The Wandering Fairy Chapter 262: Frozen Coffin

A sudden chill ran down his spine. The words that echoed everywhere and from nowhere held a sinister edge to them that lingered like blades across his skin.

“My heart…

“Soone… Give …

“Heart… Please… please...”

Soren remained frozen like a statue, unable to move his body at all. It was as if strings had wrapped around his limbs, turning him into a mindless puppet.

What the hell is happening?... His thoughts were slowing far more rapidly than before. He couldn’t help but count every second just to maintain his consciousness.

Realizing sothing was wrong, Biblion got to work activating his Soul Weapon skills on his behalf, allowing Soren to constantly regain his mories for a brief mont before they would vanish again.

I need to… I need to leave…

The gap in ti between each thought was rapidly growing. He could no longer tell how long it even took him to even co up with that notion. Soren glanced at Yarian’s Murmur, which was still recovering from the layers of frost.

The worldsong…

Listen… I must liste—

“HEART! GIVE MY HEART!...”

The torrent of wind turned violent as the voice erupted from the depths of the ancient chasm. The blast sent Soren flying several ters back from the edge, frozen vapor slowly crystalizing across his skin.

He clutched his ribs tightly, anticipating the pain, and yet… he felt nothing? The realization ca quickly—his senses had been consud as well…

Not good… he coughed while eyeing the now distant, abyssal fissure. But before he could wait for his next string of thoughts to arrive, he noticed his Murmur wobbling its way toward him, half covered in ice. The dim light it emitted felt brighter than the sun in the midst of this darkness.

Fignt… Did he order it?...

Just as he had assud, the creature which was still active had been sharing the worldsong through their intrinsic connection this entire ti. Of course, that also ant that the strange hypnotic dance associated with the song never affected him whenever the Murmur was active…

Biblion was going to change that.

In an instant, a rush of voices breached his ears, rapidly descending into the depths of his mind. An ancient lody unlike any other… In an instant, he felt himself once again reinvigorated with emotions and thoughts.

A smirk tugged at his lips slightly. If you’re going to try and consu my mind, I might as well fill it with nonsense!

The worldsong which had once had its allure drawn to the summoned Murmur was once again enchanting him!

Soren felt his body move on its own, despite the pain coming from his ribs. One swift motion after the other ford in his mind, which was quickly reenacted in reality. He slid across the cavern’s frigid surface like a valiant street perforr.

Seeing this, Fignt quickly followed it up with another round of mory injection using [Record], allowing him to recall his previously lost thoughts.

He stared silently at distant chasm—his gaze trailing toward the nearby Murmur. At that mont, he knew he had to make a decision.

“We’re climbing the fissure to its summit. No doubt, I won’t be able to maintain my thoughts for long since the worldsong will be guiding instead. I’m leaving the rest to you, Fignt.”

His Soul Weapon flashed brightly for a mont, as if to tell him, “Leave it all to !” Seeing this, Soren couldn’t help but chuckle.

To think I’d ever be forced to trust you like this… Damned fate…

As the words echoed one final ti in his mind, Soren was once again flooded with inaction, feeling his senses, emotions, and thoughts leaving him behind. Except, rather than forgetfulness, he was instead embraced by an external force, steering him forward like a puppet.

The Worldsong: Fantasia of Fantasias. His idea was pretty simple—since the surrounding darkness was threatening to erase him, he opted for a replacent. From his earlier observations, Soren had realized that the worldsongs operated on a much more intangible understanding, allowing it to exist even under the threat of erasure.

Of course, this inevitably tied back to the Naless Mist. He wasn’t sure monts ago, but now he was certain that whatever entity existed in these ancient caverns held a similar authority. Since that was the case, the best counter against it would be sothing also related to a Forgotten Rune—his very own Fairy Court.

The Cantor’s Crown and Fairy Witness runes were both influenced by his Forgotten Rune fragnt, creating clear mutations. Soren wasn’t fully certain of the specifics, but after observing how the worldsong persisted even while trapped in this darkness, he beca sure of its ability to ‘resist’ this ongoing threat.

Since he was destined to have his mind consud, he decided to let the friendlier option prevail instead!

With the initial command already issued and with Fignt steering the Murmur, the path ahead was already set in stone. Whether he escapes this dilemma or not will all depend on this singular gamble.

Soren felt himself subrged in lights, colors, emotions and images. The worldsong was fully taking over, replacing his previously erased sensations. It felt as if he was back in college again, partaking in strange recreational drugs and alcohol, letting the music carry his body like grass swaying in the wind. And yet, a purpose still existed—a goal could be rembered. His final thoughts of reaching the chasm persisted, anchoring him partially in reality.

Of course, his body was simply moving on its own through pure instinct, driven by the maddening lody of the worldsong and steered accurately with Fignt’s control. One step after another drove him forward, leading him closer and closer to the source of the darkness ensnared winds.

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Pausing before the edge, the miniature spirit standing before him froze and expanded its own Soul Realm, encompassing them both in its anima. Then, with Fignt’s commands, it cast the proper axioms and arcane geotries, weaving it all together through its own spellfocus. Soon, two brilliantly illusive swords ford in the air—one larger than the other.

The Murmur, which was still covered in a sheet of lting ice, slowly wobbled its way to the sword nearest to it. Soren, who was still being driven by the worldsong and his own instincts, did the sa. The pair quickly rose a few inches from the ground, letting themselves levitate freely with the swords holding their weight.

Of course, it wasn’t exactly a perfect scenario. Because both of their minds were inebriated from the worldsong’s enchantnt, keeping themselves stable and balanced was utterly out of the picture. They were akin to two drunkards attempting to perform tricks on a hoverboard. Such a scene would no doubt get them in a lot of trouble with the authorities if he was still back on Earth…

What… What am I thinking right now? Utter nonsense… His mind seed to roam on its own. He wasn’t fully sure why the worldsong would ever remind him of such things. As for whether this idea was suicidal or not will all depend on Fignt’s control. Since the Fairy Blades were created through the Murmur’s own Soul Realm, which technically still counts as part of The Records, his cloned apparition could fully command them. With him at the helm, neither Soren nor the Murmur had to worry about reaching their destination—it was now his responsibility.

After a few more monts of stumbling with the transparent swords, Fignt finally steered them both toward the edge. They were finally crossing into the cave’s true danger.

If he had to be honest, Soren wasn’t at all sure they would survive. While testing the wind’s horrific freezing powers just monts prior, he had planned on trying a few other ideas first before fully committing to crossing the fissure. But with the introduction of that strange voice, all his plans were thrown out the window.

He could now only hope to sohow survive this through a miracle… Or perhaps, sohow grasp the opportunity Tazzith spoke about. But then again, that was the essence of gambling, after all. As horrifying as this was, there was no denying the thrill of it all.

Just as he had expected, as soon as Fignt steered them into the wind current’s path, a colossal bubble ford around the both of them. Fignt had used his connection to the Murmur to cast Fairy Barrier, making sure to divert the breeze away from them. Of course, it wasn’t a completely perfect setup. Layers of ice were still slowly piling up across their skin, threatening to turn them into frozen sculptures.

Not wasting anymore ti, Fignt angled the swords upwards, commanding them to fly as fast as they could. The gushing tide of hail and ice slamd them with enough power to break bones and sever flesh. Cracks quickly began to appear across the Fairy Barriers, forcing Fignt to repair them again and again.

As they rose higher and higher, he realized how difficult it had beco to keep dancing atop the blades. Layers of ice crept up their legs, threatening to lock their movents entirely. Even his hands—clamped around the vertical swords—had begun to rge with its illusive form, refusing to co free. And yet, he wasn’t entirely unhappy with this developnt.

With their limbs frozen in place, the worldsong could no longer force them to dance. Fignt was finally able to guide the swords without needing to constantly restrain them.

Of course, with no idea how far the chasm extended above, Soren fully expected them to beco ice sculptures long before they reached the summit. Whether they could be thawed after that wasn’t sothing he allowed himself to consider.

“MINE! IT'S MINE! GIVE THE HEART!”

Without warning, another explosion of snow-laden wind surged from below. Fignt’s protections completely shattered on impact. In the span of a few heartbeats, everything below his waist froze solid—-his body no different from a miniature iceberg.

It's happening… so quickly… The thought dawned on both him and Fignt Neither of them expected the storm to be this savage.

Without hesitation, the cloned apparition swiftly recast Fairy Barrier, layering it far thicker than before. As for the Murmur, it had already turned a miniature glacier, but its Soul Realm miraculously remained active.

The pair continued to climb, defying all odds—but it was becoming clear that death was drawing near. His heart had slowed, each beat heavier than the last, as his blood itself seed to freeze within his veins. Even with every protection Fignt had raised, nothing impeded the storm… It was alive—a beast full of anger, malice, and resentnt.

Hypothermia was no longer a threat; it was now an inevitability.

In those sluggish monts, ti itself appeared to drag. The worldsong still reached him—its allure faint but persistent, even as his consciousness slowly began slipping away. The only sensation left was the crackle of ice crawling up his shoulders and neck, seeking to seal him within its frozen grasp.

Is… Is returning to the Faerie Court our only option…?

Even as the thought ford, he knew it was hopeless. Whether they could recover completely in that enigmatic space didn’t matter—the outco once they returned back to this cursed chasm would remain the sa. Eventually, their anima would run dry, leaving them with no choice but to freeze to death and fall back into the abyss.

Tazzith… You bastard…

Where is it…

Where is this salvation you speak of?...

He didn’t know whether these were rely the desperate thoughts of a dying man, or a last illusion ant to stir emotions already long faded. Regardless, Fignt did not halt its ascent. Even as his vision darkened, the swords clung stubbornly to their chosen path.

In that mont, he couldn’t help but wonder—was it all truly worth it? Were the answers awaiting him at the mountain's summit truly that significant? Ever since he took his first steps beyond the walls of Celestine Citadel, these doubts have clouded his mind endlessly. Even now, as he climbed higher and higher toward the unknown, Soren still didn’t know…

But there was one thing he was certain of. This journey had been long and arduous. Painful and joyful. Boring and captivating… No single word could ever describe it.

Whether it was worth it or not didn’t matter. In these final monts—wrapped in the cold’s embrace—Soren simply found himself yearning for a conclusion. This journey… It needed a better ending than this…

“It was indeed worth it.”

The words detonated within his mind like fireworks, followed by the sharp crack of splintering ice. His frozen coffin shattered, fragnts scattering into the void as the path ahead laid bare once more.

Soren stared into the distance, shock and awe filling his expression. Beyond the abyssal darkness, a vibrant sea of stars and radiant lights erged—a beacon guiding those lost between despair and hope.

Squinting against the endless glimr, he could just make out a strange silhouette far above, slowly taking shape. As they surged upward, details began to erge—a tall, pointed cone hat, frad by a crown of shoulder-length hair. Strange wings spread from the figure’s back, flaring wide as their robes flickered in the rushing wind. In their hands burned a shimring fla, unreal and unsteady, marked by deep shadows and darkened mist.

Cassia! The thought quickly erged—his mind no longer encumbered by the darkness. It's actually her! Cassia is here? Why?!

But the hope that had flared in his chest quickly died—replaced by despair colder than any snow or hail. Behind Cassia stood another figure, enshrouded in deeper shadows than the void itself. She wore a long, elaborate black gown—face shrouded by a regal yet mist-ridden hood. A strange glowing white halo appeared over Her head, as if announcing Her holy presence.

“Shepherd of the Naless Fold…” Soren hissed, his skin paling as fear gripped even his Soul Weapon’s radiant pages. The darkness around them trembled in Her presence, as if compelled to bow.

Before he could gather his thoughts, Cassia, who stood near the Holy Maiden, glanced at him with her glossy, unfocused eyes. She spoke in a hollow, almost distant tone:

“The Whispering Dream greets you.”