Chapter 136#
Mist · Part One#
A red moon hung in the night sky.
The sharp, agonized screaming gradually ceased. The ancient castle was strewn with corpses — maids, grooms, butlers, nobles, and several figures who clearly did not belong to this world. All of them were dead.
Fire spread from the wine cellar, consuming the entire castle. Every structure in this instance was collapsing.
The only living soul was a pale-faced man. He dropped his blood-soaked dagger and knelt before the body of his companion, reaching in to feel around the dead man’s chest.
His fingers touched something cold. He drew a sharp, excited breath and pulled out an old gray key. In the moonlight, faint wisps of mist curled around it.
The man clutched the key tightly in his palm, overcome with joy. “I got it… I got it!”
He glanced at his companion, then at all the people he had killed. His smile faded, replaced by a twitching, unhinged grimace. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I have to find the legendary City of Mist. I’ve had enough of living in the Eternal Night — don’t come looking for me… Hahahahaha, I got it!”
He had heard tell of it in other instances: that obtaining a key of this appearance would grant passage to a mysterious realm, where one could have anything desired, and all indulged freely in pleasure without restraint.
His expression manic, he held the key up toward the red moon. “Take me away! Hurry — take me away! Take me there!”
Nothing happened.
Had he been deceived?
The man’s face shifted between emotions. He shoved the key deep into the inner pocket closest to his skin and made for the collapsing section of the castle to exit the instance. Blood dripped steadily from his body — some his own, most belonging to others.
The blood seeped slowly through his clothing, eventually staining the inner pocket red and smearing across the surface of the key.
A flash of mist — and the bloodstains on the key vanished.
The man’s step faltered mid-stride toward the instance exit. The next second, he disappeared into thin air.
The Paradise.
Yu Feichen lay on the rooftop of the treevine villa, turning an old silver key over and over in his hand.
No matter how he looked at it, there was nothing remarkable about it.
That day, something had come over him and he’d asked Anfey for a reward. Anfey only smiled and said nothing. A moment later, the god leaned toward him.
A cool, crisp breath brushed his face. Anfey murmured softly at his ear, “Depends on how you perform.”
An elegant tone, with a trace of a smile at the end. At the same time, Anfey placed this object into Yu Feichen’s hand.
There was movement behind him. Windsor and Bai Song had also climbed up.
“See, Brother Yu,” Windsor said with a cheerful smile. “What do you think of the place I picked?”
Duke Windsor refused to live anywhere beneath his standards. Yu Feichen had left the two of them some Gleamstone before departing, and Windsor had promptly checked out of the guest room and secured the scenic penthouse villa at the very top of the great tree — overlooking the entire Gleamstone Plaza, with the pure white and sacred Tower of Genesis directly across, and the most breathtaking sunset view in all of the Paradise.
“Though,” Windsor murmured, “the situation has changed somewhat.”
What had previously faced the Tower of Genesis now stared directly into the desolate, murky Gate of Eternal Night, its left half inscribed with “ENTER” and its right half with “NO EXIT.”
Yu Feichen had already composed the compliment “the view isn’t bad” when he received Bai Song’s rambling texts, but now all he could offer was: “The wind’s nice.”
The wind was strong. And very cold. Ideal for contemplating life.
Such as — what exactly this key was.
Bai Song: “Looks really old. Forget it, I have no idea.”
Windsor: “Seems like some sort of mystical magical artifact. Never mind, I’ll just go back to counting money.”
Yu Feichen had given them far too much. After Bai Song walked him through how the Paradise operated, Duke Windsor had decisively chosen to — start lending money at interest.
His balance was now thirty percent higher than what Yu Feichen had given him.
The moonless, windy night. Faint gray mist curled around the key. One could just barely detect a hint of madness and chaos within it.
Instinct told Yu Feichen this was nothing good.
And yet it had been given to him by Anfey.
A certain deity had handed over the key, said they needed to rest for a little while — just a little while. But a god’s “little while” might differ somewhat from everyone else’s. Anfey had yet to wake, leaving no one to ask for answers.
Windsor had Insight as a specialty. Since he said it seemed like a magical artifact…
A flash of sharpness. Yu Feichen cut his own finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto the key’s surface.
Blood was a catalyst for many magical objects. Sure enough, within a few seconds, the key absorbed it.
But nothing happened.
“What are you playing at? Where is He?” A hooded, cloaked black figure suddenly appeared, speaking in a theatrically mysterious tone — unmistakably Klaros.
“Tch.” Klaros looked down at the scene below from the cold wind: “You’ve really got yourself a… lovely spot here.”
Moonless and windy. The Gleamstone Plaza was desolate and quiet. The festive balloons from the former celebration drifted in the wind.
Sunset Street was deserted. Twilight Street was shutting down.
At the Gate of Eternal Night, a pigeon screeched: “Wishing you a safe return!”
— All of it laid out in full view.
Those who knew the inside story understood it was because the Gate of Eternal Night had been forcibly opened to everyone; people were crowding the trading area on the other side to scramble for items and collect their Gleamstone compensation for the era change. Those who didn’t know might have thought the Paradise had gone bankrupt.
Windsor: “…”
Fine.
Everyone has a bad investment sometimes.
Yu Feichen relaxed his finger to reveal the silver key and said to Klaros, “Do you recognize it?”
He had by now unilaterally decided this was a gift from Anfey — he simply didn’t know yet what it was.
In the process of studying the key, Yu Feichen had come to understand Anfey’s feelings before opening that box.
If Klaros recognized this as something extremely precious, he might even hint to Klaros who had given it to him.
Klaros: “That? Of course I recognize it.”
Yu Feichen braced himself for the next sentence.
“I have one too!”
With that, an almost identical key appeared in Klaros’s palm.
Yu Feichen: “…?”
“Here, a gift.” Klaros held it out to Windsor. “Next time you borrow money, knock one point off the interest for me.” Done giving it away, another one appeared in his hand. This one went to Bai Song: “One for one, two points off.”
After that, there was still one more.
The Gatekeeper looked at the third key, his tone perfectly casual: “I have plenty. Do you need more?”
Windsor said quietly: “Brother Yu doesn’t look so good.”
Bai Song: “I noticed too. Brother Yu? Brother Yu?”
Bai Song reached out and waved a hand in front of Yu Feichen’s eyes.
Yu Feichen took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to let the key drop, and said in a level voice: “What is it?”
“An old antique — it’s quite a story. It’s a token from the City of Mist.”
The term “City of Mist” rang a faint bell. Yu Feichen had heard it from Sather. At the time, Sather had complained about being unable to get any indulgences and wanting to go to the City of Mist to have a good time.
Klaros: “While wandering through the Eternal Night, people sometimes catch sight of a city shrouded in mist. It appears like a mirage — no one can predict where it will show up, and no one knows its true location.”
He paused, then smiled, lowering his voice: “It’s a city full of temptation. People have indulged themselves to death inside it. Those who have been there receive a key like this one, with a message engraved upon it — The City of Mist welcomes you back.”
“Unfortunately, it gives you the key but doesn’t explain how to use it. Some have tried it on every door they could find. Some have chanted spells over it. Some have let their blood fall on it. They all earned looks from others like they were mentally ill.”
Yu Feichen, who had just bled on the key, kept his expression perfectly blank.
Klaros tossed his third key up and caught it. “See, this is the memento from when Murphey and I first met in the City of Mist. That was many eras ago.”
— It was remarkable that he could tell these near-identical keys apart.
Yu Feichen’s urge to drop the key grew even stronger.
But Klaros was still lost in reminiscence, a strange smile surfacing on his face: “Back then I wanted to seize its power. Murphey came to gather intelligence. We thought the collaboration would go smoothly — we nearly got killed by that cursed place instead. Then Murphey turned on me, threw me off, and left. Later, when I became the Gatekeeper of the Paradise, the look on Murphey’s face was priceless. I really wish you could have seen it.”
“Though — I haven’t heard of anyone entering the City of Mist in a very long time. Could something have happened there as well?”
Klaros turned to look at Yu Feichen.
A powerful pulling force suddenly surged from within the key.
Yu Feichen immediately felt the same suffocating, warping sensation as when one was about to be drawn into the Gate of Eternal Night.
This key was genuinely haunted.
By now, Yu Feichen understood.
Not a reward. Not a gift. This was a key to the next destination. And the god had no intention of paying wages.
The space around him twisted, no longer able to carry sound. Meeting Klaros’s stunned gaze, Yu Feichen mouthed a single sentence.
“Tell Him…”
“You’d better come too.”
A passing pigeon cried out at exactly the right moment: “Wishing you a safe return!”
“We’re done for,” Klaros stared blankly at the spot where Yu Feichen had vanished, murmuring: “He’s going to kill me.”
The Gatekeeper stared dazedly at his own key. “Was his last message asking me to go keep him company? My best option right now might genuinely be to leave the Paradise.”
“Calm down!” Windsor grabbed him. “You still have to guard the gate, you still have to—”
“There’s one very important thing I never got to tell him.” Klaros said in despair.
Windsor: “…What is it?”
— Those who visit the City of Mist will, without exception, have a powerful hatred of the Eternal Day instilled into their very soul.
It was because of this that Murphey had managed to leave the City of Mist successfully, only to nearly die in the Eternal Night afterward from mental disorder — and had been found by him. Of course, he’d never let Murphey know it was he who had found them.
Klaros let out a long sigh. “The moment to test his faith has arrived — but does he even have something like that? Murphey would suffer, while he’ll just end up checking in outside the gate every era like all those others. And honestly, could I even win in a fight against him at that point. I’m sorry — I have to go. I need to deliver the bad news to the Dusk Temple.”
The Gatekeeper came and went like a ghost.
On the empty rooftop, amid the bleak surroundings, only Bai Song and Windsor remained.
A gust of wind swept past.
Bai Song picked up his key.
Windsor picked up his key.
Bai Song drew a short sword.
Windsor drew a silver knife.
Their eyes met.
“Are we doing it or not?”