of that immense century-long dream powerful enough to reshape the soul itself,

the boundary between reality and illusion blurred completely.

The emotions left behind from that life surged like a breached flood and, in an instant, smashed through every barrier of identity.

Eli’s breathing turned rough. He suddenly reached out

and yanked Irene, who was still lost in that overwhelming emotional shock, into his arms.

Irene’s body stiffened violently, and those starry eyes flew wide open in the dark. She seemed about to struggle.

But... it was too late.

The next moment, Eli’s burning lips were already pressed against Irene’s cool, soft mouth.

“Mmph—!” Irene’s pupils constricted instantly.

That familiar yet unfamiliar sensation, that racing throb born of all the tenderness they had shared countless times in the dream,

ignited the frozen lake of her heart that had lain cold for centuries like a prairie fire.

A sigh, almost like a sob, slipped from between her lips.

Not only did she fail to push him away, she instead responded to the kiss with clumsy yet unmistakable urgency, like a drowning person clutching at driftwood.

Her slender arms rose of their own accord and looped around Eli’s neck.

Eli’s arms tightened further, as though he wanted to knead the elf in his embrace completely into his flesh and blood.

Panting, he kissed her fiercely while fumbling with his hands,

slowly lifting the soft, burning body in his arms

onto that white-jade bed spread with dark red velvet...