1,000,000 Karma: My Reward Is a Quiet Life-Chapter 46: Separated Anomalies

He accepted the helpful words of the supposed expert, following her through the spiraling hall of bookshelves. It surpassed all logic, straight out of a fever dream; books floated in the air, constantly rotating while pages fluttered.

Somehow, the woman ahead of him walked as though it was a standard scenery, not even a stumble in her step.

"So," he decided to break the silence. "How’d you end up like that? In that bubble, I mean."

The subject immediately shook the confidence of the woman as she coughed and glanced back before looking ahead, fiddling with her fingers, "Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, looking back on it...I was tracking a powerful spiritual presence, and well...I tripped down some steps and collided with the Kidnapper Phantasm."

"It happens...to the best of us," Noah said, trying his best to calm the woman’s shame.

—

Through wandering, the meek mage found herself navigating a forest of twisted pillars. Redrum stayed a few strides ahead, ever watchful.

"This has gone from bad to worse, hasn’t it?" Astrid said out loud, clutching her stave. "First my brother, now Noah...I wonder if they’re alright?"

The orc kept his eyes ahead, though there wasn’t exactly much to make sense of. Ahead, the way was obscure by crossing blocks of stones, twisted together as if a cobweb entirely of sturdy material.

"They’re both strong and capable warriors," Redrum said for reassurance. "A place like this–no, it’d never bring them down."

"Thanks for saying that, but it’s just that kind of feeling I can’t shake, even when thinking logically," Astrid explained with a wry smile.

"I understand what you’re feeling. In the days I was a General, I always feared for the lives of my comrades. Even if I trusted their strength. I learned that worrying for them even as they fought with everything they had would only disrespect their effort," Redrum recalled, smiling as much as he could with his tusks. "However, I think worrying like that is kindness."

The way the orc spoke was like that of a philosopher who practiced the thought of pacifism. It made it difficult to recall just where the four-armed, gentle soul had originated from.

While they walked through the constantly-changing environment, the watchful pillars seemed to become more frequent. Astrid observed the surroundings until noticing it—the pillars were now endlessly ascending into the fog.

The way ahead appeared blocked by a never-ending wall that extended into the heights of the mist.

"It’s blocked off," Redrum remarked, looking up.

"No, that’s not it," Astrid corrected, in disbelief at her own words. "It’s...a bridge."

It only became clear with the movement of the obscuring fog; the "wall" was made of wooden planks, with ropes along the side. If needing true confirmation, a tilt of the head made it obvious, as though it was a bridge crossing over a sea of mist.

"An upward bridge? Even still...It doesn’t seem crossable," the orc theorized.

"I thought so too, but...This town has been acting without adhering to any reason this whole time," Astrid guessed with a gulp. "This might be the same."

The initial approach was taken by the orc, who positioned himself against the vertical bridge, grabbing onto the rope and giving it a tug to test its capacity. A quiet grumble left Redrum’s mouth as if not particularly excited about the idea of testing the bridge before lifting his foot–

"Uergh?!"

"Hoah?!"

Both adventurers let out in surprise as the orc was suddenly slanted completely to the side, yet remaining upright on the vertical bridge. It was as if the four-armed man simply defied the concept of gravity, though not by his own volition.

"Miss Astrid...! I am going to fall–but...I’m not falling?!" Redrum said, suddenly calming down as he looked around.

"Redrum? Are you alright?" The mage asked, standing by the start of the logic-defying bridge.

The orc gulped, "I’m fine...To me, you appear to be the one standing sideways now! This walkway–it’s terribly odd!"

Hearing the way the monster spoke of the phenomena, the meek elf hesitantly grabbed a hold of the rope. It took some encouraging breaths before–she lifted one foot forward. Her entire vision spun around as her stomach seemed to spin inside her body, only finding all those peculiar feelings settling as quickly as they came.

With a blink, she found herself beside the orc, standing upright on the sideways bridge without any temptation to fall back down.

"This is...nauseating," Astrid grimaced quietly, looking back at the flat ground.

"It is, but...I feel this is the way," Redrum said, taking careful steps over the rickety planks.

"You have an impressive intuition, don’t you?" Astrid asked, following behind while tightly gripping the rope. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

The orc nodded, "I always have. That’s why I feel that there’s something here, a helper, guiding us."

"A helpful spirit?" Astrid asked, wondering about the idea of that possibility. "I hope you’re right..."

--

A labyrinth of bookshelves as if all the libraries in the world had merged together; it left an astounding sight as he followed the pale girl’s guidance. He ducked his head as a floating book passed over, gliding through the air like pollen carried by a quiet breeze.

"It’s not as violent as I expected here," Noah remarked.

Rain answered, gently tapping a hovering stool, "There’s thousands of spirits residing here. Most of them don’t wish to bring us any harm."

The idea settled his heart somewhat as he looked up, watching tiny sprites flutter in the air like sparks.

["It never leaves me—the amazement for this world. While I settled for a quiet life, I have all the time in the world to live that way. But first, I want to experience what this world has."]

"Places like this are a kindness for spirits that want to interact with the world of the living again, even if it’s just for closure. It’s a shame that the bad ones have to taint it," Rain said with a quiet exhale.

"Spirits and Phantasmals...Are they different?" Noah asked.

Rain brushed her fingertips over the shelving of a tilted bookshelf, "They’re entirely different. A spirit is the wandering soul of someone who has passed on from the realm of the living. A Phantasmal–they never lived in the first place."

He followed behind the spiritual expert, carefully stepping past a hovering broom that almost seemed to wave at him, "They weren’t people before?"

"No, but it can seem that way," Rain explained with a faint sense of melancholy. "They’re born through the emotions of the living and the dead, merging with the spiritual force and mana in the world."

"Born from emotions? That sounds like it can spawn some problematic ones," Noah said.

"As you saw earlier, that’s true...I imagine something like that Kidnapper Phantasm was born from the emotions of those who experienced being kidnapped–their fear of it, the disgust at those responsible," Rain theorized, stopping for a moment. "It could be the inverse, as well."

"The inverse?"

"It could be the emotions of the kidnappers themselves, and their sickening desire to deprive others of their freedom," the woman with tired eyes spoke from a place of conviction.

While he felt there was a deeper intention laid in her words, the space to ask was snatched away by an emerging shift—

In front of them, the rows of bookshelves suddenly slammed together, blocking their path. It was loud and jarring; the wooden material collided harshly, towering tall with thousands of books fluttering.

"What’s this—?" Noah asked, gripping his axe readily.

"Something is trying to keep us away," Rain judged, adjusting her pale glove. "A territorial Phantasmal."