Three days after bidding farewell to the System, a ruined manor appeared before Raymond.
Tall, broken, and collapsed stone pillars were covered in greenish-gray moss; on the shattered floor tiles, faint, incomplete dragon patterns could still be discerned.
The ruins before him were not much different from the patterns depicted in the ancient book Raymond had found, suggesting that the book's author had also been here.
As he stepped onto this land, a heavy sense of oppression washed over him, making every breath exceptionally difficult.
He tensed his entire body, cautiously maneuvering, avoiding all the cracks on the ground.
Just as Raymond walked deeper into the manor, a striking mural in the ruins appeared before his eyes.
"This... this is High Valyrian script!"
Sunlight, piercing through the withered vines, fell precisely on the crumbling mural, illuminating the ancient script, which was difficult to decipher due to erosion from wind and rain.
He painstakingly deciphered it, word by word.
"D...A...E...M...A...R...Y... Dae... Daem... Targaryen?"
Raymond's voice trembled, then transformed into disbelieving joy: "Daemary!!! One of the families at the very top of the power pyramid among the forty Dragonlord families! This is... their territory?"
Immense euphoria drowned out his caution; Raymond instinctively took a step forward, about to rush into the deep archway!
"Rumble—!"
The ground began to shake violently without warning, as if the entire earth was roaring in anger!
Debris rattled down, raising a sky full of choking dust.
Raymond stumbled, falling clumsily onto a stone pillar to barely steady himself.
As the dust settled, deep within the impenetrable darkness behind the archway, two faint green lights flickered and vanished!
That was definitely not the glow of fireflies!
A bone-chilling cold swept over him; cold sweat snaked its way down his spine.
Raymond bit his tongue hard, using the sharp pain to force back the fear that threatened to shatter his sanity, and slowly drew the steel knife from his waist.
The cold hilt of the knife offered him a faint sense of reliance.
The book had not mentioned such a situation!
Could it be... a curse that had taken physical form?
Or was it... undead ghosts or something similar?
"Clang-clang... clang-clang..."
The sound of heavy metal chains dragging, accompanied by the thud of footsteps, approached from the darkness!
With every step, the earth trembled.
Suddenly, a dark shadow lunged, and Raymond quickly crossed his arms, trying to shield his head.
But the opponent did not harm Raymond, merely passing through him.
"What's going on?" Raymond was somewhat puzzled.
The unwilling shadows roared, calling more companions, and they all lunged at Raymond, but... still did not harm him in the slightest.
Raymond looked down at his hands; a faint golden light was protecting him.
With a thought, he used his [Perception] ability.
[Light of Merit (Yin Virtue): Generations of practicing medicine, healing the world, benefiting future generations (from ancestral blessings)]
[Gate of Time and Space (Inactive): An ability from an ancient evil god, purified by the power of the Heavenly Dao, with an attached static space]
["The One" That Escaped: You are the variable; all Heavenly Daos hope you bring a different outcome]
"Indeed! My cheat is useful; the Blue Star Mother Goddess wouldn't deceive me, and... even in another world, the Yin virtue accumulated by my ancestors can still help me, truly a variable... This backdoor is well-opened!"
Raymond relaxed; now he didn't have to worry about curses.
He looked at the roaring shadows again...
[Cursed Undead: Slaves filled with resentment towards the Freehold Empire, transformed by their souls and flesh, harmless to those without Targaryen bloodline]
"Hahaha, harmless to those without Targaryen bloodline? It seems the Freehold's destruction back then was not unjust; from top to bottom... there were few innocent people."
Raymond chuckled, his laughter carrying a hint of mockery.
As if in response to his soft chuckle, from the deepest part of the ruins, a heavy, resentful, unwilling wail suddenly erupted, like the mournful cry of a dying beast, stirring layers of echoes in the desolate silence.
The mockery on Raymond's face instantly vanished, his eyes sharp as a drawn blade.
He no longer looked down, his right hand gripping the hilt of his short knife.
"You—" He faced the endless darkness of the ruins, towards the direction of the lingering cursed whispers, slowly holding the short knife horizontally before him, his voice not loud, but carrying a resolute declaration, "You seek revenge by killing Dragonlords, but me... you cannot kill, nor are you worthy to kill."
"Likewise... I currently lack the ability to completely eliminate you, so..."
The young man's tone grew low and solemn, even containing a hint of imperceptible pity, "I will help you completely sever the chains of the curse... to truly free you..."
He paused, his voice imperceptibly softening, "After all..."
"...You, too, were once just a group of... pitiful people, struggling in endless despair, yearning... for freedom."
He took a deep breath.
Then, he closed his eyes and, in a strange, ancient, low tone imbued with a certain rhythm, he chanted, word by word: "How did the azure sky begin, weeping in the azure abyss; the Great Primordial Land carries, the Primordial One's chapter for saving people..."
"Where do the myriad paths of humanity lead? The immortal path is vast and shrouded in mist. Ghosts rejoice, coveting the merits of the living... Immortals value eternal life, ghosts seek a good end..."
"The immortal path is broad and free, the ghostly realm is sinister and brings disaster. Where is the beauty of the clear heavenly sound? A sorrowful song shakes the vast sea. I only wish to achieve the Dao and ride a crane away; who bothers with the suffering of the mortal world..."
"Below Mount Beiman, in the Quan Miao mansion, demons and monsters gather like tigers. They specialize in devouring mortals' lifespans and numbers, cutting off the path of life and death..."
"Recite this profound chapter to purify the mortal soul, to awe the myriad evils of Fengdu. Slaying demons and binding spirits, the blade is like snow; all ghouls and six devils fall..."
"The heavens are vast and boundless, my Dao flourishes daily!"
As the last note fell, the echoes lingered in the deathly silence of the ruins.
And those shadows had already vanished without a trace...
"I hope this world... truly has reincarnation..."
Raymond opened his eyes, his deep violet gaze looking up at the intangible void shrouded in mist in the sky, his voice solemn and slightly wistful, "At least... whether dead or... spirits... they will eventually... have a place to go..."
He lightly patted his forehead in self-mockery: "Heh... thanks to those years of slacking off in my previous life... I did read a lot of miscellaneous books... and fortunately, I still remember a lot of the content, thanks to my photographic memory..."
"I wonder... are the Three Pure Ones truly effective... can they hear me? There should... always be some kind of resonance, right?"
He seemed to be convincing himself, his gaze directed towards the subtle gaze that might exist in the void, "Otherwise... how did I... end up here? I hope the 'Script of Salvation' mentioned in this book... can truly... bring them some redemption... don't let me chant it in vain..."
"Mortal life is so fragile; the chance for transcendence... I absolutely cannot give up!"
After speaking, he cast one last glance at this cursed land, which had buried countless souls, then, without a trace of hesitation, he turned around decisively and strode forward, his back carrying an unwavering resolve as he walked steadily into the vaster yet more perilous unknown world deep within the ruins.
Ahead might be a deadly greyscale plague zone, or countless vengeful spirits might drift, or perhaps monsters a hundred times more terrifying than he could imagine at that moment... But so what?
Next, he would seek the path to eternal life; the gods of this world... were also good material for study!
From this moment on, he completely let go of the past, no longer the greenhouse flower he once was, who, though orphaned young, was still protected by his grandparents, uncles, and aunts.
Zhao Lin was gone; he had long been Raymond Targaryen, he just couldn't let go of the past!
He would accept all the karma of this life!
Just after Raymond left, above the eerie ruins that had swallowed countless souls, the lingering black mist seemed to gradually dissipate, while simultaneously countless tiny specks of light, like fireflies, rose.
They floated upward lightly, like countless lost little stars returning to the night sky, shimmering with a faint, soft glow against the backdrop of the deep blue firmament.
The specks of light rose higher and higher, becoming fainter and fainter, until... they silently vanished into the vast and boundless depths of the cosmos, as if they had never appeared.