Chapter 340: Ignore it till you make it?
(Time-Stilled World, The Arid Desert, Leo’s POV)
After taking a short rest, Leo resumed his journey towards the base of the mountain, which now stood tall and imposing at the edge of the horizon, roughly 30 to 40 kilometers away.
The shimmer of the mountain’s presence became clearer with each step that he took across the desolate sands, as he had to restrain himself from going on another killing frenzy, which felt like a constant temptation tugging at his stomach.
Apart from the urge to kill, Leo found the journey to be surprisingly straightforward, as there were no major distractions along the way, and his path remained mostly uneventful.
With the desert sand occasionally brushing past him and the color of the sky barely shifting in the time-frozen world, he reached the base of the mountain in approximately two and a half hours, his pace steady and uninterrupted.
"The Mountain of Illusions", that was what the ancient texts had called it.
As according to scattered records from the old era, following the Great Dimming, this mountain was converted into a mass burial site, where local clans driven mad by illusionary forces turned on one another in blind violence, eradicating every last member of their kind.
Since then, the mountain had earned infamy as a cursed land, one that devoured the minds of those who dared climb it.
Even today, legend had it that anyone attempting the ascent of the mountain had to be wary of spectral entities and relentless hallucinations, as this mountain marked the most mentally grueling portion of the entire journey to Castle Bravo.
The ancient texts warned that the closer one got to the Castle, the more sinister the world became and with the mountain being one of the last obstacles before the Castle revealed itself, it was one of the most dangerous areas to enter, especially for solo adventurers.
"Well, if there’s one thing I’ve got in abundance, it’s mental fortitude." Leo whispered to himself, as he reached the base of the mountain and approached the start of the trail leading upwards.
"I already know the rules for survival here.... Which is : hear no sounds, pay heed to no distractions and believe no lies you see. If I just follow that... I’ll be okay."
With that resolve in his heart, he began his climb along the broken stone path, its rough edges poking through the shifting dunes as nature had almost claimed the once-carved road entirely over the long centuries of disuse.
For the first twenty minutes, there were no real problems.
However, after ascending approximately four hundred crumbling steps, Leo began to notice a creeping fog dulling his clarity, as though the air itself carried some ancient toxin that was affecting his thoughts.
His mind wandered toward grim subjects like "What is death?" And "Is there life beyond death?" , which were philosophical tangents he had never indulged in, yet now found himself struggling to resist.
"Think nothing..."
"Hear nothing..."
"Believe nothing..."
He whispered the three rules again and again like a sacred mantra, repeating them under his breath as his boots crunched over old gravel and his gaze stayed firmly locked on the winding path ahead.
*SKWOOSH!*
A sudden gust of wind rushed past his face, sending a sharp chill rippling through his spine, as for the briefest moment, he was almost certain he saw something white streak past in a blur just ahead — something that did not belong to this world.
’Probably a spirit,’ Leo thought, keeping his body rigid and movements calm, as he chose to pretend he hadn’t seen anything at all, as that was the exact strategy he had decided to employ today.
’I’ve seen enough horror movies to know exactly how the idiot main character dies — a weird sound, a flicker of something unnatural, and instead of ignoring it, they walk right toward it like clueless morons. If only they had a bit of sense, they wouldn’t die in the first place.’
’But I’m not like them. I will ignore all sounds and keep to myself!’
Leo maintained this internal monologue with grim amusement, ignoring the faint flickering of white shadows dancing in his periphery.
Even as ghostly forms drifted silently through the air behind him, teasing and spiraling like mischievous wisps, he kept his eyes glued to the path ahead as if blind to everything else.
"Leo... my sweet Leo—" a voice called out gently beside him, soft and painfully familiar.
His breath caught slightly, not from fear, but from recognition, as he knew that the voice belonged to Amanda.
Her voice carried the same warm tone, the same affection that used to wrap around his name like a soft blanket. "Why won’t you turn and look at me?" she pleaded again, standing just out of sight.
Leo gritted his teeth slightly and shook his head without speaking, forcing his legs to keep moving at the same pace.
He had no doubt in his mind that if he turned, he would see Amanda, or at least a flawless replica of her, standing by the trail with outstretched arms and inviting eyes.
But that was precisely why he did not turn.
He knew he missed her too much. He knew that if he allowed himself even a glimpse of her form, emotions would rise within him that had no place in this world, emotions that could crack the focus he had built like armor around his mind right now.
Logic reminded him that Amanda could not possibly be present in this time-frozen realm, and he repeated that truth silently to himself with every step, casting away the siren call of illusion as he focused on his breathing and the broken stone beneath his feet.
’Ain’t nobody getting into my mind,’ Leo thought with a smirk, his pride swelling even as his shoulders remained tense and vigilant.
Ghosts clouded his vision, swirling closer with every step, tugging at his robes, brushing his cheek with icy fingers.
Elena. Luke. Jacob. Su Yang. Dumpy. Ben. Even Sophia.
One by one, the mountain conjured visions of those he cared for, crafting them with painful precision to tempt him from the path.
But Leo refused to grant any of them a single glance.
He kept walking at a steady pace, unshaken by the jargon surrounding him, as little by little, despite the whispers in his ears and the chill on his skin, he made his way up the mountain without any stoppages.
Soon, the final steps of the first mountain on the chain faded behind him and the slope evened into a stretch of eerie flatland, and once he reached that milestone, the intensity of the ghosts distracting him reduced drastically as well.
"Phew! That was a handful–" Leo finally exhaled in relief, thinking the worst was behind him.
Yet just as his foot touched the plateau, the path ahead vanished, swallowed whole by an unsettling white mist that thickened with every passing breath.
Then, from the veil of fog, a figure emerged — ancient, unmoving, and entirely out of place.
Perched atop a weathered boulder with one leg folded neatly over the other, a ghostly figure sat with unsettling poise. Six arms rested across his knees and chest in perfect symmetry, while three serene yet sunken faces extended from a single neck, each bearing a long white beard that flowed down to the waist. Blood-red eyes flickered open across all three faces at once, piercing through the fog and locking onto Leo without hesitation.
"Welcome to the Passage of Wisdom," the figure muttered in a low, vibrating tone, his voice echoing unnaturally across the empty expanse. "Only those worthy may pass."
Leo blinked, unimpressed, and replied with casual irritation, "Yeah, no thanks."
Then he turned his body and walked straight into the fog ahead, choosing to ignore the theatrics entirely.
But as he moved ahead, the white mist began to curl around him like strands of silk, soft yet suffocating, while the air grew thinner and the silence deepened, as if the very world had twisted in on itself— and within moments, the path straightened once more, only for him to realize he was standing in the exact same place as before.
Same fog.
Same rock.
Same ancient ghost with six arms and blood-red eyes.
Only this time, the middle head was smiling, as if it found amusement at Leo’s failure to flee.
Leo’s eye twitched slightly as he stopped walking, realizing that brute stubbornness and blind faith in the "ignore it and it’ll go away" strategy had finally met its match, and that finally, he would have to acknowledge the presence of a spectre.