Chapter 670: The Skull that Blinks

Thoren’s footsteps slowed as he looked ahead, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

Along both sides of the nave, rows of fresh human skulls had appeared, resting on the cold stone surfaces as though they had been carefully arranged by someone.

They extended deep into the darkness, forming two long lines that followed the length of the passage.

The skulls looked unnaturally clean, their pale surfaces untouched by dust or decay, and their empty eye sockets stared directly at him.

The sight made the atmosphere feel heavier, and even the steady sound of dripping water seemed to fade into the background.

Under the Soul Lantern’s illumination, every detail became painfully clear.

Staring at the strange human skulls, Thoren did not blink, his eyes fixed intently on them as confusion spread across his face.

He remained still for several moments.

’I thought I’d left these skulls behind.’

’How did they appear without me noticing? I had my perception released the entire time.’

’Could this be another illusion created by the Hall of Tallies? But if it is, why hasn’t the Soul Lantern exposed it yet?’

’No, something is wrong. These skulls look far too real, and I don’t like the feeling I’m getting from them.’

A cold sensation crept along his spine.

The skulls remained where they were, silent and motionless, their empty eye sockets staring at him from both sides.

After several seconds, he shook his head and took a deep breath.

He prepared to avert his gaze and inspect the passage ahead. Just as his eyes began to move away, something changed at the edge of his vision.

One of the skulls blinked at him.

"Hmm?!"

Thoren froze.

His neck stiffened, and his eyes snapped back toward the skull.

For a moment, he wondered whether exhaustion had finally begun affecting his senses, but he had seen it clearly.

The eyelids had lowered over the skull’s empty eye sockets before opening again, moving with the unmistakable motion of a living human being.

His heart lurched violently inside his chest and his shoulders tensed.

’What in the Abyss was that? A skull shouldn’t be able to blink!’

His breathing became shallow as he searched for some reasonable explanation, but none came to mind.

The skull had no flesh, no muscles, and no living body to support such a movement.

Yet he had witnessed it with his own eyes, and the memory of that brief motion refused to disappear.

’Could it be alive? No, that’s impossible. Then what exactly am I looking at?’

The thought brought no relief.

Instead, dread slowly replaced his astonishment, spreading through his chest as he realized that the danger might be far worse than he had anticipated.

If something could make a human skull move beneath the Soul Lantern’s light, then he could no longer trust what his senses were telling him.

Before he could realize what was happening, the world around him began to blur. The rows of skulls stretched farther into the distance, their pale surfaces shimmering beneath the Soul Lantern’s light.

He had fallen into a trance.

The moment Thoren was drawn into the trance, the surroundings before him changed completely.

He found himself watching a young boy who appeared to be between ten and twelve years old, struggling desperately as a group of sturdy young men in armor dragged him away.

Their armor was made of dark metal, and their faces remained cold and indifferent as they ignored the boy’s desperate attempts to escape.

"Let me go! Please, let me go!" the boy screamed, twisting his body and kicking his legs as he tried to break free from their grasp.

"I don’t want to go! Please, somebody help me!"

His cries echoed through the scene, filled with fear and helplessness.

The boy grabbed at the arms holding him, but the armored men were far stronger than he was.

Every time he struggled, they tightened their grip and continued dragging him forward, showing no sign of hesitation or mercy.

Thoren watched the scene unfold, his expression growing solemn as he listened to the boy’s desperate cries.

Just as Thoren wondered where the men were taking the boy, the scene shifted.

This time, he saw the boy’s family standing nearby, watching as the armored men carried him away.

There were his parents and siblings, all gathered together as though they had come to witness an ordinary event.

However, what caught Thoren’s attention was their expressions.

None of them looked sorrowful.

His mother showed no sign of distress, while his father stood with a calm expression that seemed completely out of place.

Even the boy’s siblings, who should have been frightened by the sight of their brother being taken away, appeared unconcerned.

Some of them even looked happy, their faces carrying faint smiles as they watched him struggle.

The boy continued screaming for help, desperately calling out to his parents, but none of them moved to stop the armored men.

"Father! Mother! Please, help me!"

His voice cracked as he reached toward them, his eyes filled with tears. Yet his parents remained where they stood.

Thoren felt an uncomfortable weight settle over his chest.

He could understand being powerless against a group of armed men, but the sight of a child’s own family watching him being taken away without the slightest trace of sorrow was difficult to accept.

Before Thoren could make sense of their behavior, the scene changed again.

The armored men had carried the boy outside the city.

Tall walls and buildings stood behind them, gradually disappearing from view as they moved farther into the surrounding wilderness.

The boy’s cries had grown hoarse, and tears streamed down his cheeks as he realized his situation.

The men paid no attention to him. They continued forward until they finally arrived before a deep well.

Thoren’s gaze shifted toward the enormous opening in the ground. Its circular stone walls descended into darkness, and even from where he stood, he could not see the bottom.

It looked like a bottomless pit waiting to swallow anything unfortunate enough to fall into it.

The moment the boy saw the well, his expression changed completely.

"No! No, please!" he screamed, his voice trembling with renewed terror.

"Don’t throw me in there! I’ll behave! I promise I’ll behave! Please, let me go!"

He struggled with everything he had, twisting his body violently and trying to pull his arms free.

"Please! Somebody help me!"

Thoren watched helplessly as the armored men lifted the boy and threw him into the well.

For an instant, the boy’s body hung above the darkness before he began falling.

His arms flailed wildly as he tried to grab something, anything, that might stop his descent.

His face was twisted with dreadful terror, his eyes wide and his mouth open as another scream escaped his throat.

He continued falling into the endless darkness, growing smaller with every passing moment until he could barely be seen.

Just as Thoren continued staring into the darkness, the scene suddenly shattered.

His eyes snapped open, and he drew in a sharp breath as he abruptly returned to his senses.

He was back inside the nave of the Hall of Tallies, standing beneath the pale illumination of the Soul Lantern.

His chest rose and fell as he struggled to steady his breathing, while the dreadful image of the boy falling into the well remained vivid in his mind.

For several moments, he did not move. He simply stood there, trying to understand what had happened and why he had been forced to witness such a sorrowful scene.

Then he noticed something else.

The rows of human skulls that had appeared along both sides of the nave were gone.