Once out of the city, he could see the castle standing far off on the horizon.
But as the saying goes, a mountain always looks closer than it is. When the undead had mentioned the "castle to the east of the city," he had spoken so casually, as if it were just a stone's throw away.
Yet when Erich actually left the city and looked up from the sandy plains, the castle, though towering into the clouds, seemed reasonably close. But after walking for half the day, it still stood stubbornly on the horizon.
Seeing the City of the Undead shrink behind him while the castle ahead refused to grow any larger, Erich began to seriously consider heading back to fetch a tent. But looking back at the distance he had already covered, it felt like a waste. Turning back now would mean all those steps had been for nothing.
Forget it. Might as well keep going.
Erich slowed his pace, adjusting his stride to minimize his energy consumption. When he got tired, he found a protruding rock to sit on and rest. When he got thirsty, he took a sip of water. When he got hungry, he chewed on his dry rations.
He kept walking and walking, and after what felt like a whole day, Erich finally stood at the foot of the castle.
Looking from afar, it had merely seemed tall, but standing close, he felt a true sense of oppression.
The castle occupied an immense area. Rather than a castle, it was more like a small city. In the distance stood a high tower built against the mountain, seamlessly merging with the rock face. Its spire disappeared into the shadows above, making it impossible to see where it ended, almost reaching the second floor.
The castle gates were tightly shut, clearly showing no welcome to outsiders.
But Erich had no intention of using the main entrance anyway.
A gate three times the height of a man was indeed a natural barrier for ordinary visitors, but to him, such a height was hardly an obstacle.
Erich crept along the base of the wall for a stretch until he found a blind spot in the defenses. With no one around and no sound to be heard, wind elements swirled around his body, lifting him directly into the air. He glided silently over the top of the wall and landed steadily in an alleyway on the inside.
He had intended to make a graceful landing, but just as he squatted to stabilize his center of gravity, his eyes locked onto another pair.
It was a very small figure, wrapped in a black cloak that was clearly too big for them, huddled in a corner. It was unclear whether they were hiding from something or had simply been sitting there all along.
The air instantly froze.
Erich's nerves tautened in an instant. His staff rose in a reflex action, its tip pointing directly at the small figure as mana began to flow. With just a single thought, this witness would be silenced forever.
If no one saw him, the infiltration was a success.
And if everyone who saw him died, that counted as no one seeing him.
Erich waited for the figure to scream, run, or make any move that would force his hand.
But the figure did not act as he expected. Instead, a tiny, trembling arm reached out from beneath the black robe.
“I'll give you my food,” a tender female voice said, trembling with sheer terror. “Please don't kill me.”
Then she fell silent, curling herself into a ball as she awaited her cruel fate.
Now it was Erich's turn to be bewildered. What was going on here?
The outstretched arm was pale, but it was unmistakably human.
He had prepared all sorts of contingency plans, but he had never anticipated this. While this dungeon did have other entrances and allowed outsiders to enter, would a child this small really come here?
Erich squatted down and reached out to grasp the arm.
It was warm to the touch and elastic. It was indeed the arm of a living human.
Erich was truly shocked this time. Almost instinctively, he reached out to pull back her hood.
But the girl reacted violently. Clutching the edges of her hood with both hands, she shrank back, her voice thick with even deeper terror:
“Please, don't look.”
She held on so tightly that her nails almost dug into the fabric. But her strength was limited, and against Erich, it was no different from wet paper. With a slight tug, the hood was pulled away, revealing the head beneath.
It was not the head of a living person. Half of her face was bare bone, with a few strands of withered yellow hair clinging to the smooth skull. The other half consisted of nearly rotten flesh, dark liquid seeping from the gaps where the skin peeled back. Her features were so deformed they could barely be identified.
Her entire face was torn between two extremes. Only from the shape of her bones and the remnants of her facial structure could one tell she was once a little girl.
Shivering violently with her head lowered, she didn't know where to put her hands. In the end, she hugged her head, as if she could still hide her face that way.
Erich's worldview was deeply shaken. For a long while, he found himself speechless. After a long silence, he gently pulled the hood back over her head.
Feeling her face covered once more, she finally began to sob softly, the faint sound drifting through the quiet alley.
Erich felt a pang of guilt in his conscience, a sensation even more uncomfortable than being stared at by the Treants.
He looked at the tiny, huddled figure, unsure of what to say. Perhaps because he was so used to patting Nora's head, he instinctively reached out and gently placed his hand on top of her hood.
“Don't cry. Um... if you don't mind, could you tell me what happened?”
While patting a stranger's head was highly impolite, she actually stopped crying. She sniffled, and the eyes hidden beneath the hood peeked up at Erich before quickly darting back down. She whispered:
“It's not safe here. Let's go to my house first, big brother.”
Since she had called him "big brother," what else could he say?
Erich followed her as she wound through the small city, striking while the iron was hot to ask for her name.
Lian. It was a reasonably nice name.
Lian was unbelievably familiar with the pathways inside the castle. She knew exactly where each alley led and which intersections to avoid.
She led Erich through several narrow corridors, bypassed two patrols of guards, and finally stopped in front of a low wooden door.
“We're here,” she said.
Pushing the door open, they entered a modest room. It was sparsely furnished, with the most prominent feature being eight beds lined up against the wall. They were topped with thin mattresses, the blankets folded neatly. It was clear that many people lived here.
In the center of the room stood a rough wooden table, upon which sat a dim bone candle. Lian sat down at the table and gestured for Erich to make himself comfortable.
Once Erich was seated across from her, Lian began to tell him about the castle ruled by the executioner.
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