Chapter 11:Buried in Oblivion
The apparition gazed at Peter with an emotionless face, as if she had forgotten how to express feelings. She had likely expected a different kind of question, yet she knew that sooner or later, such a question would be asked. After a moment, she answered in a sorrowful voice.
"Well, I can't say I wasn't expecting this question. If you truly want to know, then I have no choice but to answer." She took a deep breath before continuing.
"In this world, I have been… well, I'm not entirely sure how long, but around four years… maybe five? As I said, I'm not certain. As for how I died… well, you've probably already figured out that the ones responsible were the bandits you killed. When I first met them, they seemed kind and offered to travel together in search of shelter. How naive I was to trust them so blindly," she said, her voice breaking at the memory.
"Before they killed me, we set up camp, and they told me they would divide the night watch among themselves. They ordered me to go rest. And like a fool, I obeyed," she whispered, her eyes glassy with tears threatening to fall.
"Then… I woke up with a blindfold tied around my eyes. I didn't know what was happening. I-I was bound a-and then they…" The girl couldn't finish her sentence. Instead, she collapsed onto her knees, covering her face with trembling hands as sobs wracked her body.
Peter drove his sword into the ground, walked over to her, and knelt beside her, speaking softly."Calm down… It's okay… You didn't have to tell me."
He instantly understood the rest of the story. Just the thought of it filled him with fury. How can one human do such things to another? he thought, ensuring that his face remained expressionless. After a while, when the woman had stopped crying and was able to speak again, she asked,
"Is that all? Can you finally end this?"
Her tear-streaked face and eyes, filled with pain and suffering, made Peter's anger deepen, yet he showed no emotion. Instead, he answered her calmly.
"Yes. It's over."
After a moment, he steadied himself internally, his gaze drifting toward the half-devoured corpses of the bandits nearby. Their lifeless bodies, torn apart by scavengers, served as a grim reminder of their fate—one they had brought upon themselves.
He closed his eyes and focused his mind on the attribute that was supposedly capable of sending the dead to the afterlife. His thoughts became empty, entirely dedicated to the task at hand. After a moment, he felt a strange sensation deep within his soul. Instinctively, he commanded it to materialize in his hand. When he opened his eyes, nothing seemed different—his hand looked as it always had—but he could sense an invisible energy enveloping it. The feeling was strange. It was his first time using this power, yet it felt as familiar as if it had always been a part of him.
Raising his hand, he placed it gently on the woman's shoulder. Under his touch, her body began to dematerialize, turning into ashes that scattered like burning paper dissolving in the wind.
He looked at her face one last time—it was smiling, filled with gratitude. Then, in a soft voice, she said,
"Thank you."
Peter responded, his voice carrying a trace of sorrow."May your soul rest in peace."
And in the next moment, she was gone. Nothing remained but a few fading specks, dissolving into the night air. It was a strange thing—just moments ago, she had been here, a person with a past, a story, perhaps even a family. And now, she no longer existed. Her story would be forgotten, lost with her death. The very fact of her existence would fade with time.
Oblivion… The one thing Peter feared. To be forgotten after death—it was a strange fear, yet one of the few he had ever known.
Peter rose to his feet, dusted off his pants, and surveyed the mist-covered clearing, bathed in the light of distant, foreign stars. He walked over to his sword, still embedded in the ground, and pulled it free, commanding it to dissolve into his soul. The process resembled the woman's dematerialization just moments before, but Peter paid no attention to it.
There were still a few hours left until dawn, but at least two hours of walking separated him from the camp.
Without wasting any more time, he turned and disappeared into the thick and silent fog.