Chapter Twenty-Five: The Road of the Lost

The three of them walked in silence for an indeterminate amount of time until Murong Xun suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Hm?”

Xu Ying and Zhang Jiao, who had been trudging behind him with their heads down, looked at his figure in confusion.

“How long have we been walking?”

Without turning around, Murong Xun stood in place and asked.

“Uh—”

The two were at a loss for words. They had been keeping their heads down, hurrying along, only stopping when Murong Xun did. In truth, neither of them knew how long they had been walking.

“It must have been quite a while,” Xu Ying ventured.

Receiving no clear answer, Murong Xun made a mark on the ground with his short sword before continuing onward without another word.

He knew in his heart that something was amiss. Though he had no means to measure time, he could feel a faint weakness within him—signifying that the strength gained from the fried rice had faded. This meant three hours had passed.

When they left the cafeteria for the second time, they had nearly an hour left on the duration. Now, the enhancement had worn off long ago.

Only then did Murong Xun realize, belatedly, that he had been rushing ahead without paying attention to the changing scenery around him. The campus was large, but surely not so vast that after walking for so long, they hadn’t reached any other place.

With doubt seeded in his mind, more and more inconsistencies began to emerge.

Half an hour later, Murong Xun frowned at the mark beneath his feet.

It was the mark he had made when he first noticed something was wrong.

His suspicions were confirmed—they had been walking in circles all along.

“Is there another path?” Murong Xun turned to the two silent girls.

“Ah?”

Startled by his sudden question, Xu Ying and Zhang Jiao jumped in fright.

“Yes, yes!” Xu Ying nodded vigorously, like a pecking chick.

They weren’t fools. Even though they hadn’t been consciously observing their surroundings, they had visited the College of Literature several times before. They knew the basics: after walking for so long, they should have been able to traverse the entire college back and forth.

“Lead the way,” Murong Xun’s voice was low, his short sword at the ready as he entered a guarded stance.

By the look of it, they might have encountered something formidable this time.

After all, they hadn’t merely returned to their starting point after a short while—it had been a full half hour. How vast must this circle be?

This time, Xu Ying led the way, avoiding the main road and instead taking a side path.

Zhang Jiao, still a bit afraid of Murong Xun, hurried past him to join Xu Ying, hand in hand.

Awakening had strengthened their bodies; otherwise, after walking for so long, they would have collapsed from exhaustion.

Murong Xun remained vigilant as he brought up the rear, but, curiously, no danger appeared as he had imagined.

They easily passed through the side path and merged onto another main road.

“Stop!” Murong Xun called out, then strode past the two girls to investigate ahead.

His expression darkened considerably.

Though he didn’t see the mark he’d left, he knew with certainty that this was the same road they had spent so much time on earlier.

“What’s wrong?” Xu Ying and Zhang Jiao asked, puzzled.

They hadn’t made a mistake coming from the side path and merging here.

“We’ve been walking in circles,” Murong Xun replied, sheathing his short sword and producing a large bow, over a meter in length.

Xu Ying and Zhang Jiao were astonished.

They had already been surprised by his short sword, which seemed to appear and disappear at will. But the bow was far too big to be explained away as a hidden trick.

They were dying to ask how many things he carried on him—like the talisman paper he’d handed them earlier, which had appeared out of nowhere.

But Murong Xun had no time to pay them any mind.

With the golden bow now in his hand, he tested the string. It was manageable; his strength was sufficient to draw it without trouble.

To be safe, he activated his enhancement ability.

Although the boost from the fried rice was gone and his strength hadn’t reached double, he was still formidable.

He nocked an arrow, drew the bowstring, and felt a warm current flow through his body.

An arrow slowly formed in his hand.

Murong Xun didn’t release it immediately; he was charging it, the power dependent entirely on how much energy he infused.

He wanted to test whether they were truly trapped in a loop—if so, the arrow should appear behind them.

The extra energy wasn’t for greater force, but to make the arrow last longer.

“Get to the side,” he warned.

If they stayed where they were and the arrow appeared behind, killing them, it would mean his secondary mission failed. Would that be his own undoing?

Though confused, Xu Ying and Zhang Jiao obediently moved to the edge of the road.

“Crouch!” Murong Xun instructed.

Xu Ying’s brows shot up angrily, but Zhang Jiao crouched first, tugging at Xu Ying’s pant leg.

Recalling earlier experiences, Xu Ying complied, though she cursed Murong Xun silently for his infuriating ways.

How could such a person exist in this world?

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!”

Just then, a frail, panicked voice called out.

“You finally showed yourself,” Murong Xun said, still holding the bowstring taut, maintaining his stance but ceasing the flow of energy.

“Ah, you young people never heed the words of the elderly,” came a sigh as a shadow emerged from the darkness, slowly approaching.

The figure was small and hunched; as it drew near, they saw it was a stooped old man, his face mottled with spots.

“A Lost Soul?” Murong Xun’s tone hovered between inquiry and certainty.

“Since you know me, why did you insist on pressing forward?” the old man sighed.

Murong Xun remained silent.

The Bureau of Anomalies’ files contained records of Lost Souls—peculiar beings, weak and kind-hearted, never harming others.

They were usually formed from pedestrians who died lost on the road.

Their obsession was to prevent others from getting lost.

Thus, when someone lost their way, they might wander endlessly, then stumble out by chance.

But if a Lost Soul didn’t want to let you go, you could be trapped forever in their maze, unable to escape.

“Young man, since you know who I am, I won’t stop you anymore. But you must consider carefully—there are many formidable entities ahead. I wish I could find a safe path to send you out, but I cannot. Moreover, a ruthless one has entered, battling the master of this place. If you go forward now, you are only seeking death.”