The date the Dark Tide arrives is never fixed.
It only vaguely follows a blurry pattern.
It always happens around the turn of the year when the snowflakes fall.
It could be October, it could be November, or it could be delayed until December.
Therefore, these three months are heavily referred to by scholars and those in the know as…
“The Final Month.”
October 25th, Year 42 of the Dark Age.
Whitestone City.
Fine snow like salt was sparsely sprinkled over collapsed roofs, frozen streets, and silent ruins.
At the entrance of a simply reinforced stone house hung a slightly crude wooden plaque:
【7-Copper Post Office • Whitestone City Branch】
Inside the house.
“…I remember it, you know. It was a day just like this, with thin snow falling.”
An aged, raspy voice with a thick accent echoed eerily in the empty room.
“The mist rolled out from the eastern valley, quiet as can be…”
“First, the livestock stopped calling, then the children stopped crying…”
“And then…”
The voice babbled on, recounting the events of over a dozen years ago.
It was describing the scene when this small city-state was swallowed by “The Silent End.”
On the other side of the room.
Lin Gui and Eve sat side-by-side on two overturned wooden barrels.
Both had their hands stuffed into the pockets of their thick robes, their necks retracted into their collars.
Their faces bore an identical expression of near-numb helplessness.
As soon as this old gentleman had entered, he started reminiscing about the past.
He had fallen into a loop of nostalgic mourning.
Lin Gui didn't actually mind him saying a few extra words.
But the problem was…
This old gentleman was saying far too much.
He had been trapped in his memories since the moment he stepped through the door…
Nearly twenty minutes had passed.
He repeated the same story over and over, with every detail perfectly intact.
Lin Gui finally reached his breaking point.
As the old man reached the eighth time he mentioned the “mist swallowing people in silent annihilation,” he decisively cut in.
“Um… Sir.”
“Do you… have a letter to send?”
“Or is there a letter for you on the list?”
The old ghost’s narration came to a screeching halt.
A moment of blank confusion appeared on his translucent face.
Then he scratched his head somewhat sheepishly.
“Sending a letter, eh…”
“Well, I stayed single my whole life, so I don’t have an old lady.”
“As for friends and old cronies… I’ve pretty much ‘seen them off’ already.”
His tone was casual, as if he were stating a common fact.
Lin Gui and Eve were taken aback for a moment.
“Seen them off?” Eve repeated softly.
“Aye,” the old ghost nodded, his soul-shadow flickering slightly in the air.
“When I died… or rather, when I became like this, I was eighty-nine.”
“And I’ve been floating around here for another sixteen years…”
He counted on his translucent fingers, then lifted his face, revealing a touch of pride.
“By my reckoning, I’m about a hundred and five now!”
“I’m someone who’s witnessed the descent of the Demon God, the world-ending rain of blood, the collapse of order, and the rise of the city-states.”
“I was supposed to be in the ground already. Who would’ve thought that after running into that business, I’d still be ‘living’ this long in this shape?”
“Pure profit. Absolute profit.”
“I really have to thank the Dark Tide for that.”
He chuckled a few times with a hint of smugness.
Lin Gui: “…”
He didn't know how to react for a moment.
It was the first time he had ever met someone who treated encountering the Dark Tide as a good thing.
“Old-timer, if you aren’t sending a letter…”
Lin Gui tried to bring the conversation back on track.
“We still have to get to the next stop, so if you could…”
“Oh, I know, I know!”
“Just let me finish… Wait, where was I?”
Before the old ghost could reply.
Several hushed but urgent “voices” suddenly drifted in from the corners of the room, outside the windows, and even from under the door cracks.
“Old Gery, are you done grumbling yet?”
“The messenger laddie has plenty more letters to deliver!”
“Exactly! You’re delaying everyone’s progress!”
“Let him go! We still need to ask them to deliver my replies to Blackwater!”
It turned out that, without realizing it, quite a few glass beads of other ghosts had silently drifted nearby.
They were “looking” at Old Gery now, their mental fluctuations filled with wordless urging and helplessness.
Being scolded by his “neighbors” made Old Gery feel a bit embarrassed.
“Fine, fine…”
He waved a translucent hand toward Lin Gui and Eve.
“Laddie, lass, thanks.”
“Safe travels to you…”
After seeing off the talkative Old Gery and handling the collection and delivery for the other glass beads.
Once he saw no more ghostly blue pinpoints lingering outside.
Lin Gui closed the creaking wooden door of the temporary post office.
He shut out the fine snow and the deathly silence of the ruins alike.
Inside, he flicked his finger.
A spark from an Ignite spell fell into the stone hearth.
The dry wood crackled to life.
The dancing flames dispelled the chill, casting their long shadows against the mottled walls.
Lin Gui and Eve sat around the small fire.
They organized the letters sent and received today, sorting them into labeled wooden crates.
It had been over ten days since they left Blackwater City.
Traveling with Eve across the edge of the Wailing Corridor, Lin Gui had already passed through nine city-state ruins swallowed by “The Silent End.”
Whitestone City was the tenth.
Every time he arrived at a new set of ruins, Lin Gui’s process was quite fixed.
He would first choose a relatively intact and conspicuous building.
Usually, it was the old town hall, the plaza clock tower, or a shop along the main street.
After a simple cleaning, he would hang the wooden plaque for the portable post office, the Whitestone City Branch, and consider it “open for business.”
He wasn't in a hurry to activate his Eyes of the Netherworld to search around and scare the ghosts.
Instead, he took all the letters designated for that city.
He would hang them neatly one by one on the large display board he had modified on the post office’s outer wall.
It was just like what he had done at the Labor Dispatch Center when he first arrived in Caran City.
He believed the “residents” here would come to see for themselves.
And sure enough.
Often before a single night had passed while he and Eve rested inside the post office.
The System’s notification pings would begin to sound in his mind one after another:
【Ding! Letter sign-off rate has reached 5%.】
【Ding! Letter sign-off rate has reached 7%.】
…
By the following morning.
Several slightly reflective glass beads would usually gather quietly in the shadows beneath the display board or in the cracks of the walls.
Only then would Lin Gui walk out the door.
Facing those “hidden” beads, he would calmly introduce his identity and intentions.
As the first batch of ghosts who received letters couldn't contain their excitement.
They would step forward to inquire or give thanks, and the bridge of communication would be established.
Fear would gradually dissipate after they confirmed that “this mage is not a Netherworld messenger.”
In its place came cautious anticipation and trust.
Only after that would normal collection and delivery services fully commence.
Rate on N.U.
