Deathly Conversations

What should have been a black sea free of any debris now temporarily held a special "Skull Island," invaded by an alternative form of death.

It was formed from pure heaps of bones, with an endless pit in the central area, like a new abyss.

With only his head remaining, Yi Chen relied on the skeletal body provided by the island itself. He no longer knew how long he had been crawling downward.

Because the skeletal body was so fragile, the pressure he endured kept increasing as he crawled. Repairing and replacing the bones had become necessary.

As time passed, this process had become as natural as breathing. It seemed that Yi Chen freely used all the bones on the island as "air."

Yi Chen had forgotten his original fleshly body. He regarded these bones, and even the entire island, as parts of his body, no longer clinging to so-called wholeness or uniqueness.

Who knew how much more time had passed?

Yi Chen had even forgotten what he was doing. He had forgotten death itself.

Tap~

His feet touched the ground. He had finally reached the lowest level, and his lifeless eyes gradually regained their glow.

Since the entire Skull Island floated in the black sea, a shallow layer of seawater also spread across the bottom of this white-bone abyss, just barely covering his ankles.

Most importantly, someone was sitting down here.

A white-haired man sat there, bare-chested above the waist and wrapped in a plain white battle skirt below. A special skull hung from his waist. He was handsome and resolute.

His eyes, shrouded in white miasma, were turned to the white-maned steed crouching beside him. Though the horse possessed flesh and blood, its bones were exposed, every rib wrapping around its body like armor.

After stroking it for