"This place is not the Void; otherwise, our bodies wouldn't have survived at all."
Alhazred stepped forward, still explaining.
"We are still in the original world, but not in reality. Rather, we're in a rift between the world and the Void."
It really ca down to the professionals. Alhazred had unraveled the mystery of this strange environnt with a single sentence, though whether one could understand it depended on personal comprehension.
"Then how do we get back?" Boudica trudged up, dragging her Axe Spear. Even though her state had been refreshed, she still looked sowhat weary.
Alhazred had discovered that this space was not the true Void when he had cast "Burning Starfall" to drag a teorite from the Void. Similarly, it was not as sturdy as he had imagined.
"Such rifts are very fragile, like a brilliant bubble created by the collision between reality and the Void. Without the power to maintain it, it will burst. We were dragged here by the evil cult's ritual. Now, if we destroy the core that sustains this space, we can pop the bubble and return to reality."
As he spoke, Alhazred's gaze fell on the dying Limping Walker. The Heretic Saintess who perford the ritual was long dead. It went without saying what served as the core sustaining this space.
The Limping Walker's actions had been interrupted precisely because of the backlash from the teorite tearing through this space.
Hearing Alhazred, however, Lance's mind turned to sothing else. This interpretation of space made him curious about those spatial rituals, like the "Collector's Showroom" and other spatial equipnt, or the Romani's cherished "Spatial Carriage"—were they all based on a similar concept? Capturing a spatial rift at the world's edge and then solidifying it with rituals... Highly likely. He was unclear about the Romani's situation, but the Collectors could also travel through the Void, appearing out of nowhere, each possessing their own pocket space. If he couldn't get the technology from the Romani, perhaps he could try a different research direction...
Although Lance urgently needed these technologies, he knew now was not the ti to dwell on them. He imdiately snapped back to the present and focused his attention on the half-dead Limping Walker.
But then, he unexpectedly took out a rope from the "Collector's Showroom" and handed it to them. "Just to be safe," he urged, "everyone should tie themselves up with this."
Lance wasn't sure if a simple rope could resist the pull of the Void, but it offered so psychological comfort at least. After all, no one knew if they might be flung out.
The others had no objections. They quickly tied the ropes around their waists, with one end of each rope secured to Lance.
Lance then approached the Limping Walker, sword raised high, and without a mont's hesitation, brought it down on its head.
The blade cleaved into the skull. As the powder-purple eyes dimd, so did the Limping Walker's life force.
Just as Alhazred had speculated, with the death of the Limping Walker that sustained the space, the stars in the sky began to dim, as if the stars were rapidly receding, separated by the boundless Void.
The surrounding purple star-rivers pulled apart, like curtains being drawn at the end of a show. They gradually faded, and then patches of black spots began to appear, like moth-eaten fabric. These spots spread rapidly until the newly reerging darkness devoured the entire Void.
And so, they, along with everything in that space, returned to the gloomy Beast Lair.
The stench in the air, paradoxically, gave them an inexplicable sense of security, for they knew they were back.
"Ah!...?" Amanda was sowhat slow to react. She had braced herself for the space tearing apart, not expecting to return so abruptly.
It wasn't just her. The other mbers, including Lance, were also a bit slow to process the sudden shift.
There was no vertigo or disorientation like when they first fell into the Void. Instead, the transition was so smooth it felt almost unreal.
It wasn't until a torch flared to life that the familiar surroundings were illuminated. It was the sa place where they had battled the Heretics, and even their positions hadn't changed much. In front of them lay the huge carcass of the Limping Walker.
In the firelight, the bodies of the Heretics, including the Saintess, also appeared. All were shriveled as if drained of life, reduced to mummified remains.
It seed they too had been sacrificial offerings for the Saintess's summoning of the Limping Walker.
It was unclear if it was the appearance of the fire or the figure holding the torch that offered them comfort, letting them know they had truly returned. This was not an illusion. They had returned, truly returned!
Had it not been for the nurous corpses, everything that had happened might have been dismissed as a feverish nightmare.
Having returned to a relatively safe place, the tension that had been tightly wound within everyone began to ease. All the emotions and pressures they had forcibly suppressed now surged to the surface.
This was not physical exhaustion, but ntal. It would take ti to heal the wounds in their souls.
"Let's take a break, everyone," Lance said. "I'll handle the rest."
Pulling out several small stools from the "Collector's Showroom" for them, Lance also had his own bag of tricks, naturally.
Amanda was used to the Lord's astonishing gadgets, and besides, she had no energy left to ponder further. She took a stool and sat down, well away from the corpses. The tumult in her chest gradually subsided as ti passed.
Lance, on the other hand, was doing okay. He was tired, but he had grown accustod to it. More importantly, the battle was over, which ant it was ti for loot.
No one could refuse the pleasure that ca with scavenging from corpses, especially from Void Demons like the Limping Walker—there were bound to be good things.
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