Chapter 518 - 480: Path of the ’Deep Well

Chapter 518: Chapter 480: Path of the ’Deep Well

Roland gave the Guard a signal.

The Guard understood immediately. He called over his partner, and together they carefully moved the two bodies from the pile on the cart. They placed them on a relatively clean patch of ground by the roadside, then hastily covered them with a dirty cloth they found somewhere.

After doing this, the Guard didn’t dare to delay any longer. He bowed obsequiously to Roland, took his leave, and urged his partner on. Pushing the cart with the remaining corpses, they quickly disappeared into the shadows of the Lower City District’s labyrinthine alleyways.

A somber quiet temporarily returned to the street. All that remained was Morne, kneeling beside his parents’ bodies and crying softly, and Roland’s group standing silently to one side.

When Morne’s suppressed sobs gradually turned into intermittent whimpers, Avril gently approached Roland and asked in a low voice.

"This is the boy..."

Roland nodded lightly, then crouched down beside the boy, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible.

"Don’t be so sad, child."

Hearing his voice, Morne looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed as he messily wiped his face with a dirty sleeve.

The look he gave Roland was filled with the gratitude of a drowning man who had just been saved.

"Th-thank you... honorable lord..."

His voice was hoarse.

"I... I have to lay my father and mother to rest first... then, then I’ll definitely repay you! I’ll do anything..."

"There’s no need for that."

Roland shook his head, stood up, and made a simple gesture to his companions.

"Let’s help him first."

No one objected.

In a place like the Lower City District, finding a suitable burial spot was not easy.

Duraga, with his knowledge of soil and stone, chose a spot in a secluded corner nearby that was relatively dry and far from the sewage drains.

Galvis and Bronson found a few relatively flat stone slabs and some scrap wood, while Avril, in the way of the Elves, softly chanted a few ancient verses to soothe the departed.

Roland and Morne, using the simplest tools they could find, dug carefully together.

The entire process was silent and swift.

There were no coffins, only a wrapping of clean, old cloth, a few handfuls of earth, and a simple marker made of several stacked stones.

This was perhaps the most common final resting place for the countless unfortunate souls in the Lower City District, but for Morne, it was the last thing he could do for his parents.

When the last handful of dirt was laid, Morne knelt before the small pile of stones and wept silently for a long time.

Roland walked up to him and dusted off his hands. His gaze was calm yet probing as he asked softly.

"Child, when you saw me just now, you said, ’It’s you?’... Have you met me before?"

Hearing this, Morne subconsciously shook his head first, then hesitated before giving a slight nod.

This contradictory reaction caused a flicker of doubt to cross Roland’s eyes.

Noticing Roland’s expression, Morne took a deep breath and tried to organize his thoughts. His voice was still hoarse from crying but had become much clearer.

"I... I don’t know you, lord, but..."

He furrowed his brow, as if trying to grasp a fleeting image in his mind.

"I think... I’ve seen you in my dreams, more than once."

He paused, his eyes looking somewhat dazed.

"It’s blurry in the dreams, like looking through a layer of fog, or... or like looking at something through shimmering water."

"Sometimes you’re standing next to a great fire, and sometimes... it’s like you’re talking to me... But when I wake up, I can’t remember what exactly happened. I only remember... that you seemed to have helped me, or... wanted to help me?"

"I’m not sure... The feeling is very strange. It’s not like a real dream, more like... more like a memory I can’t quite recall."

He looked up at Roland, his eyes confused yet earnest.

"So when I saw you just now, you felt... very familiar. It was like... something inside me finally settled. I know this sounds strange..."

Roland listened quietly, a theory forming in his mind. ’Morne’s special Constitution... even though he doesn’t retain complete cyclical memories, it must leave an "imprint" on his subconscious. That’s what’s creating this sense of déjà vu, these "blurry dreams."’

"No, that’s not strange at all, child."

Roland’s tone was steady and reassuring.

"Perhaps we were destined to meet here. And now, I might need your help, just like... you vaguely sensed in your dreams."

He looked directly into the boy’s eyes.

"Do you know—or rather... does your uncle know—of a way that leads deep underground in Rust Alley? For example... an unknown ’passage’?"

Roland’s question made Morne’s brow furrow, his small face showing the strain of trying to remember.

After a moment, he spoke slowly and with some hesitation:

"Are you talking about... the ’Deep Well’?"

"The Deep Well?"

Roland’s brow furrowed slightly. He didn’t actually know the specific name of the underground research facility.

So, he described what he had seen to Morne in the simplest terms possible. When he finally mentioned the massive, twisted, towering structure whose surface pulsed with an eerie light and strange patterns, Morne’s eyes visibly lit up, and he nodded vigorously.

"Yes! That’s the place!"

The boy’s voice carried a hint of excitement at the confirmation, mixed with an inexpressible fear.

"In my dreams... Uncle Kirk took me there. We saw that... that ’big thing’ from a distance. He called that place the ’Deep Well’ and said it was Silver Radiance City’s deepest secret, and also the most... the most dangerous place."

Roland was inwardly delighted; he hadn’t expected the lead to be so direct.

He immediately pressed on.

"Do you know how to get there?"

"Well..."

Morne slowly nodded. He then turned to face the simple grave mound, knelt, and solemnly bowed his head to the ground a few times.

After getting up, he looked at Roland, his voice a little lower and tinged with uncertainty.

"I... I remember the way. I’ve walked it many times in my dreams. Uncle Kirk always held my hand, but, lord..."

He pressed his lips together.

"It was just a dream. I... I’m not sure if I can actually find it, and I’m not sure if the path in my dream really exists... What if... what if I remember it wrong and lead you the wrong way..."

"It’s all right, Morne."

Roland’s tone was steady.

"Just take us to the starting point from your ’dream.’ We’ll confirm it from there."

Morne looked at Roland’s firm and trusting gaze, took a deep breath, and nodded forcefully.

"Okay! Please follow me."

He no longer hesitated. He turned and headed deeper into Rust Alley, toward an even more crowded and dilapidated area, one nearly submerged by illegal structures and mountains of discarded parts.

The air here was even fouler, the light dimmer, and there seemed to be fewer residents.

After many twists and turns, Morne stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary low wall made of scrap metal plates and rammed earth.

At the base of the low wall was a pile of broken clay pots and rotten planks.

"This is it..."

Morne said softly, appearing a little nervous.

He crouched down and tentatively pushed aside a few heavy planks, revealing a pitch-black opening behind them.

The opening wasn’t large, about a meter in diameter, with jagged edges that clearly showed it hadn’t been properly excavated.

It descended at a steep angle, and a faint, chilly, damp breeze drifted up from the depths, mixed with the distinct smell of some kind of rodent’s nest.

Seeing that the scene before him was identical to the one in his dream, Morne’s brow tightened. His expression was exceptionally complicated, but in the end, he pointed to the opening and said,

"In my dream, Uncle Kirk led me through this hole, and then we went down for a long, long time..."