Chapter 948: Chapter 15: All for the Sake of Return_2

Writing ancient scripts on the rock walls, recording life, is not the act of a single person but of a group of people.

This group consists of homeless exiles.

These travellers record the various events of the migration period on the rock walls. They board vessels to escape the apocalypse, fleeing to the unknown south, hoping to see the sun of the oasis.

Many died during the Great Migration… The fleet was often attacked by storms, and the number of survivors dwindled.

No one knew what their future would be like.

Would they succeed in finding the “oasis?” Or… would they be swept away by the storm, then perish?

Yet these “travellers” could never have imagined that their ultimate fate would be a third option.

Abandoned by their people.

Cast out as abandoned children, left in the [Old World].

At this point, the words on the rock walls seemed to transform, and each of these characters appeared to have spirit characteristics similar to “ancient scripts”… Gu Shen never imagined that ordinary words could possess such a powerful spiritual influence.

He adhered to the translator’s advice, not forcibly resisting.

And then.

He saw the fate of the travellers drifting and withering.

…

…

The sky shattered, blood filled the air.

In a sudden storm, this vessel was labeled as “abandoned” and left behind. When Gu Shen arrived in this scene, the vessel had already broken in two.

He stood beneath the torrent of history, momentarily at a loss.

All of this felt too much like a dream.

Yet it was cruelly unlike a dream.

Severed limbs, shattered bodies, fresh heads with eyes unclosed, floated weightlessly before Gu Shen, as if he could reach out and stir them.

This was how he became so tangibly part of this “illusory story.”

And he knew… this could very likely be a “illusory story” that truly happened, but everything had already passed, and the ancient scripts on the rock walls, along with the spirit left by an unknown translator, were not enough to prove anything.

“The storm just swept through.”

A familiar female voice sounded near his ear.

Gu Shen was slightly startled.

A figure that was incongruous with the dream floated beside him, and Mu Wanqiu, who watched the writing with him, also entered the history recorded by the “travellers.”

“Storm…” Gu Shen turned to ask, “Did you experience a storm too?”

“I did, but not as severe as at Gu Castle.” Mu Wanqiu said softly, “With the captain around, few people died, but those who did die, died terribly… just as horribly as they did.”

Her voice sounded like the autumn wind.

A faint desolation, yet no deep sorrow.

But this is actually the true feeling after experiencing a storm, because in the face of that kind of catastrophe, death is only a moment, light and airy, like leaves falling in the autumn wind.

Gu Shen fell into silence.

He felt that the scene before him was harsher than a dream because he had personally experienced the terrifying Source Material Storm.

The scene before him was the result of a Source Material Storm sweeping through, where death descended.

Crying, calls for help, wailing…

More and more people were dying.

Six hundred years ago, ancient humans had astonishing levels of technology, and this vessel, though caught in the storm, wasn’t directly shredded… Unfortunately, the vessel crashed, and even if there were lucky survivors, they were destined to never find a way home.

Only a very few lucky ones were still alive.

They lived in independent compartments, surviving the long years with stored food.

Some people decided to “hibernate”… waiting for rescue from their compatriots.

They just didn’t know.

There would be no rescue.

The main fleet would not turn back; the human race relentlessly marched southward, like burning fireworks, constantly shedding, constantly peeling away, and in the end, only a select few chosen ones could reach the Five Continents.

And choosing to “hibernate” at this moment was equivalent to pressing a delayed termination key for their lives.

Their hibernation pods would be buried in dust, deep underground, and even if they were one day to awaken smoothly, all they would see would be more desolate wasteland.

And true despair.

The remaining survivors accepted the reality of being abandoned…

Some among them chose suicide.

In this desolate and shattered [Old World], suicide might not be a bad choice.

Those who wanted to live began to consolidate supplies, decided to form a new survival team utilizing the resources of the Shattered Vessels, and continued southward.

And this was precisely the origin of the evolution of the “traveller” tribe.

Humanity once went through an incredibly long migration history.

In the vast [Old World], countless Shattered Vessels are buried, with unknown numbers of sacrificial victims… These individuals in the wasteland should have swiftly perished, but natural selection is an original gene engraved in the blood of life.

These survivors gathered like small sparks in the darkness, huddling together for warmth.

If they wanted to live longer, they had to be “united.”

If they wanted to travel farther, they had to “evolve.”

Fortunately…

The heavens did not leave them with nothing.

Abandoned by the main fleet were not only these exiles but also a piece of the “plan unexpected” gospel box fragment.

At that time, although ancient humans had advanced technology, their exploration of Extraordinary Abilities was not as comprehensive as it is today.

This group of exiles elected a leader strong enough to become the master of this gospel box fragment…