Lin Qiye looked around, his eyes filled with confusion.
He had no idea what had happened.
His memory was still fixed on the moment outside Great Xia's border, in the mist, when he had faced that white-haired old man.
He remembered the man placing a hand on his sword hilt. Then, it was as if he had been frozen solid—his body and thoughts both came to a halt. By the time he woke up, he was already here...
Where was this?
Where were the others?
His gaze swept across his surroundings. This was an ordinary rocky beach. Apart from a strangely dressed little girl with terror written across her face, there was no one else in sight.
The other squad members were not nearby.
In the end, Lin Qiye's gaze still fell upon the frightened little girl.
He suddenly felt that the girl's attire looked somewhat familiar. He seemed to have seen it in some book before... perhaps in a course mentioned at the Training Camp.
The little girl warily studied Lin Qiye for a moment before tentatively asking,
"So you're not dead?"
"?"
After listening to her rattle off a sentence, Lin Qiye fell into deep confusion...
He could not understand her.
But at that moment, he finally remembered where he had seen these things before.
At the Training Camp, there had been a course specifically about the cultural differences among the world's nations before the mist descended, using them to introduce the myths and legends of different regions. He knew what countries had existed before the mist arrived, and he knew their broad cultural differences, but that knowledge had only come from books. He had never seen any of it in person, so he had failed to recall it at first.
But now, he could basically determine where