Chapter 25: City of Decay

For humans with their limited lifespans, "eight hundred years" is an overly abstract length of time. Most people have only encountered such a staggering timespan in history classes or in fantasy novels that defy the laws of biology. However, without experiencing it firsthand, it is hard to truly grasp how cruelly the passage of eight hundred years can leave an indelible mark on the material world.

As the five members of the Igor Family approached the ruins of Black Water Town on horseback—becoming the first visitors this dead town had received in eight centuries—a single word surfaced in all their minds:

Decay.

A decay steeped in such profound sorrow that it almost brought them to tears.

This kind of decay was perhaps the most painful stage a town could endure. It was neither the bustling, prosperous prime of a famous city teeming with people and carriages, nor the tranquil serenity of returning to nature after tens of thousands of years of erosion. Instead, it was trapped in an agonizing limbo between the two. It resembled an old man on his deathbed—the breath of life had not yet completely dissipated from his body, but the shadow of death had already quietly descended. This sight delivered a tremendous psychological shock to any onlooker: a shock at the ruthlessness of time, the fragility of civilization, and the sheer terror suspended between life and death.

Halting their horses outside Black Water Town, Xiahou Yan and the others could still discern the general outline of what was once a famous town in the Southern Empire eight hundred years ago. They could make out the individual houses, buildings, and storefronts. But at the same time, what stimulated their eyes even more intensely were the accumulated scars left behind by eight centuries of history.

Situated on a plain with no rivers nearby, Black Water Town hadn’t been entirely buried deep within sedimentary layers like the ancient cities Xiahou Yan had seen in his previous life on Earth. Perhaps because the monsoons in the Southern Empire weren’t particularly strong, or perhaps because the surrounding vegetation remained intact, the flow of eight hundred years had ultimately only deposited a shallow layer of dust over the town.

This thirty-to-forty-centimeter layer of sedimentary soil certainly buried the corners of most houses and made it impossible to push their doors open, but the majority of their structures remained exposed to the light of day.

Thus, as Xiahou Yan rode his Imperial Horse closer, he could clearly observe the stone materials used to construct these civilian dwellings. After eight hundred years, the surfaces of the rectangular stone blocks had inevitably become pitted and uneven, their color fading to a gloomy grayish-black. However, the seams between the stones remained distinct. The mottled moss on the surface of the stone bricks even lent these somewhat dilapidated old houses a hint of life, making them feel a little less oppressive.

Xiahou Yan could almost envision how the early settlers from eight centuries ago had built these houses brick by brick, how they had stood with their wives and daughters in front of their new homes dreaming of the future, and how they had raised their families within these stone walls. But now, they were all dead. They had died eight hundred years ago, leaving only these hollow, empty houses still standing here.

"It looks like these houses were built using stones from the Nova Stone quarry," the archer Chris Mann, who had been silent all along, suddenly said. "Up until fifty or sixty years ago, the Nova Stone quarry was still the largest source of rare stones in the Southern Empire. The ’Nova Stone’ produced there features unique star-like patterns on its cross-sections."

Xiahou Yan’s eyes widened. He stared intently at the walls of these old houses for a long time and indeed found speckled textures resembling a starry sky on the stone bricks. Unable to hold back his surprise, he looked at the young man, Chris.

"How do you know about this?"

Chris scratched his head sheepishly. "To answer you, Lord, my father ran a stone quarry in the Western Territory. I grew up following him around, so I learned a bit about identifying stones."

"So..." The Lord tapped the wall with a crowbar, producing a crisp echo. "These residential houses in Black Water Town were all built using the rare specialty stones from the Nova Stone quarry? Isn’t that incredibly extravagant?"

"No..." Chris shook his head. "Lord, the reason the ’Nova Stone’ from the quarry is considered a rare material today is because it has been over-mined for centuries, leaving its reserves nearly depleted. But if we go back eight hundred years... the Nova Stone used to build these houses was viewed by the people of that era as nothing more than the most common and cheapest building material."

"So, if we pry these ancient stones loose and sell them on the market, would they be worth a lot of money?" the Lord asked, staring thoughtfully at the crowbar in his hand.

"Very much so!" Chris nodded honestly. "Nowadays, whole blocks of ’Nova Stone’ are a rare sight on the market! A complete Nova Stone brick like this one would fetch at least five Gold Coins if sold!"

A glint of incurable greed rapidly infected the Lord’s eyes.

Master Laurie, standing off to the side, cleared his throat forcefully. "With all due respect, Lord Eliot, we came here to find the Magic Laboratory, didn’t we?"

Only then did Xiahou Yan snap out of his reverie, asking blankly, "Oh... right... where is the Magic Laboratory?"

"How should I know!" Master Laurie blew into his beard in frustration. What made the Lord think he would know the home address of a Legendary Mage from eight hundred years ago?

Xiahou Yan frowned tightly and surveyed their surroundings.

Without realizing it, the group of five had already ventured deep into the ruins of Black Water Town. They were now standing at a rather narrow crossroads. No matter which direction they looked—east, west, south, or north—they could see rows upon rows of overlapping ruined houses, along with mindless zombies wandering sporadically through the various streets and alleys.

"Then..." Lawrence said with a troubled expression. "...Are we going to have to search house by house?"

With so many old houses in Black Water Town, if they had to search door-to-door like they were conducting a census, how long would that take? Xiahou Yan’s face paled slightly as he turned around and exchanged a glance with Alice. The female swordsman shrugged helplessly; she clearly didn’t have any bright ideas either.

"Wait!" Just as everyone was at a loss, Master Laurie suddenly dismounted and strode quickly toward a stone stele at the corner of the street.

Xiahou Yan and the others hastily dismounted and followed him.

What Master Laurie had discovered was a Doric memorial stele, slightly taller than a person. Its rugged yet majestic design was brimming with the artistic style of the early Empire. Xiahou Yan remembered that the Imperial Capital and Academy City also housed similar steles—antiques from centuries ago that had long since been roped off and protected.

Master Laurie cast a Flowing Water Spell, using the clear water constantly gushing from his palm to wash away the moss and humus covering the stone’s surface, thereby revealing the incomplete, intaglio engravings on the monument:

"...Hereby honoring the townsfolk who fought bravely and tragically sacrificed their lives during the eradication of roaming Demon Race bands... Erected respectfully in the Imperial Calendar year 179 by Count Henry Igor, Lord of Raven Castle, Ruler of Black Water Town, and Warden of the Count Igor domain..."

Xiahou Yan clicked his tongue. So this was an ancient monument of merit, personally erected right here by his own ancestor.

"So what?" He shot Master Laurie a sidelong glance. "What’s the significance of this?"

Master Laurie reached out and pointed to the very bottom of the merit stele. Xiahou Yan crouched down and was surprised to find a line of inconspicuous small text precisely where the master was pointing.

The handwriting was extremely sloppy. It seemed that long after the stele had been erected, some bored vandal had carved these words into the stone with an engraving knife.

"What does it say?" Alice asked curiously.

Xiahou Yan carefully deciphered the carvings on the stele, and his expression instantly became quite spectacular. After a long pause, he read it aloud, enunciating every word:

"...High-end Necromancy instruction. Hands-on teaching, success guaranteed. From the burial ground to basic mastery, it only costs fifty Silver Coins. Interested parties, please inquire with Mr. Simon Adrian at 56 Lusijie Street..."

Xiahou Yan straightened his back, exchanging a silent look with his subordinates. They remained utterly speechless for a long time.