Reincarnated into a Snow Griffin-Chapter 53

Curiosity is not a mere treat of mine anymore, at this point information is the key to surviving in this strange and new place, so I take my chances and keep pushing for information.

"... Is it dangerous then? To be out there?" I say in a small voice as the other one nods.

"Of course, the dead are always envious of the living after all, and will try to get their life back no matter the cost most of the time, and..." He keeps talking but I stop paying attention at that point for my mind is already thinking of one thing only.

That is, the boy, the little devil, is alone in this city in who knows where for who knows how long, and he is not aware of the dangerous situation he is at!

Bells start ringing in my ears as I stand, worry filling my mind as I wonder just how long he has been out and if he had perhaps been caught on something weird already.

"Sorry mister cultivator, if you excuse me I have a place I need to go to..."

"Oh, sorry for keeping you for so long then, of course you can go, just be careful on your way out and don’t linger here any longer. And, wait, before you go, here." Before I move to far from him he hands me a paper talisman made of gold and red with something written on them, but I can recognize them once the paper is resting on my hands for not only they are present on my Magic Book but at my own wooden talisman warped around my neck.

Runes.

"This is a talisman to protect you from the ghosts, it will work in most of them if they attack you, but be careful anyway, better yet, leave this place as soon as possible... or come back here, I can protect you." I’m so intrigued by the pattern of the rune that I do not pay attention to his last words, and not at how strange they sounded coming from his mouth, and simply thank him for his guidance and present, moving away and soon setting foot outside, no luggage to look after as I’ve always carried them with me, so without any intentions of coming back to this place I take a small whiff from the very feeble boy’s smell and set out to find him in this big city, not aware that the cultivator of fine clothes and velvet words had just set the bait, and that his intentions were never as pure as he intended them to sound as, worsened the moment he saw my face upstairs.

And what would make me understand just how twisted the cultivating world is, and just how true the little devil words were, and in the cultivating society that puts so much importance in not losing face and looking strong, it is easy to twist what lay in front of their masks to a friendly face, especially when, the older they get, the more proficient in it they become.

And for those seeking immortality, with hundreds of years on their backs, the life of mortals are as valued as the passing blooming spring, too beautiful to be left unattended, worthy of a vase of their own, to be admired closely under their gaze.

But for their eyes only to see as it winters away, feeble life it is, harvested away from the ground.