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墨書 Inktalez
In the wilderness where dawn had yet to arrive, the last fragment of Bronze dissolved into dust in the wind.
The entity once known as the "Puppet Master" quietly vanished, without a grand battle or a brilliant explosion.
It was as if a higher-dimensional eraser gently wiped it from history, leaving even the traces of its devastation fading rapidly.
The collapsed mountains seemed to possess a self-repairing ability; the fractured rocks gradually closed up, and the mountain regained its stability.
The dead vegetation appeared to be bestowed with new life, tender green shoots emerging from withered branches and leaves, showcasing vibrant vitality.
Even the memories of the cultivators regarding this catastrophe were gradually becoming hazy, as if everything had merely been an illusory dream.
Xuan Yang stood before the ruins of the Ruined Temple, gazing at the blue bricks beneath his feet.
He noticed that the spider patterns originally carved into the blue bricks were slowly changing; those intricate and mysterious lines were becoming blurred, ultimately transforming into ordinary cracks.
"Did we win?" Qu Si Yang's voice rang out behind him.
Xuan Yang turned around to see Qu Si Yang looking at his right arm.
That once Bronze-encased right arm had now returned to its soft state, as if it had never been corroded by Bronze at all. The only difference was a star-like scar on his palm, as if something had burned it.
In the distance, a melodious flute sound floated through the air.
It was the sound of Mu Tong's flute, clear and melodious, as if it were narrating the tranquility and harmony of this land.
Smoke from the village rose gently, bringing a touch of human warmth to the wilderness.
This was a victory known to no one.
Three days later, the records in the Puppet Sect's texts regarding the Shadow Rebellion were altered; what was once a thrilling tale transformed into an ordinary account of sect infighting.
The shattered golden statue of the Master was remade, its incense offerings flourishing as before, as if nothing had ever happened.
One day, an old cultivator, drunk from wine, began to mumble about a dream involving the Bronze Spider.
The dream sounded absurd, prompting laughter from those around him.
Yet amidst the laughter, only one person silently watched the old cultivator—Xuan Yang.
Xuan Yang noticed that whenever the shadow of a newborn fell at a certain angle, it would briefly disappear.
This discovery sparked his curiosity, but others seemed oblivious to it.
As days passed, Xuan Yang observed that at noon each day, the shadows cast by the remnants of the Ruined Temple would form strange runes.
These runes appeared to conceal some secret, waiting for him to uncover.
Meanwhile, Qu Si Yang's Xing Mang Scar would emit a slight warmth on rainy days.
This phenomenon also caught Xuan Yang's attention, prompting him to ponder whether there was some connection between these seemingly unrelated occurrences.
Finally, on a moonless night, Xuan Yang and Qu Si Yang decided to return to the Temple Ruins.
Standing before the ruins, Qu Si Yang stepped on the ground and suddenly said, "Are we going to investigate this thoroughly? I feel like there’s something beneath us."
Xuan Yang gazed at their feet, surprised to discover that two shadows were slowly merging, gradually forming the shape of a Bronze Key pointing westward.
The wind swept across the wilderness, carrying with it the faint sound of boats from the depths of the starry sky, as if guiding them toward their next destination.
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