Chapter 87: The Evil Spirit Returned from Hell
The soil sample test report was stamped with multiple seals—some from the Military Intelligence Bureau, others from various authoritative appraisal institutions...
The marks left by these seals varied in age; some looked like they had been there for a hundred years, while others were clearly stamped in the past few decades.
It was evident that in the nearly two hundred years the soil sample had been sealed in the archives, as detection technology advanced, different appraisers had repeatedly examined the sample, but all had reached the same conclusion.
Rast gently closed the suitcase in front of him.
A secret file from nearly two centuries ago...
Together with the soil sample, and that black-and-white old photograph.
These three archive-level artifacts from the archive, when linked and interwoven with the information they contained, led to a simple and credible conclusion—
“Canaan” was a small town that once truly existed in the real world, not within the Granwell Kingdom, but in the northern border of the Kingdom of Fran.
However, around two hundred years ago, a disaster named the “Falles Explosion” erased Canaan from the map like a rubber eraser.
Only the hollow in the photograph, completely out of place with its surroundings, remained.
Or to put it more directly—
The “Canaan” he had personally seen and treated as a safe haven was nothing more than a speck of dust in history.
In the real world, this town had long since ceased to exist.
...
“In the military, the confidentiality levels of intelligence are divided into ten ranks, corresponding to the level of power involved in the intelligence.”
“A Level 7 confidentiality rating means that the information directly or indirectly involves a Legend-level being.”
“And Level 9 means the Descent of a true god, or a catastrophe of Twilight-level power equal to it, at the end of an epoch.”
“Only extraordinary events of this level could cause such large-scale ‘spatiotemporal annihilation’, wiping out dozens of kilometers of land from existence.”
“Of course—if it were a Legend specializing in time-space abilities, they might also cause spatiotemporal annihilation… but currently, none of the known Long Sequences can interfere with time-space.”
“Moreover, Nightblades of the time-space system are extremely rare, and both their cultivation and development are exceptionally difficult. According to the records in the Arcane Tower, the highest level achieved by a time-space Nightblade was only Tier 4, after which there was no progress.”
“Therefore, the chances of a time-space Legend appearing in the present world are even lower than the previous two possibilities.”
Beside him, Ingrid added a few comments.
She walked to Rast’s side and took the two suitcases from the young man’s hands.
Even with Ingrid’s level of authority, the borrowing of archival documents and artifacts from the archive came with strict time limits and had to be returned immediately after use.
But at the moment she received the suitcase with both hands, she suddenly noticed that Rast’s hands were slightly trembling.
This surprised her a little.
The request to access the Canaan files in the Arcane Tower had come from Shiltina in the name of the academy, so Ingrid was unaware of Rast’s background, nor did she know why this junior of hers was searching for an ancient place name from nearly two hundred years ago.
Could it be that Rast was just sent by the academy to run errands?
But since he had earned Dean Silver’s recognition, it meant that he had a very focused temperament, just like the current Round Table leader Akxia whom Ingrid had met before—someone who remained indifferent to everything outside their inner pursuit, never easily shaken.
From her previous interaction with Rast, this junior who shared a similar origin with her should also be that type of personality.
He had always maintained a fleeting, mysterious demeanor, so he should not have lost his composure like this.
And when Ingrid, puzzled, looked up at the boy’s face—she suddenly froze.
She saw a version of Rast she had never seen before.
It was a gaze hard to describe with words, the light in those pitch-black eyes was as vicious as a sickle, like a violent lone wolf...
Yet at the same time, his expression appeared fragile and lost, like a child shattered by the news that Santa Claus didn’t exist, and the Giant of Light was just a made-up story.
It also brought to mind cracked porcelain barely held together by cheap glue, ready to shatter at any moment.
Strangely enough, though this junior of hers was only Tier 2, Ingrid had already reached Tier 6...
But at that moment, looking into the chilling light in the boy’s eyes, she clearly felt her heart skip a beat.
It was as if some inexplicable calamity was about to descend within the Arcane Tower, consuming everything—including herself.
But in the end, that dazzling light gradually dimmed.
He turned back into the handsome and striking young man that had amazed Ingrid when they first met.
Rast’s previously trembling hands suddenly steadied: “Senior, I’d like to ask you a question.”
“From ancient times to now, has there ever been a definite conclusion about whether the Nightworld’s historical remnants truly exist?”
“Mm.”
Ingrid nodded: “That question has been debated by Night Travelers across the Western Continent for nearly a thousand years with no conclusion. It may go on for many more years.”
“The historical background of the Nightworld Remnants does indeed originate from actual history… But if it were merely an illusion or echo, it shouldn’t be able to manifest so vividly.”
“According to records in the Arcane Tower, even a true Legend who enters the Nightworld cannot distinguish it from reality. No matter how they observe it, it appears to be a real world.”
“Besides, if everything in the Nightworld were fake, then how would we explain the Twilight Catastrophes that descend upon the real world?”
She brushed aside a lock of black hair falling over her forehead: “So, some scholars have even proposed a hypothesis… saying that the real world we live in might itself be a massive, long-duration Nightworld Remnant, and we are merely projection-born natives who don’t realize it.”
“Of course, unless one day our Nightworld collapses, that hypothesis can neither be proven nor disproven, and thus has no real value.”
Ingrid smiled slightly: “But, if that guess about the Final Remnant is true—”
“Then perhaps, once all seventy-two Nightworlds are cleared, and we clear the final Final Remnant, we will finally learn all the secrets of the Nightworld.”
While answering, Ingrid also observed Rast’s expression from the corner of her eye.
His face had returned to its usual calm, and even those pitch-black eyes had stilled again, like a serene, dark pool, swallowing all light and leaving only the deepest darkness.
If it were an ordinary person, they might assume that Rast’s fleeting expression from earlier was just their imagination.
But as a Tier 6 extraordinary, one who had reached the peak of human control over the body through constant use of the Nightblade “Iron Shade”—
Ingrid knew well that it was no illusion.
In this seemingly indifferent junior of hers, something terrifying and abnormal was clearly hidden within.
As if—an evil spirit had returned from hell.