Tenebrous Wolf
Chapter 116: Sea of Silver Ash

Chapter 116: Sea of Silver Ash

A few distance away, the labyrinth seemed to lose its color. The obsidian blades of coral stood dull and misshapen, as though struck by some unknown blight that had drained them of all life. Their stone-like forms appeared brittle and fragile, ready to collapse into dust at the slightest touch.

The patch of dead coral stretched endlessly, a desolate expanse where the black walls had crumbled into a sea of silver sand. After weeks of navigating the vibrant, blood-red corridors, the sight of this lifeless wasteland sent an involuntary shiver down Klaus’s spine.

What unsettled him even more was the silence. Not a single monster stirred in the murky depths beneath their feet.

To the west, one landmark broke the monotony — a towering rise in the land, the largest they had seen so far, looming like the humped back of a colossal, ancient beast. Shrouded in the ashen remains of dead coral, the hill resembled a mountain of grey dust. And at its peak, piercing the sallow sky, stood a massive spire.

Contrasted against the grey sky, the giant spire looked incredibly vibrant, ancient and magnificent.

Despite its beauty, Klaus could feel an undeniable sense of danger radiating from the giant spire, even from this distance. It wasn’t paranoia — he was certain of it. The feeling coiled in his gut like a living thing, prickling the back of his neck.

’What is that... a tree?’

The thought flickered across his mind, unbidden.

Squinting against the haze, Klaus tried to make sense of the silhouette. At first glance, the spire’s twisted surface could have been mistaken for the gnarled trunk of some ancient, withered tree. But as he studied it further, he realized it was no living thing whatsoever. There were no branches or leaves. It was just an endless, spiraling ridges, like the twisted horns of some monstrous beast, all fused together into a single towering mass.

The spire was crimson, but not the rich, vibrant crimson of life. No, this red was deep, rusted, almost sickly like dried blood left to rot under a dying sun.

Looking at his side, Seraphim had fallen into her usual silence, seemingly deep in thought. She stared into the distance with a massive frown on her face.

Could she had sensed something from there? He wondered.

Klaus thought to ask, but at that moment, something stirred in the grey sky above.

A dark shape emerged from the murky air and glided toward the crimson spire.

Against the grey, sallow light, the silhouette took shape; its enormous wings stretched wide, gliding through the grey sky with a terrifying, effortless grace. Clutched in its talons was a carcass, swinging limply as it was carried toward the tower. Even from this distance, dark streamers, perhaps blood, perhaps something worse, trailed behind it helplessly.

Narrowing his eyes, Klaus felt a jolt of recognition spark somewhere deep in his mind.

’Is that a... Carrion Slayer?’

He seemed slightly surprised. They had believed the territory of the flying, blind birds lay much farther away — but clearly, their initial assumptions were wrong. It was closer than they had ever anticipated. The creatures were residing within the crimson spire.

In a way, it was a stroke of fortune.

At least now they had a destination, rather than wandering blind through the wasteland.

And that was assuming they even reached it.

The wasteland might look dead, but Klaus knew better than to trust his eyes. Fortune or not, did they really have to go there?

Forgetting for a moment that the Carrion Eaters were dreamless creatures of the Awakened rank, capable of shredding the chitin of nightmare carapaces as easily as slicing through tofu, there was still the possibility of encountering even more dangerous monstrosities.

That was assuming they even made it to the spire.

What about the creatures lurking along the way?

It would be foolish to believe they could cross this desolate wasteland without being attacked.

The more Klaus thought about it, the more the idea gnawed at him.

Traversing a dead, open landscape with no cover, no place to hide, and no walls to defend from, it all felt like walking willingly into the jaws of death.

He stood silent for a moment, breathing through the metallic taste of fear in his mouth.

Then he finally turned to Sera.

"What do you think? This is the only way west, but I’m getting some serious bad vibes from that place. I’m open to searching for alternate paths if you think it’s worth it."

She just continued staring at the spire with an unreadable expression.

Despite offering the choice, Klaus already knew the truth. Searching for another route was meaningless. Over the past two weeks, during their desperate search for the Carrion Slayers’ hideouts, they had tried countless times to find alternate paths. Every attempt ended the same way: broken trails, dead ends, or landscapes so corrupted even he hadn’t dared to set foot into them.

There was no way around it.

There was no retreat.

Only forward, into the jaws of death.

Klaus swallowed, his throat feeling dry as a bone.

For a moment, he half-joked to himself that he might just fart out of sheer terror, spraying blood in the process.

But he wasn’t that weak.

On the other hand, Seraphim continued staring at the giant spire with mixed feelings.

Beside him, Seraphim finally turned, her gaze briefly catching his. For a fleeting moment, he saw something behind her eyes —a deep sense of inevitability and resignation

Then, with a quiet sigh, she shrugged her shoulders. She said quietly:

"If you already know the answer, then why bother asking?"

† †

Some time later, after explaining the situation to Adrian and Morgan, they abandoned Soul Grave and moved west, planning to investigate the situation inside the wasteland that stretched between them and the Silver Ash.

At first, they had not intended to approach the strange island. However, things quickly turned unusual once they set foot in the wasteland.

With silver sand beneath their feet and dead coral walls rising around them, the group remained on high alert, fully prepared to face unknown dangers. Although they had not seen any monsters moving through this area while observing from the leviathan’s spine, none of them truly believed that danger was absent from this strange region of the labyrinth.

There were too many ways for the Dreamless Creatures to conceal themselves, and if there was one thing they had learned during their time in the Sunless Void, it was that everything here was either deadly or hiding something even worse. Their first encounter with the carnivorous worms had been a particularly brutal lesson.

However, this time, their instincts proved wrong.

The wasteland remained quiet and empty, completely devoid of any signs of life.

In theory, the absence of monsters should have been a relief, but instead, Klaus felt more anxious than ever.

This whole situation reeked of danger. It was unnatural, deeply wrong.

If even the monsters avoided this place, then why were they walking deeper and deeper into the heart of it by their own choice?

Were they fools not to turn back while they still had the chance?

He wanted to turn back. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back.

But he knew it was impossible. Where would they go even if they hypothetically turn back?

Would they have to go through another process of bloody skirmishes and dead ends just for the sake of a better alternative that might even exist?

Soon, they reached the place where the labyrinth walls had crumbled into dust, leaving nothing but the endless plain of silver sand.

Before them stretched an unbroken void, vast and barren, save for the distant hill crowned by the looming spire.

There was no cover now.

Nothing to hide behind.

Nothing to shield them from sight.

Nothing to shield them from death.

If something was watching, and Klaus was almost certain something was, they would be helpless to escape its gaze.

He grimaced.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

Silently walking besides him, with Windbreaker already summoned, Adrian gave him a dry look. Behind him, Morgan remained silent, riding on the back of the Crimson Slayer. The evolved nightmare carapace carried itself with a mixture of confidence and arrogance, like a noble mount surveying its domain. Unlike him, however, the so-called monster mount had the strength to justify its pride. Its glowing eyes seemed to mock his weakness with silent disdain.

For some reason, the creature seemed to have it out for him. Klaus didn’t know if this was his imagination or not, but he caught the Crimson Slayer glaring at him as if he killed its mother.

For some reason, the creature seemed to hold a grudge against him. Klaus wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but he could swear he caught the Crimson Slayer glaring at him now and then, as if he had personally slaughtered its entire family.

Granted, he had killed more than his fair share of its kin over the past month of grueling travel, but it wasn’t as if the creatures had been innocent themselves.

Maybe Morgan’s... no, Briar’s influence had something to do with it. There was also the unsettling possibility that she had used a portion of his Soul Essence to help the creature evolve, though he had yet to confirm it.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, Seraphim strode forward at the front of the group, the Silver Blade resting easily in her hand. Clad in the Duskborne Armor, the black-armored, silver-haired maiden moved with a quiet, unshakable purpose. Just the sight of her was enough to steady Klaus’s chaotic heart. Despite the potential looming danger ahead, she wore her burden like a second armour.

Was this the will of the last vestige of the fallen Luminous Clan? She was more spirited than he imagined.

Whatever the case may be, no one contradicted his words or offered any form of comfort.

There was only the sound of their boots crunching against the silver dust, and the endless silence.

Swallowing his fear, Klaus pressed onward with the group, step by weary step, into the dead heart of the labyrinth. He was clad in the Purgatory’s Shroud, with Bloodwulf protecting his arms.

Ironically, Nightmares were considered a twisted form of dreams, at least according to the Oxidox teachings. Ascendants had long since weaponized them, forging tools that could either protect or destroy, but — according to the old sayings — they could never kill.