The boat sped across the pitch-black sea, the crew on both sides gripping their crescent-shaped oars and rowing with all their might. Deathcurse held the helm tightly, steering through the dark night as drifting grains of ghost sand shimmered like a bright silver ribbon, constantly guiding us toward Ethereal Isle.
After these ghosts die, they turn into grains of sand that do not sink to the sea floor. Instead, as if drawn by some unseen force, they drift toward a certain place.
I've witnessed this scene countless times. When a ghost dies, it becomes a pile of sand, then the wind rises and the grains vanish within it. Where they ultimately go—I never once wondered.
The dissipation of my ghost soul began to slow down. Isabelle Frost was carefully withdrawing the seductive force that held my soul fragments together.
As long as my ghost soul doesn't completely vanish, I won't disappear. Even if only a tiny piece remains, Isabelle Frost can find a way to rebind those fragments that had already turned to ash.
My hands and feet had already vanished completely, and it had been a long time since we'd set out on this pitch-black sea—yet we still hadn't seen anything resembling an island.
Yaksha was rowing hard as well. His face always radiated anger, and he couldn't remember anything about Ethereal Isle. But now, fear showed on Yaksha's face.
"Did you remember something?"
I asked. Yaksha turned his head, looking bewildered.
"No idea. I just feel a chill down my spine."
Judging by Wraith Enforcer's expression, even though he couldn't recall anything, his body remembered. With a sudden sound, wings gradually emerged and unfurled from his back.
"Maybe we're almost there."
Wraith Enforcer muttered, and everyone glanced around, but the pitch-black sea remained empty. At that moment, the shimmering grains drifting from my body began to change direction—they were heading upward.
"Stop."
Isabelle Frost shouted, and ghostly energy began to emanate around the boat. The boat came to a halt on the dark sea, while the shimmering grains of sand drifted directly above us.
However, above us, the pitch-black sky held nothing else.
"Maybe it's up there—probably a thousand meters or more."
Ghost Painting Book Immortal spoke, and I saw in the air a green ghostly web slowly retracting.
Everyone looked at Wraith Enforcer. He quietly stood up and unfurled his wings, his expression growing uglier by the second, his face twisted in fear as he gazed at the endless, curtain-like darkness above.
"What's up there, Wraith Enforcer? You know, don't you?"