Malicious Curse

Drunkum reopened his eyes. Initially, they were a bit dull and shady, but rapidly, a brilliant spark resurfaced, bringing them back to their original color.

"Dammit... it's happened again... Huuu..."

Attracted by his voice, Atlas turned around but didn't move even an inch forward. Instead, he kept his distance from him.

"Hey... are you still there?!"

"Yeah..." Drunkum answered, lifting his head, "Forgive me for showing you such an awful side of me..."

"It's fine... just die too early. Or I will get in trouble..."

"Hmm..."

The old man stood and attached his lips to the bottle as if he were a thirsty beast.

Gulp... Gulp... Gulp...

"Hmm..."

Gulp... Gulp... Gulp...

"Ahhh... My throat was a little dry... hisss... that was good."

Seeing his ridiculous actions, Atlas didn't comment on them and instead tried to test him: "So... what was that? Are you ill, or is there something else?"

"Well..." The old man was ready to take another sip of that precious nectar, but Atlas's questions made him halt and stare back at him: "Hmm... Waret should have told you something about us. You should know about our precarious conditions..."

"He told me something, but he didn't explain it to me much... Do you mind telling me more?"

Since Nihilir was keeping most of the details about this weird place for himself, Atlas tried to find out the answers he needed on his own.

"Mmm... It's not a secret or something..." Drunkum shrugged his shoulder as if he didn't care and started speaking: "Actually, Waret and all the others, including me, were affected by a powerful curse... we are soul bound to this place and prohibited from moving too far from this damned formation. It's already a miracle for us to be able to live in that small village."

'So, they knew about the curse.' Atlas shouted internally but still feigned a shocked expression on his face: "Cursed? By who?"

"Well... probably by the same bastard who ruled over this putrid and awful place. Damn him and his nine generations..."

Clearly, they knew that there was someone behind this matter but didn't know his true identity.

"But what about the periodic visit you made to the continent?!" Atlas remembered the village chief's words and couldn't help but ask, "Waret told me that there is someone in your village who goes back to the continent every six months. Is he immune to this curse?"

Gulp... Gulp... Gulp...

"Well... that little fellow is cursed too." He sighed, looking rather gloomy, "No one was spared from the vicious and malicious air hovering above our village. Even the newborn couldn't evade it. It's a damned plague that's nurtured by our souls and spread to our descendants without restraint."

Sure, this curse was even more malicious than he anticipated. Indeed, anger could not help but form in his heart, giving him a lot more to think about.

"It's just that after a few generations, the effects on our descendants would weaken for at least hundreds of years, granting them the opportunity to stay away from this place for several days. Just a tiny bit of light in the midst of this darkness. Probably just an illusion granted by our torturer to make us fall for his wicked tricks and spread his vicious hands over the continent."

Atlas could feel his anger and sadness in each of those words. He couldn't imagine his pain, but he needed an answer now more than ever before: "Can you cure yourself?"

He knew that it was a stupid question but had to ask it.

"No. It's directly connected to our souls. Someone tried to sever this connection in the past, but it was useless as it's a deep-rooted illness, almost impossible to cure and hard to weaken. Furthermore, this place is constantly strengthening its power, and if not fought hard, it could even consume our cultivation realm day by day and bring us back to common mortals."

Consume their cultivation realm...

Affecting their souls...

And it could even spread like a bloody plague...

Undoubtedly, the one behind this scheme was vicious beyond compare. An enemy that was making Atlas regret coming here more and more.

"Probably... there is no way out... Unless you can instantly cut the connection between you and this place..."

"Indeed... we thought about that possibility, but is that even possible? Nah..."

Atlas could see the old man tightening his grip over the bottle as if to vent a bit of his frustration, but for some reason, the bottle didn't break.

"Something like that is impossible... after all, we are talking about cutting all connection with this world and moving toward somewhere else?! But where? Another world? Is that even possible?"

At this point, Drunkum looked at him with a hopeful gaze, and Atlas knew what he was hoping for. Actually, he had thought of the same, but that wasn't something he could do.

"Atlas... you appeared on our island through that portal... I heard stories about powerful beings that, with absolute control over the space law... can create worlds and independent spaces... maybe, you can ask that existence, he may know a way."

"I..."

"I heard the story you told them from Waret... and undoubtedly, that wasn't a portal caused by an accident with a teleportation formation... I'm pretty sure."

"Hmm..."

Atlas didn't know what to say for a long time, giving the old man the opportunity to continue and make things even more explicit: "I won't pry in your secrets... It's just that I hope you will consider helping us with this matter. At least try it. We won't blame you if nothing came up anyway."

Drunkum ended his speech and sure gulped down another good amount of wine.

Atlas kept looking at him, unsure of what he could say or even do. Nihilir wasn't giving him an answer at the moment, so he left him empty-handed.

"I won't lie to you and promise something like that... but undoubtedly, I will try it."

"Good... that's more than enough for me." He said, looking a bit more joyful, "... such is the case. We should follow the direction indicated by the Soul Compass... and save your beloved... as for those rusty picks that dare to block my way, then... I will send them back to the ground with my hands."

Breet!

Drunkum blew his whistle and summoned his little boat.

Initially, his speech was certainly reassuring for the young man, but then it turned into a nightmare.

Saving Rose was his primary goal, but delving further into these damned seas wasn't a very tempting prospect, especially with this angry old man, who seemed ready to raze everything in front of him.