As they changed direction and began their journey back, a chilling truth slowly began to emerge.
Siye unrolled the leather map, her finger trembling slightly as she pointed to a location: "According to the plan, we should have reached this position by now, after four days."
However, before them was still the familiar tundra on the outskirts of Italk.
Skala bent down and picked up a handful of snow, rubbing it between his hands.
The snow was mixed with black ash, remnants of a bonfire.
"This isn't an illusion," he said in a low voice. "We are indeed moving forward, but our sense of distance seems to be distorted."
"Tuke didn't just pollute dreams," Gollon snorted. "He even stripped away the sense of reality."
"No matter what, this dream is over," Toka murmured.
Skala walked over and patted the young hunter's shoulder, "Come on, it's time to return to our own stage."
At noon, the team arrived at Italk.
They didn't enter immediately, but instead set up camp outside to confirm there were no new signs of nightmare within the town.
Then, Skala led a few people into the "once-polluted" town.
Surprisingly, Italk had not fallen into chaos.
Everything seemed as before—
Merchants were still setting up stalls, the old witch doctor sat by the fire polishing his shamanic tools, and children played snowball fights near the semi-abandoned totem house.
But Skala could see it: their rhythm was disrupted.
They were not as "synchronized" as before.
Previously, the people of Italk seemed to share an invisible script: their speech had rhythm, their actions had a flow, and even lighting fires and praying were perfectly uniform.
Now, they had developed "individuality."
Some trolls would suddenly stop mid-prayer to cough a few times before continuing.
Some children would secretly stuff snow into their mouths, only to be softly scolded by an old priest.
Their lives no longer repeated mechanically, over and over again.
This town was "waking up."
A dull, long, thawing-like awakening.
Skala didn't understand why they hadn't woken up immediately, only able to speculate it was due to inertia.
They had been performing this play for too long, so long that they didn't know how to live otherwise.
By evening, cooking smoke rose above the "half-asleep" ruined town, adding a touch of life to it.
Skala stood on the dilapidated city wall, surveying the town under the night sky.
His Lord, Obsidian, the Dragon of Blazing Embers, had chosen this place as the first stronghold of his faith.
Italk was once the most prosperous center of Mammoth loa worship in Southern ZulDrak, but now only ruins remained.
Skala stepped over the shattered rocks, the Obsidian divine emblem on his chest glimmering faintly.
This abandoned city now held three key values:
First, a vacuum of faith. Although Mammoth loa had not fallen, it had withdrawn all its blessings, making it perfect for a new god to reside.
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