Chapter 671: The Memory that refuses to Go.

Thoren slowly lowered his gaze, his expression growing heavier as he replayed the events in his mind.

The skulls had appeared first, and the moment one of them blinked at him, he had been drawn into the trance.

Then he had witnessed the boy being taken away by the armored men, abandoned by his family, and thrown into a well so deep that its bottom could not be seen.

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind, causing his entire body to stiffen.

Then it dawned on him.

’The skulls...’

His eyes widened slightly as he stared at the empty surfaces beside him, a dreadful possibility beginning to take shape in his mind.

’Don’t tell me they are from living humans...’

Thoren sucked in a cold breath as the thought appeared in his mind.

For a moment, he could only stare ahead, unable to shake off the disturbing possibility.

If the skulls were connected to the people whose final moments he had witnessed, then the scene might not have been a random illusion.

It could have been a glimpse of something that had truly happened.

The more he thought about the scene, the more shocked he became.

Just then, he noticed something strange inside his mind.

Thoren’s expression changed as he became aware of an additional memory that had not been there before.

It surfaced without warning, as though something had quietly placed it inside his consciousness while he was trapped in the trance.

’This...’

He stood still, attempting to examine the unfamiliar memory, but the moment he focused on it, his confusion deepened.

’How could this be?’

The memory felt strangely vivid, carrying details that he could neither recognize nor explain. It wasn’t just any ordinary memory, but grief and pain.

Anguish and bitterness.

He felt like he had become the boy in the trance, feeling everything he felt in his last moment.

His breathing became slightly uneven as he tried to understand what was happening. He had entered the trance unwillingly, and now he was left with something he could not explain.

Thoren tried desperately to push the memory out of his brain, focusing his thoughts and attempting to force the unfamiliar images away.

He concentrated until his forehead tightened and his breathing grew heavier, but no matter how hard he tried, the memory refused to disappear.

The more he resisted it, the more firmly it seemed to cling to his consciousness.

It was as though the memory of the boy from the trance had become a parasite buried deep inside his mind, refusing to let go no matter how desperately he struggled against it.

The boy’s terrified expression continued appearing whenever Thoren tried to turn his attention elsewhere, and his desperate screams seemed to linger somewhere beyond his hearing.

Thoren finally stopped trying, his face darkening with a mixture of confusion and uneasiness.

He could not force the memory out, and he had no idea what would happen if he continued allowing it to remain inside his mind.

For the first time since entering the Hall of Tallies, he felt uncertain whether he should continue his exploration or not.

The thought of turning back appeared in Thoren’s mind for only a moment before he suppressed it.

He stood in the middle of the nave, surrounded by the oppressive silence of the Hall of Tallies, while the memory of the young boy continued to linger inside his consciousness.

He still did not understand why he had been forced to witness such a dreadful scene, nor could he explain the memory that had been left behind.

However, how could he turn back now?

He had already come this far, endured the strange hymn, witnessed the disappearance of the mourners, and discovered that the Soul Lantern possessed abilities he had never known about.

More importantly, the memory inside his mind had raised questions that he could not simply ignore.

If he turned around without understanding what had happened, he might never discover the truth behind everything.

Thoren shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to calm the uneasiness that had settled inside his chest.

Although he did not like the idea of having a boy’s memory inside his mind, this was not the time to dwell on it.

For now, he needed to continue moving forward.

He adjusted his mindset and continued along the narrow channel, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor.

The Soul Lantern floated above his head, casting its pale illumination across the passage and revealing the dark water flowing beneath his boots.

Despite the light, the atmosphere surrounding him felt increasingly heavy.

The silence was not complete, yet the faint sounds that remained seemed distant and unnatural.

The hymn that had followed him through the nave continued to linger somewhere in the darkness, its strange melody pressing against his senses like a sorrowful song.

Thoren kept his attention focused on the path ahead, carefully examining the walls and the ground as he advanced.

He continued walking until he gradually noticed a change in the passage.

The channel that had extended through the nave was beginning to narrow, its stone walls drawing closer together as the path ahead descended into darkness.

Thoren slowed his pace and examined the structure before him, realizing that the channel eventually converged on a flight of narrow stairs leading downward.

The stairs were old and uneven, their surfaces darkened by moisture.

Black water trickled between the cracks and disappeared into the depths below.

Thoren paused briefly at the top of the stairs, looking down into the darkness.

He could not determine how far they descended, and the Soul Lantern’s illumination seemed unable to reach the bottom.

He took another deep breath before carefully stepping onto the first stair.

As he continued downward, the air grew colder.

The change was gradual at first, but after several steps, the chill began seeping through his clothes and settling against his skin.

His breath felt heavier, and the damp air carried a faint scent of old stone and stagnant water.

At the same time, the sounds behind him gradually faded.

The soft dripping of water became increasingly distant, while the hymn that had followed him through the nave diminished until it was little more than a faint pulse.

He continued descending and the farther he went, the colder the air became, and the heavier the silence pressed against him.

Eventually, the stairs ended.

Thoren stepped onto a narrow stone platform and raised his gaze toward the space ahead. Beneath the Soul Lantern’s pale light, he saw an ancient well standing before him.