Chapter 228 The strange language



Chapter 228 The strange language

Lyla, perplexed by the peculiar symbol, whispered in hushed tones, "This is quite intriguing."

Upon her touch, an unexpected surge of energy coursed through her, eliciting a gasp from her lips. A translucent digital window materialized before them, displaying two cryptic phrases in an unfamiliar script.

Lysander, taken aback and bewildered, muttered, "What on earth is happening?"

Lyla, her gaze fixed on the mysterious writings, questioned, "Can any of you decipher this before ?"

Lysander shook his head. "I've never seen a language like it before."

"Only one should exist, only one should leave. "Fray, his eyes locked on the digital window, to himself, his eyes cold yet very confused

Lyla noticing Fray's distant expression inquired, "Fray, does this mean anything to you?"

Fray, still entranced by the enigmatic script, replied, "No, I don't understand it either."

" What should we do now?" Lysander

" We need to find who met this fire?" Lyla

" We should take a look at the gap..."

As Lyla and Lysander's conversation echoed in the background of Fray's senses he focused on the digital window, ( It's the language that Yassine spoke in his world) The presence of this language here was a puzzle to Fray and even its continent made him confused

[Don't lock eyes and don't hesitate_ Only one should exist, only one could leave. ]

(Did it mean that I should kill them?) Looking at Lysander and Lyla he couldn't help but think of the only conclusion he found ( No, I should find how wrote this first)

Turning to Lyla and Lysander, Fray suggested, "Let's separate and search for any clues."

Lyla agreed, "Alright, I will go west."

Lysander collapsed against a gnarled tree, panting heavily. The bewildering experience had left him with an angry expression etched upon his face.

"This bastard," he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with pain, "why did he do this?" Lysander's hand trembled as he clutched a small, shimmering scroll in his palm, now spent. "I used one of my three escape scrolls." His breaths came in ragged gasps as he tried to collect his thoughts. "Uh, uh, I need to find Lyla..."

As he mustered the strength to move, a sudden rustling in the underbrush nearby drew his attention.

His gaze darted in the direction of the noise, and his muscles tensed. Out of the shadows emerged a masked man, his identity concealed by a hood and full-body cloak.

Lysander's eyes narrowed as he assessed the newcomer, his instincts sharpening. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not after what he had just endured.

His voice, though strained, managed to escape his lips. "How are you?" The question hung in the air, a threadbare lifeline tethering the two figures in this eerie forest clearing.

Summoning his strength, Lysander prepared to draw his bow, eyes fixed on the enigmatic figure before him. But the cloaked man shrouded in mystery, chose not to respond with words. Instead, in a blur of motion, he lunged toward Lysander, intent on delivering a lethal blow.

Lysander's instincts kicked into high gear, and he evaded the assailant's lightning-fast strike, simultaneously drawing his bowstring taut.

But before he could release an arrow, the hooded man demonstrated an uncanny speed, vanishing from Lysander's sight and reappearing behind him in the blink of an eye.

In that fateful moment, time seemed to stand still as the cloaked figure's clenched fist punched through Lysander's chest, leaving a gaping, fatal wound in its wake.

....

Fray stood at the forest's edge, his eyes fixed on the immense gap that stretched out before him.

The chasm seemed to swallow the landscape, a dark abyss that separated the two halves of the dense woodland.

His expression was a mixture of cold determination and deep concern, a furrow forming on his brow.

He took a step closer to the precipice, peering down into the void below. The jagged rocks and swirling mist only added to the sense of foreboding.

Fray considered whether he could jump across, but a sinking feeling told him that success was unlikely. This chasm felt more than just a natural obstacle; it was as if it were a tear in the very fabric of the forest, a rift in reality itself.

Suddenly Fray turned in shock as a shocking scene caught his attention. Tall rays of energy surged upward, surpassing even the tallest trees in the forest.

The energy was a brilliant crimson, thick and pulsating, resembling hundreds of red whips frozen in a dance of power.

The spectacle filled the air with a palpable tension as if the very world around him was being held in check by these ethereal tendrils.