Chapter 51: The Prophecy of the Bonecaster

"Bonecaster, do you rely on the power of the Tellann Warren to traverse dreams?" Prinn asked her.

Si nodded at him, "Exactly, Mister. So—Salser, you don't need to wonder how to move freely in dreams, humans cannot connect to the Tellann Warren."

Salser frowned, looking at the girl who had probably lived for countless years, "I haven't uttered a word, yet you've already guessed my thoughts?"

"Chavazon told me that you are a very curious person, especially about the magic and weapons of the T'lan Imass."

"Tsk..."

That T'lan Imass warrior named Chavazon is indeed a chatterbox.

"Why have you ventured here, Bonecaster?" Prinn inquired of her, "If you seek Hood's priests, what I can inform you is—they resemble your sleepless warriors, yet they are isolated from the dream itself, unable to cross the vast distances of this world through sleep."

Si shrugged, "I came here, firstly, because I'm interested in this dream, and secondly, because I felt a calling. As for who is calling me, I don't know before I meet that person, perhaps it's the same for you."

"Is there anyone else nearby apart from the two of us?" Salser turned to ask Prinn.

"Astolfo is wandering outside," Prinn replied.

Salser paused for a moment, then followed Prinn's gaze towards the door. He raised an eyebrow, "Bonecasters are adept at prophecy; perhaps that one will indeed become a future hero or savior, akin to the protagonists in knight novels?"

A moment of silence. Prinn sighed, "Do you believe that would be a favorable outcome?"

"I don't believe so; I consider it a disaster," Salser said with natural ease, for he genuinely held that belief, "Nonetheless, out of necessity, I must escort this Bonecaster to see him, would you care to join us?

"I have matters to discuss with Saya," Prinn shook his head, declining his invitation.

Who knows what you want to communicate with that black tentacle mass, bodily fluids? Salser inwardly grumbled.

"Then, please come this way, if the person you wish to see is indeed the one outside."

Salser opened the door, allowing the Bonecaster to step out of the bell tower, and then the musty smell of the dilapidated streets hit them.

...

Leaving the bell tower, Salser spread his wings and flew down the stairs, while Si walked on the air as if it were solid ground, passing through several pitch-black streets. These streets had been established for a long time, and since their inception, few had set foot on them. The paint on the walls had peeled off, corners and streetlights were covered in cobwebs, and some roadside cottages had broken windows, with wind blowing dust and leaves from unknown sources into the houses.

Astolfo was in a gloomy garden surrounded by the streets, the fallen leaves earlier had come from here.

Several arc lamps stood around the garden, their light dim, casting a grayish hue on the elm, willow, and pine trees within. The trees' branches and leaves were dry, like dehydrated corpses. The fountain, now overrun with wormwood, had become merely a decorative relic that no longer spewed water. The flower beds, too, were desolate, with the flowers withered and only weeds left in their place.

Salser walked to a five-meter-tall elm tree and saw Astolfo atop it—his feet on the branches and his head facing the ground. He held the Algaria spear—its body entirely white with golden patterns, said to be connected to the ancient Warren of the ant monsters, capable of altering gravity to some extent.

Upon spotting Salser, Astolfo waved cheerfully. To Astolfo, the world before him was indeed inverted: the upward direction consisted of Salser, a strangely shaped little girl, and the ground; the downward direction was the branches beneath his feet and the street bottom tens of meters away—theoretically above him.

"Haven't you noticed that the Warren's power is on the verge of breaking?" Salser observed him for a moment before posing the question.

Astolfo looked at Salser above him, then at the spear in his hand. He didn't seem to understand what Salser was reminding him of.

This fellow's intellect is indeed rather dull.

Salser shook his head.

The direction of gravity pull changed in an instant, and Astolfo fell straight down with a short scream.

Salser calmly watched him fall, not moving a muscle.

"Can't you catch her with a little effort?" Si tapped her staff on his leg, "Be kind to the opposite sex."

Damn it, who would want to catch a man?

Is this Rhivi-turned-T'lan Imass Bonecaster blind?

Salser's mouth twitched as he simultaneously extended his arms. Astolfo let out a cry of pain as his lower back and knee bends struck Salser's arms, producing a dull thud. Given that Salser's bones were quite strong post-demonization, his arms remained intact, but the falling Astolfo was not so fortunate—after all, Salser's arms were encased in black armor resembling thorny brambles.

"Is this the individual you sought to meet, Bonecaster?"

Salser set Astolfo down from the princess carry, straightened his knee bends, and allowed him to step onto the ground with his white women's boots. Astolfo's face appeared slightly pale, likely due to the pain of colliding with Salser's sturdy armored arms.

Si stepped forward, "Thank you for your guidance, Salser." She looked at Astolfo, nodded, "Yes, I see the traces of T'lan Imass magic on her, and more than that."

Hearing about the T'lan Imass, Astolfo stumbled, supporting himself on the demon-shaped Dark wizard, barely managing not to fall.

The Bonecaster stepped closer to him, "Listen to me, human. Your name is Astolfo, your magic comes from the Temple of Light, and the power of another ancient Warren flows around you, giving you new life and strength, protecting you." She raised the staff that had just hit Salser's calf, pointing it at Astolfo.

In an instant, Astolfo, excited and forgetting his fear of the T'lan Imass, exclaimed, "Eh? Are you declaring my destiny as a hero?"

"Your child will lead the birth of a T'lan Imass clan," Si ignored his words and said, "My world is the world you know now, but your child will provide you with the future, everything will be merged. A Bonecaster from another clan cast a spell on your mother, and this spell now lingers on you. You carry all this, in the future, please allow me to help you."

"Wait, this is a bit different from what I imagined!"

Astolfo stepped back in surprise.

"It appears you will be a father, guiding your child to embrace a T'lan Imass clan."

Salser generously put his arm around Astolfo's shoulder, as if they were good buddies. With the magic of the T'lan Imass in mind, he started contemplating how to establish a closer bond with the unreliable person before him.

"I mean—her child," Si said, "The future I want to witness is her giving birth, do you understand?"

Astolfo stumbled, almost falling to the ground.

Salser casually supported Astolfo. Now he started thinking about whether to go back and find a prostitute, then drug this fellow and send him to the prostitute, and then force him...

"But he's a man," Salser suddenly snapped back to reality from the Bonecaster's words, having been lost in his delusions.

"It doesn't matter," Si said with a smile, "We Bonecasters have many kinds of spells, and the beings born from dreams are also offspring. Besides, there is still a long time before that future."

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