After walking for about half an hour, a corner appeared ahead, and then faint voices could be heard. He hesitated for a moment, but finally walked over.

On the other side of the road, there was a horse-drawn carriage parked.

It looked similar to the ancient carriages seen on TV—a wooden plank, two wheels, carrying some goods on top. It seemed to be resting by the roadside. When he saw the people sitting around the carriage, he finally let out a long sigh of relief.

Thank goodness, they’re people just like me...

Because of what Little Grace had said—“You feel different...” William Carter, although he understood it was probably a difference in temperament, had still been worried along the way, wondering what he would do if he encountered a group of monsters. Logically, even if different worlds had similar ecological environments, the intelligent beings that developed should be different. However, Little Grace had confirmed that there were indeed humans living in this world. In any case, he could finally set his mind at ease for now.

Those people looked like a group of peasants, dressed in coarse cloth clothes, some patched all over. There were six of them in total, sitting by the roadside eating and talking in a language William Carter could not understand.

Compared to these six, William Carter's clothing was nothing short of “bizarre attire.” When they saw him, all six showed curious expressions, then started chattering among themselves, discussing in a language he couldn’t comprehend. William Carter listened to them for a while, guessing they were speculating about where he came from and who he was. He sat down by the roadside, pretending to rest, but kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to run at any moment if these six turned hostile.

But to his surprise, there was no probing, no questioning. After talking among themselves for a while, the six looked at William Carter with some wariness, then packed up their things and quickly left with the carriage.

Thank goodness. Before this, William Carter hadn’t dared to turn back, afraid these six would mistake him for a scout or a bandit—something that could happen anywhere. Now that he knew these people spoke a different language, his purpose for coming out was fulfilled, and all that was left was to return.

He retraced his steps, re-entered the forest from the same spot, and found Little Grace and the two wolves waiting for him. Although it had only been a little over an hour, perhaps because of her anxious worrying, Little Grace's face was streaked with tears. As soon as she saw William Carter return, she rushed into his arms, and the two of them tumbled to the ground together.

Back at their dwelling, William Carter emptied the remaining items from his backpack: bank cards, a lighter, a compass, a flashlight, a game console, a cell phone and charger. He kept only the lighter and compass, gathered up the rest, and, under Little Grace's questioning gaze, walked out of the room.

“Come on.”

They went to the upper reaches of the creek. William Carter dug a hole with a branch, put the items in, and after a moment, all these things that didn’t belong in this world were buried under an inconspicuous little mound.

Perhaps realizing what William Carter was doing, tears streamed down Little Grace's face.

“I will never leave you...”

Gently embracing the girl beside him, he spoke softly but with unwavering resolve.

The second month after the girl’s death, one month after his sixteenth birthday, an old man he called “Grandpa” closed his eyes forever in a hospital. Then came his parents’ official divorce.

A month after the old man’s death, he and his parents—just the three of them—met for the first time in years on a day that wasn’t a major holiday. Accompanying them was a lawyer. At the top floor of the towering corporate headquarters, the huge conference table was covered with documents. The four of them sat on four sides. His parents’ expressions were as unfamiliar as if they were strangers passing by. They were like four worlds in confrontation. His parents and the lawyer argued or discussed fiercely, while he remained as quiet as the deep night in a desert.

Then came the signing.

On the way downstairs, he didn’t see either of his parents. Only at the building’s entrance did he see two luxury sports cars, each carrying one of his blood relatives, speeding off in different directions. He, with his backpack, didn’t know which way to chase or to leave.

Suddenly, he felt an indescribable, overwhelming anger. He returned to the apartment like a machine, the old man’s portrait above gazing at him kindly. Bit by bit, he removed the unnecessary things from his life and packed his huge backpack.

After visiting the graves of the old man and the girl—who would never speak to him again—he walked into the unfamiliar mountains and forests in the golden twilight.

In the distance, the fiery clouds looked like the great wings of an angel returning. Looking up, the gods in the unreachable sky cast their gaze down...

(End of Volume One)

Volume Two

Chapter One: The Small Town

Year 413 of the Atroka Calendar, Cooking Smoke Town.

This was a remote small town in the Atroka Empire—perhaps the most remote of all. The reason for the town’s formation was long lost to history; it was said that during a time of chaos, many people fled to the mountains for refuge, and thus the town was formed. The town was located on the outskirts of the perilous Watcher’s Forest, with a distant view of the Aide Plateau, known as the Dragon’s Grave. The town had no guard squad, only a single road, which passed through more than sixty kilometers of forest outskirts and connected to the empire’s great city, Wanghai. There was a small school in town, a shop, no guard squad, no doctor, no barber. There was one noble.