Zhua’s eyelids trembled slightly as he regained consciousness, feeling an absolute cold against his face.
His fingers brushed against something fragile and icy.
Opening his eyes, he realized he was surrounded by snow.
Looking down at his hands, he confirmed that he was lying in it.
Letting his body fall back onto the snowy ground, he murmured to himself,
“It was the only solution, wasn’t it?”
He wasn’t exactly pleased with his situation.
First, because now that he was inside the painting—especially within a miniature historical dungeon—time itself had become distorted.
He had no idea how much time had passed in the physical world.
Perhaps an hour, a week, a month, several months, or even years.
He simply didn’t know.
That meant he had to act quickly.
Secondly, he was worried about Madam Zeuna—or rather, his adoptive mother.
Even now, he struggled with the words mother and mom.
According to the fragments of memories he had retained from before his transmigration, he had probably been somewhere between twenty-six and thirty-five years old in his previous life.
Zeuna herself was around thirty-four, perhaps even younger in appearance.
She was roughly the same age as the man he used to be.
It made calling her Mom feel strange.
But because of that Fallen Monarch, she could truly die now.
So he had to survive, no matter the cost.
Before it was too late.
With that thought in mind, Zhua finally found the determination he had been lacking.
He pushed himself to his feet and noticed a ruined city in the distance.
He began walking, his boots sinking into the freezing snow while the fierce wind threatened to tear his clothes away.
After several minutes, he reached the city.
Immediately, he noticed there were no signs of life.
Zhua searched every ruined house he came across but found nothing.
Well, not exactly nothing.
Skeletons.
Lots of skeletons.
Continuing onward, he eventually spotted a building larger than the others.
Nothing happened.
Taking a few steps back, he looked upward and noticed that a large section of the roof had collapsed.
“It probably fell inside and blocked the entrance,” he muttered.
He circled around the building and found an open window three times taller than he was.
“This should work… right?”
Backing up five steps, Zhua sprinted forward and jumped.
His hands grabbed the edge of the window.
Tightening his grip, he swung his legs backward before kicking against the wall to stabilize himself.
With considerable effort, he pulled himself up and climbed through the opening.
The moment he landed inside, he hit the floor hard.
“Ah, damn it!” he shouted.
Placing his hands on the cold stone floor, he pushed himself upright and checked for serious injuries.
Finding none, he looked around.
Only then did he realize that the building wasn’t a house at all.
It was a cathedral.
His gaze soon landed on a lantern lying on the ground.
Picking it up, he examined the mechanism and figured out how to activate it.
“Let there be light.”
The lantern flickered to life, illuminating the room.
A skeleton dressed in white priestly robes stood beside a pedestal.
Zhua paid little attention to it.
He walked over, noticed a key hanging from a chain around the skeleton’s neck, and tore it free.
After scanning the cathedral one final time and finding nothing else of value, he left.
Outside, the wind howled even more violently than before.
At one point, he thought he saw something in the distance.
Curious, he headed toward it.
Eventually, he climbed a hill and reached its summit.
There, he saw a ruined temple.
A spark of hope appeared on his face. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Only to vanish instantly, replaced by pure fear.
Perched atop the temple was an enormous, deranged creature.
Its body possessed the general shape of a wolf, yet it resembled a monstrous yeti.
Thick scales covered portions of its body.
It had razor-sharp claws, massive wings, and dragon-like horns.
However, the yeti-like characteristics overwhelmingly dominated its appearance, while traces of draconic blood remained visible throughout its form.
The creature radiated madness.
Dementia.
Terror.
Danger.
Rage.
Murderous intent.
Corruption.
Zhua watched the monstrous being from afar.
Although it had not yet noticed him, merely looking at it made his instincts scream.
The creature briefly shifted its gaze in his direction before returning to its slumber.
To that horrifying monster, Zhua was less than an insect.
Not even worth acknowledging.
Not a threat.
Not an opponent.
Nothing.
For the first time in a long while, Zhua felt truly insignificant.
Weak.
Powerless.
Meaningless.
And yet.
He could feel his heart pounding inside his chest.
Not from fear.
But from excitement.