A Gorgeous White (BL)

Chapter 519: || Chapter 508 || The Dark Caves

Crunch!

The sudden noise resounded in their surroundings, louder and startling. Moulin and Hadrian froze. The man turned to Moulin in surprise. Hurriedly, the youth checked under his boot. A sigh escaped his lips. A brittle branch had snapped under his foot. "Sorry..."

Hadrian shook his head and took the younger man’s hand in his. Together, they emerged from the tunnel into a wider area.

Silver eyes widened in amazement. He knew Gohtel had to be a settlement before becoming a demonic stronghold. He took in the new location as Hadrian pulled him deeper.

A vast cavern. Man-made caves embedded in the cave walls, crude yet large. Hallways and holes as windows. Stalagmites and stalactites served as columns. Wooden debris and ash covered the cave floor. The ground was dry, solid rock with a brittle surface. And finally, he saw the source of the splashes. A wide river caught the droplets falling from the cave ceiling.

"What is this place?" Moulin spoke while he released Snow from his arms. The little fox shook his body briefly before curiously scurrying towards the cave. The tapping sound from his paws echoed softly.

"A hideout perhaps..." Hadrian replied, stroking the strange carvings on the columns. The dust covered his firm fingertips.

A hideout? Slender brows furrowed. The youth pulled away and assessed his surroundings carefully. His feet led him into one of the dark caves. Ah, it was dark. Moulin was about to open his mouth when a halo of light surrounded him. Hadrian appeared behind him with the torch.

"Remind me before you leave..." The man reminded.

"Haha... what am I, a child?" Moulin jest. He continued deeper into the cave.

What was Moulin looking for? Since his visions from the cliff edge and his encounter with Alsander, he has been curious about the island’s original settlements. Although abandoned for many years, there was bound to be some clues or anything that could help him understand how this island came to be... how it had become Salahn’s stronghold.

However, there were several caves, and it was too dark to investigate. It was like going through a maze of holes and tunnels.

"Let’s split up," Hadrian suggested as he took a tiny fire lamp from the pack. There was a little bit of oil left, which Moulin recalled they had decided to use for emergencies only.

"Don’t worry... use it." Hadrian lit the lamp and handed it to Moulin.

The latter sighed, "Perhaps, we could find some supplies somewhere around here..."

Nodding, Hadrian spoke. "Be careful."

"Ao!" Snow barked.

"Yes, watch over him for me..."

"..?" Moulin watched as Hadrian left and the torchlight disappeared into the darkness.

"Traitor..." Moulin snorted.

He started walking, gesturing the fox to hurry along.

The flames trembled within its glass confinement. It illuminated the jagged walls that bore signs of human hands. The darkness receded reluctantly, revealing alcoves and niches along the surface of the walls. Rotten remnants of wooden shelves and torn fabric hung brokenly as though something had torn them apart. The floor was littered with debris and some rocks that had looked to be part of the walls’ crevices.

That was not all...

Some ceramic shards, broken bowls, sheets of brittle paper, and... as Moulin kneeled, he tilted his head, noticing an old rag doll near the edge where the wall meets the floor, covered in centuries of dust. The more he looked, the more he wondered about the kind of life these people had been living.

The youth’s gaze swept across the dwelling. His eyes caught arrowheads and several long bows that looked as though they were tossed in the corner. Undoubtedly, people had once sought refuge here.

Moulin’s eyes blinked brightly. He took the arrows in hand, caressing the wooden body. To his disappointment, the wood had long deteriorated, and several even broken. Drawing closer to the longbow, his assessment deduced it was sturdy enough. Furthermore, he confirmed it once more the moment he held it.

Strong and still durable. "This will do..."

The arrows, however, perhaps, he could find some metal ones somewhere... if there were even any. Without hesitation, he slung the bow onto his torso.

Moulin ventured further into the caves. He realized most of the caves were connected. Each had an opening towards another dwelling, like continuous rooms. It was strange, yet it was easier for Moulin to explore.

’What happened to them?’ he wondered.

Not long after, he came across a familiar corner inside one of the dwellings. A wide alcove had shelves carved out from the rocky walls. Silver eyes lit up as Moulin drew closer, bringing his hands towards the objects on the rock shelves. A crisp sound filled his ears. Old papers, surprisingly preserved.

With an eager gaze, Moulin took one fragment in between his fingers, trying to make out the symbols that had faded away, worn out for countless years.

A familiar ancient language, he recognized. He pressed his lips together and squinted his eyes almost comically. Unfortunately, he still couldn’t decipher it. Thus, dismissing the dust accumulating on the surface of his hands, he searched for more fragments within the shelves, even going as far as scouring the walls and floors of the desolate area. Snow tried to help by bringing some paper fragments to his master with his mouth. Unfortunately, most of what he brought melted with his saliva.

A few minutes later, among all those scraps, Moulin only found three words...

"Salvation... death... punishment."

Words that could mean... anything.

Noticing that there wasn’t a single corpse around the area, did the plague really take their lives? And what of the dragon attack from the cliff? Did it mean anything?

Moulin’s gaze grew somber. With a sigh, he glanced at the little snow-white fox who tilted its head dumbly. The creature pawed at his itchy nose.

"Stop that... come here." Moulin took Snow into his arms and dusted off his fur. "Let’s find Hadrian. Maybe he’s luckier than us-"

At the same instant, light flashed from the windows of the dwelling.

"Hadrian?"

Moulin heard a sound of affirmation and the man’s deep voice. "I’ve found something..."

Wasting no time, the youth hurried out of the cave. He found Hadrian’s figure nearby and quickened his steps to follow him. The ground was uneven, yet it failed to slow down the young man’s pace.

They walked a bit farther from the cave dwellings. The edge of the ground was closer to their steps.

Splash...

Moulin found some comfort from the sound of the gentle waves from the rocky shores. It told him that there was a way out to sea.

"We’re here..."

Moulin’s gaze snapped towards the area Hadrian was facing. There beside the rocky shore were the broken water vessels, which he couldn’t recognize. Pieces of Wood floated on the water’s surface, while some larger debris was stuck near the rocks, immovable.

"Boats... " Moulin’s eyes widened. It took him a few seconds to continue. "But they are all..."

Hadrian raised the torchlight and gestured towards the end of the line of the stone bank. This time, Moulin could see the rest of the area.

Among the abandoned and dilapidated vessels, a single boat remained afloat.

Relief instantly surged into Moulin’s soul. He looked at Hadrian with bright eyes as his shoulders sank.

.....

Splash...

Moulin steadied himself as the wood seemed to give under his weight. The creaking sounds and the water splashes echoing throughout the caves gave him a haunting feeling. And the swaying of the vessel... made him fear that the boat might sink anytime.

’A barge...’ Hadrian had explained as he tested the strength of the ropes binding the vessel to the stone banks.

It was big enough to carry a small group of people and light enough to be carried by the water currents. It had a flat-bottomed hull with a large wooden cabin. Normally, it could be powered by mana crystals, but given the situation, the current and the long steering poles that rested along its sides would do.

Moulin was surprised by the fact that it hadn’t worn down after centuries. Perhaps the distinction between this vessel and the others was the material difference. Moulin could tell it was o ordinary wood.

As he waited for Hadrian to get on board, Moulin scanned the front deck of the boat, using the tiny lamp he carried. The deck had aged unmistakably. The roof of the Cabin looked durable still... and an ominous feeling probed him the longer he stared at the cabin.

"Ao!" Snow yipped, sniffing towards the cabin door.

"Snow?"

Sniff... Sniff...

At the same time, the ground swayed as another weight was added to the vessel. Hadrian’s tall figure approached the master and familiar duo. "What is the matter?"

"Something is off..." Moulin began as he stared at the cabin door.

Hearing his words, the lord’s expression darkened. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword warily as he stepped closer to the door.

Creak!

The door surrendered against Hadrian’s palm, opening effortlessly. The torchlight was lifted.

Moulin’s breath caught.

As the light stretched, one could see the wide interior of the cabin that had looked so small outside. A few crates were stacked in a corner, and some old fabric and wood had rotted and collapsed. There were holes in the walls and roof as well. However, that wasn’t what drew his attention.

It was the figures...

Bodies were scattered across the room. Yellowed bones, some were still hidden under rotten cloth and wood. Some slumped against walls, others... just fragments... stripped away by time.

The scene before his eyes answered the question that had lingered in his mind for quite a while.

A chill crawled up his spine.