Cursed Immortality

Chapter 1246: Riding for a Fall! (5)

After staying silent for a while, eventually, the Myth of Oracle’s voice returned, “Although the situation is bizarre, this won’t change our objective, and maybe the Undead Army is planning something, so be on your guard and establish a stronghold immediately!”

The Myth of Inferno also thought it made sense and nodded, “Understood. The vanguard will secure a foothold.”

The Myth of Oracle continued, “I will also dispatch the Myth of Black Archer to figure out what the Undead Skyfall Canyons are up to.”

The two Quasi-Myths exchanged peculiar glances when they heard the Myth of Black Archer was coming, because if even the Black Archer was being sent, then the situation had already exceeded normal reconnaissance.

The Myth of Oracle’s voice became colder. “Meanwhile, do not advance recklessly, secure territories, wait for reinforcements, and continue to report every anomaly.”

The connection began to fade, but before it disappeared completely, she added one final order, “I will immediately inform the Myth of Reverend.”

The communication ended, and silence returned to the command bridge. Outside the observation deck, the endless wastelands of the Sagittarius Continent stretched beneath the fleet.

It was empty, still, and silent as if something had swallowed an entire continent.

The Myth of Inferno slowly gazed toward the distant heart of Sagittarius, and for reasons he could not explain, an uncomfortable feeling surfaced within him.

It felt as though they had not arrived before a battlefield but before the aftermath of something far worse.

He wasn’t wrong either, for somewhere deep within the continent’s unseen interior, someone was waiting for this exact opportunity!

—

After an unknown amount of time had passed, far from the advancing vanguard of the Mythical Coalition, a figure emerged silently from the largest fleet drifting above the ruined continent.

No one saw him leave or sensed his departure, not even the surrounding Myths; it was as if he had never existed there in the first place.

This was the Myth of Black Archer. His figure resembled a phantom born from darkness itself. A pitch-black, skin-tight robe covered his entire body, perfectly blending into the shadows between reality and space.

A long hood concealed his face completely, while beneath it only two pale violet lights flickered quietly like ghostly stars trapped within an endless void.

The moment he appeared, the surrounding space subtly distorted, difficult to describe: at times, it felt as though he had become one with it; at others, it seemed he could dissolve into it at any moment.

This was precisely why the Myth of Oracle had entrusted him with the mission to investigate the disappearance of the Undead Race and the strange silence consuming the continent.

Among all the Myths of the coalition, only he possessed the bloodline and talents necessary to move unnoticed through unknown territory, and more importantly, he preferred working alone.

At that moment, a faint ripple spread beneath his feet, and then he vanished. The next moment, he appeared thousands of miles away, on the other side of the continent.

Unlike the vanguard army, he had deliberately avoided the primary routes, yet the scenery before him wasn’t any different.

An endless mountain range stretched across the horizon, with towering black peaks piercing the heavens, and a dense death aura covered everything like an eternal fog.

The landscape should’ve been crawling with undead, and their settlements should’ve existed here with patrols moving through the mountains.

Yet there was absolute nothingness as the entire region looked abandoned, desolate, and dead. Even for a continent ruled by the Undead Race, the silence felt wrong.

The pale violet lights beneath his hood flickered thoughtfully.

‘It’s just as Lady Oracle had told me; there are absolutely no traces of the Undead Army. Strange, indeed.’

At that moment, just as he prepared to begin his investigation, his movements suddenly froze for a peculiar sensation passed through his unique racial trait. His head slowly turned toward a distant direction.

The violet lights within his hood intensified, and space unfolded as if layers of reality peeled away before his eyes, and he used his bloodline and laws to see through it.

The hidden folds of space that concealed countless secrets became visible within his eyes, and then, he saw it.

Far beyond countless mountain ranges, beyond valleys of death aura, and beyond ordinary perception, a sleek black vessel drifted through the sky. It resembled a flying spear crafted from darkness itself, elegant and silent.

The Myth of Black Archer’s expression changed.

‘A soul artifact?’

The violet lights intensified further, and his eyes pierced through layer after layer of concealment. Soon, its rank became clear.

‘Advanced Legendary King Rank?’ His pupils contracted because this space shuttle alone was shocking in an abandoned continent seemingly emptied of life.

Such an artifact was nothing short of an anomaly among anomalies, and his first thought was simple.

‘It could be one of the survivors! Perhaps some Tier-3 Legendary King among them had escaped whatever calamity had befallen the continent. Which means whoever is operating it, perhaps they knew what happened and who is responsible. Either way, I need answers!’

Without hesitation, he decided to make his move as the Myth of Black Archer slowly raised one hand.

The next instant, darkness gathered, space twisted, and a pitch-black arrow manifested silently between his fingers.

But it contained no killing intent, as it wasn’t meant to kill but only to cripple and disable the vessel. Enough to force its occupants into revealing themselves.

The next moment, the arrow vanished without any sound, flash, or warning, as if space itself became the bowstring, the path, and the projectile.

The arrow traveled through folded dimensions, ignoring distance, obstacles, and reality itself.

Within a second, it appeared directly before the black vessel, and just as it was about to strike, the vessel disappeared!

The Myth of Black Archer’s eyes widened because the reaction was too fast, and in the vessel’s space, something had replaced it.

It was a tall figure that stood where the vessel had been, as though he had always been there, and the vessel itself had merely been an illusion.

The figure wore a black windbreaker that fluttered quietly despite the absence of wind. A hood concealed most of his features, yet beneath it, an eerie skeletal face emerged from the darkness, with two pale golden-white flames burning within empty eye sockets.

The flames illuminated the skull with an unnatural glow, giving it an ancient and terrifying ambiance. It was none other than Jacob!