Chapter 222: How Did This Skeleton Get Here?

On the other end of the Central Mountains, the Minotaur aunt was picking mushrooms in the field; mushrooms were nutritionless and oily, and nobody really liked eating them.

Legend said that in the main plane, some people loved mushrooms so much they fried them in butter with spices—they were delicious.

The Minotaur aunt really wanted to try, so she went to ask people what butter was…

Although mushrooms weren't tasty, when mixed into white clay, they could fill the stomach without causing bloating; every time the Eternal Night approached, the Minotaur aunt would dig up some, mix it into white clay to make white clay cakes, and eat them with grain—only half the grain was needed to feel just as full.

Saving half the grain made surviving the Eternal Night easier; when she was young, the Minotaur aunt didn't understand why a darkness lasting only one month was called the Eternal Night—until she went hungry for the first time, and then she understood.

In hunger, darkness stretched each second into eternity.

Since then, the Minotaur aunt's greatest hobby was finding food; her second hobby was matchmaking.

As she picked, the Minotaur aunt unknowingly neared the Land of Silence—when suddenly, the sky darkened without warning, and ribbons of multicolored light descended, staining the heavens in radiant hues; the Eternal Night had arrived.

As the Eternal Night fell, the earth trembled slightly; suddenly, a pale white hand bone pierced through the soil and landed on the Minotaur aunt's hoof.

"Ah!" Startled, the Minotaur aunt kicked hard, sending the bone flying, and leapt backward several steps.

But once she saw what she'd kicked away, she wasn't afraid anymore; she patted her chest and said: "You scared the life out of me! Couldn't you have announced yourself before popping up?!"

A gray-white skeleton, missing one hand, emerged from the ground and heard her complaint; it turned its hollow eye sockets toward her, its jawbone clicking open and shut several times.

"There." The Minotaur aunt either understood or didn't, but she pointed her large hand at the kicked-away bone.

The gray-white skeleton propped itself up with one hand, walked over to its bone, picked it up, reattached it, and stood there bewildered.

Not far away, another skeleton—perhaps buried too deeply—had its upper body sticking out of the soil while its lower half remained stuck, straining and straining and straining, unable to free itself.

The Minotaur aunt hurried over and cheerfully said: "Here, let me help you."

She gripped the skeleton's ribs with both hands and pulled hard.

The upper body came free, but the lower half stayed buried—CRACK—the skeleton split into two pieces.

The upper half of the skeleton sat up, bewildered, glanced at its lower half still in the earth, then looked blankly at the Minotaur aunt.

The Minotaur aunt was mortified: "Sorry, sorry…" She apologized while backing away, and once at a safe distance, turned and ran.

The upper half of the skeleton clicked its jaw in silent accusation, then crawled over itself, dug into the ground, and unearthed its own lower half.

As the Minotaur aunt ran, hand bones erupted from the earth one after another across the entire land, white skeletons rising one by one, stretching like a white carpet to the horizon's end.

Moments earlier, the Land of Silence had been empty; now it was filled with skeletons and zombies.

Seeing this, the Minotaur aunt was stunned and ran even faster; once inside the town, she pounded the stone drum frantically: "Here it comes! The Eternal Night's here! The Undead Tide! Come out and see!"

The villagers, who had been waiting for this day, quickly fetched small stools or climbed onto rooftops to watch the magnificent spectacle.

For the living creatures dwelling east of the Central Mountains, undead beings were unavoidable; rather than trembling in fear, it was better to enjoy the spectacle—after all, undead beings never killed anyone.

Undead beings had no desires or needs; wise, high-level undead were few and consumed little, yet possessed infinite labor, easily meeting all demands, with no reason to oppress the living.

To put it bluntly, the living east of the Central Mountains were more like free-range pets—no one oppressed a herd of pets, and sometimes they even came to feed them.

And here they came: six spectral steeds with glowing red eyes and hooves wreathed in blue flame, dragging a wide carriage racing toward them.

The village elder hurried forward and called out loudly: "Oh, is it the Great Sage? May your soul rest in peace."

The carriage halted before the elder; a wizard with a solid, tangible form, white hair and beard, clad in robes and holding a staff, stepped down gracefully, removed his hat, and bowed in return:

"And may your body be healthy, uh—let me see, this is Qiaotoubao Village, you're Xiao Kamor the Twenty-First? Since I first met your ancestor, twenty-one generations have passed—how's your health? When are you planning to pass on?"

"Great Sage, you're telling me to die sooner? That's not a good blessing," complained Xiao Kamor the Twenty-First.

"What's wrong with dying sooner? Look at your bones—they're osteoporotic," the Great Sage patted the elder's shoulder with disdain.

He then asked: "How's the harvest these past few months? Enough to eat?"

Elder Kamor hurriedly replied: "Thanks to your blessings, the harvest was good—we have enough to eat. We'll survive this Eternal Night."

"Good, good, then I'll skip your village. I don't know if the villages ahead have harvests—every extra grain saves another life. Since you have enough, I'll leave you more salt; salt mines are getting harder to dig, and salt will only grow scarcer—use it sparingly," the Great Sage said, both pleased and weary.

"Ah, the salt mines are shrinking? What are we going to do?" Elder Kamor flustered, but the moment the Great Sage pulled out the salt sack, he snatched it instantly, without hesitation.

Every year during the Eternal Night, the Great Sage drove around to deliver aid; if a village's harvest was poor, he left grain; if a village had enough, he left extra salt.

Salt was more precious than grain, for grain could be grown, but salt could only come from the Great Sage—or smuggled back by undead merchants from the west.

Salt deficiency had dire consequences; hearing the salt mines were shrinking, Elder Kamor panicked—but beyond panic, he had no solution; if even the Great Sage couldn't fix it, he certainly couldn't.

He couldn't dig the salt mines himself—skeletons and zombies couldn't dig them, so humans certainly couldn't.

"Alright, is there anything else you need help with? If not, I'll head to the next village," the Great Sage asked.

"Oh yes, yes! Last Eternal Night, we mentioned the well—we've gathered all the materials. Please, Great Sage, help us dig a well, so we won't have to wait for the Eternal Night's flood just to get water."

"Dig a well? Hmm, it's pointless—surface water is shallow; water appears for a month, then vanishes for the next two—you'll still need to store it. Fine, where are the materials?"

Though he claimed it was useless, the Great Sage still went to the pile of materials, waved his staff, and the ground swiftly rose into a column of mud—rising, rising, rising.

After rising over ten meters, the column tilted sideways, revealing a deep vertical shaft; water had already begun pooling at the bottom.

The Great Sage waved his staff again; the piled materials flew up as if gripped by an invisible hand—the Mage Hand.

The materials landed inside the well, rapidly stacking to form and reinforce the walls, preventing collapse.

"There. Once more: the well is useless—you still need to store water regularly, or you'll die of thirst," the Great Sage warned.

"Yes, yes, I know it's useless, but we just want to extend the time between water runs. During the Eternal Night, everyone crowds to the river to fetch water—it's too dangerous. With a well, we can draw water safely right here," Elder Kamor replied.

"Fair point. Alright, I'm off. May you pass on soon," the Great Sage waved without turning, heading toward his carriage.

Elder Kamor was furious: "Goodbye, and may your soul never rest."

Just as the Great Sage was about to step onto his carriage, a long, horn-like cry echoed from the Land of Silence: Oooh—oooh—oooh—

The Great Sage froze, turned toward the sound, and murmured: "Huh? How did this skeleton get here?"

PS: Last night my colitis flared up and I've been in pain ever since—late, posting one chapter for now.