The weather on the island was lovely that day. Sunlight glittered on the sea, and waves battered the stranded ship, one after another, as though trying to push it toward the graveyard.
Wei Yanchi sat on a rock above the graveyard, reading the letter over and over. The more he read, the graver his expression became, his brows knitting as though something terrible had happened.
He set the letter beside him, propped his chin on his hand, and stared into the distance. A few seagulls circled low in the sky where he was looking, watching the fish in the sea below.
Perhaps because the island was so remote and sparsely populated, its buildings had barely changed over the years.
Anyone familiar with this country's customs would recognize the buildings on the island as traditional homes, styles that had remained in use since the last century.
Their group had split up to search for clues. The island wasn't particularly large, but it wasn't small either, and over a hundred residents still lived there. The Witch said the poor souls had all been dragged into the instance along with them.
However, the islanders had always been rather eccentric and superstitious. They hadn't noticed that they had been dragged into an instance and were carrying on with their normal lives. Business at the Church was just a little better, and the death rate a little higher.
Wei Yanchi figured those hundred-odd residents had been dragged into the instance because the Instance System was using them as NPCs.
These residents seemed to genuinely know certain secrets, so had they simply become part of the instance, special NPCs who provided clues?
With that thought, Wei Yanchi looked over the letter a few more times, trying to uncover some other scheme hidden within it.
Then a