Chapter 648 - 542: Screaming Cape, the Nightmare Appears

Chapter 648: Chapter 542: Screaming Cape, the Nightmare Appears

"Anyway, the rumors about this Nightmare in that area are getting wilder and wilder. You’ve got people trying their luck and others just going to watch the show."

After hearing Holland’s report—imprecise, yet clear enough in its broad strokes—Roland already had a plan.

Screaming Cape and Shipwreck Bay, relatively "accessible" areas on the outskirts of the Broken Star Sea, were perfect targets for a preliminary investigation.

"In that case..."

Roland stood up, brushing the dust from his robes as his gaze swept over Holland and Ellis.

"We’re changing course. We’ll head to the Screaming Cape area first."

Neither of the other two objected to this decision.

Holland was driven by a pure love of adventure.

As for Ellis...

He had nowhere to go after leaving the academy anyway. Following Roland at least meant he wouldn’t have to worry about his next meal.

Over the next several days, the scenery and the atmosphere quietly shifted.

The harshness of the dry wasteland was gradually replaced by the growing humidity and the faint, salty tang of the sea in the air.

The road grew more rugged, eventually disappearing beneath a series of pale gray cliffs, which were pocked with countless holes and eroded into strange shapes by the sea wind.

They followed a path winding eastward along the ancient sea cliffs, a trail beaten down by Hunters and herb gatherers.

The vegetation changed as well. Low, thorny, salt-tolerant shrubs with thick, fleshy leaves designed to store water began to appear.

The sound of the wind was no longer a simple moan. It was now mixed with the muffled roar of distant waves crashing against the rocky shore and the whistling sound—sometimes sharp, sometimes low—it made as it swept through the jagged crevices of the stone.

Perhaps this was the origin of the name "Screaming."

Finally, on an afternoon more than ten days after leaving Gray Rock City, the trio climbed around the bend of a particularly high sea cliff, and a completely different scene unfolded before them.

Ahead, the pale gray rock wall looked as if it had been cleaved open by a giant’s axe, forming a massive, curved inlet that cut deep into the mainland. This was the Screaming Cape.

The cape was flanked by towering cliffs that directly faced the vast, boundless Broken Star Sea, its waters a deep blue that was almost black.

The sea here was far from calm. Even on windless days, you could see lines of white surf constantly smashing against the jagged reefs and the base of the cliffs, letting out a continuous roar.

The sea wind funneled into the cove unimpeded, crashing and echoing between the rock walls. It truly let out sharp cries like the wretched wails of countless creatures, enough to make one’s scalp tingle.

To the south of the cape, looking past a relatively flat tidal plain covered in black reefs and coarse sand, they could see the entrance to another, more fragmented bay.

There, the crooked remains of a few masts and a rusted hull were faintly visible on the water’s surface, like the bones of a great beast half-buried in the waves and sand. This must be Shipwreck Bay.

Farther out, where the sea met the sky, the dark silhouettes of scattered islands were faintly visible, like the spines of giant beasts crouching on the horizon. That was the true, unfathomable Domain of the Broken Star Sea.

The wind was fierce on the high cliff where they stood, making their robes flap loudly.

Below, along the edge of the cape and on the tidal flats, they could see a few scattered, simple tents or shelters, along with several small figures busy at work or watching vigilantly.

Those were Adventurers and desperadoes, likewise drawn by the rumors or there to make a living by other means.

They had arrived at the outer gateway to the Broken Star Sea.

"Strange..."

Standing high on the cliff, facing the fierce gale funneling into the cove, Roland frowned slightly. A strange, nagging feeling rose within him.

’This scene before me...’

’The curved cove cutting deep into the mainland, the tall, steep, pale gray cliffs on either side, the countless vertical gullies and holes carved into the rock by wind and water, even the spray kicked up by the waves crashing against the reefs at the base, which turned into grayish-white foam in a certain light...’

’All of it overlapped with another place in his memory.’

’Wailing Gorge.’

’That infamous perilous region, located on another continent across the great ocean, bore a shocking resemblance in its geographical features to the Screaming Cape before him.’

’The shape of the gorge, the texture of the rock walls and their erosion marks, even that unique sound the sea wind made as it passed through the holes—somewhere between a whistle and a whimper...’

’It was all as if cast from the same mold.’

’But the ground beneath his feet was clearly the land of the Aiselon Continent.’

’How could two landscapes, geographically separated by a vast ocean, be so similar?’

’Was it some kind of coincidence beyond comprehension, or...’

’Was there a deeper reason hidden here?’

Roland stared down at the roaring waves and jagged reefs, his gaze growing profound.

"Hey, Rudolph!"

Holland’s coarse voice broke Roland’s reverie. He pointed toward the scattered figures at the edge of the cape below.

"Stop standing around in the wind! Let’s get down there, find a spot out of the wind to settle in, and see if we can pry some solid information out of those ’neighbors.’ We’re not going to figure anything out just by looking from up here in this godforsaken place."

Roland collected his thoughts and nodded.

’Now wasn’t the time to dwell on geographical similarities. Finding the Nightmare was the primary objective.’

"Alright, let’s go down."

The three of them carefully made their way down the steep, rugged path.

The closer they got to sea level, the louder and more deafening the wind’s whistling became, amplified by the echoes off the cliff faces. The salty moisture in the air grew thicker, almost condensing into fine droplets on their skin.

The air was filled with the smell of rotting seaweed, the fishy stench of sea creatures, and the unique, slightly acrid scent of rock that has been perpetually soaked by the sea.

The "camp" below Screaming Cape was even more disorderly than it had appeared from above.

There were no real buildings, only crude shelters built in natural caves, in hollows sheltered from the wind, or cobbled together from waterproof tarps, broken ship planks, and even the bones of large Sea Beasts.

The people were few and far between, but every one of them had the fierce air of someone who lived on the edge, their faces weathered and rough from long exposure to the sea wind. They all kept a clear distance from one another, their guards up.

Aside from a few loners who looked like they were there long-term to harvest special marine products or try their luck, most were small adventuring parties in groups of three to five. Their gear varied, and their eyes held a mixture of greed and vigilance. They were clearly "profit-seekers" drawn by the recent rumors.

The arrival of Roland’s party of three drew a few furtive glances but didn’t cause much of a stir.

In this lawless place, new faces appeared every day. As long as you didn’t actively encroach on someone else’s "territory" or interests, you were mostly left in peace.

They cleared out a spot in a recess near the base of the cliff—a place that was relatively dry and offered a view of parts of the cape and the tidal flats—and set it up as their temporary base.

Holland dropped his heavy pack, stretched his stiff muscles, and was about to go "chat up" the occupants of a nearby cave that had a bit of smoke coming from it, which looked like it had been occupied for some time.

Just then...

A sudden commotion, not from the wind or the waves, erupted among the people at the edge of the tidal flats toward Shipwreck Bay, like a drop of water hitting a pan of hot oil.

A few short, sharp shouts were heard, accompanied by the sound of chaotic running and the CLANG of metal on metal.

The people scattered around the cove, who had seemed indifferent just moments before, all turned their gazes toward the source of the commotion in unison, as if pulled by invisible strings.

Many subconsciously tightened their grip on their weapons, stood on their tiptoes to get a better look, or began speaking quickly in low voices.

Tension, curiosity, excitement, greed...

All sorts of emotions rippled through the once-stagnant air like tangible waves.

Holland immediately froze, narrowing his eyes as he looked over.

Ellis quickly closed the notebook in his hands and stood up warily.

Roland’s gaze passed over the agitated crowd, settling on the more distant Shipwreck Bay.

On the surface of the sea there, a layer of grayish-white fog—thicker and more bizarre than elsewhere—had appeared at some point.

The mist swirled slowly, faintly outlining certain unnatural shapes.

The commotion in the crowd continued, threatening to spread throughout the entire cove.

A thought surfaced clearly in Roland’s mind.

’It seems we won’t have to go to the trouble of investigating after all.’

’The trail of that "Wild Nightmare"...’

’...has perhaps revealed itself.’