Cursed Immortality

Among these enigmatic hidden powers were the Forbidden Regions, places so dangerous that even Legendary Kings tread with caution. One such place was the Valley of Sunless Dusk in the Great Scorpio Cosmic Continent.

Rumor had it that the valley was once a thriving kingdom ruled by a necromancer who sought to defy death itself. However, a catastrophic ritual to achieve immortality backfired, cursing the land and transforming its people into the first of the undead. Now, the valley serves as both a prison and sanctuary for the undead race—a place no living soul can survive.

Those who dare to enter are met with an immediate and terrifying phenomenon: Death Drain. This natural curse drains the life essence of any living creature upon entry. Survivors either perish, are reduced to skeletal remains without a will, or join the ranks of the undead. Only Legendary Rank experts, capable of resisting with their soul force, stand a chance of survival.

The valley is not just a refuge for the undead; it also draws dark beings—necromancers and death mages—seeking the power of the law of Death. But even they are not immune to the cursed aborigines who still haunt the land, remnants of the valley\'s tragic past.

Surrounding the valley are the Necrotic Marshlands, where vast swamps of tar-like black water bubble with poisonous gases capable of melting flesh. Twisted, skeletal trees loom from the murky depths, their gnarled branches reaching out like bony claws, attacking any who stray too close. Strange will-o\'-wisps float above the fetid waters, leading the unwary deeper into the swamp, where death lurks in every shadow.

Flying above these treacherous waters, Jacob dodged the branches shooting up from the black waters and the ghostly wisps chasing him like hungry phantoms. Anger flickered in his eyes. He had been sent to this cursed place without any knowledge of where he was. The terrain had shifted unexpectedly, turning into these ghostly marshlands, trapping him.

Not only that, but when he tried to fly out of this place using the flying golden disc, these strange wisps started to emerge, and then those bonny branches started to attack him relentlessly.

Although he was strong and his Eyes of Judge helped him detect many things, these things still annoyed him to no end. For some reason, those bonny branches gave Jacob an extremely dreadful feeling, so he didn\'t dare attack them.

After all, he was in the Legendary Pains, not the Path of Legend, where the power rank was limited to quasi-legend rank. However, he was confident in handling Fable Legendary Ranks.

But even then, Jacob knew he was probably as strong as a Tier-6 Fable Legendary Rank state expert. After all, there were 12 tiers of Fable Legendary State, then 9 tiers of Legendary Noble State, 6 tiers of Legendary Lord State, and finally, the 3 tires of Legendary King State.

That\'s why Jacob wanted to know where he was and what kind of place he ended up in. From the looks of things, he was in some den of dark beings, and they seemed quite powerful.

Just these bonny branches were giving him a feeling of fear, not to mention those wisps chasing after him were also strange. What made him somewhat depressed was that he couldn\'t see the end of these marshlands. It was like he was trapped, and it seemed he had no choice but to make a wish now, which he didn\'t want to, really.

After all, Jacob felt a growing unease. The more he used his Wish Power, the more he feared getting used to it, and he didn\'t want to get used to using his lifespan like some currency. He didn\'t have an infinite amount of it, after all, and he had decided to only use the power of wish when he had absolutely no choice left or the reward was worth more than his lifespan.

Jacob didn\'t even think about using only his blood anymore since he knew how difficult it was to replenish it again. It left him in a weakened state, and in the legendary plains, he didn\'t dare show any weakness.

Just as he maneuvered through another net of branches, a ghostly, amused voice echoed through the air.

"Oh? Another brave soul unafraid of the Valley of Sunless Dusk? Come, brother, you are invited aboard Blackwell\'s Ghost Ship..."

Jacob\'s guard was instantly raised when he heard those ghostly voices. He wasn\'t expecting another person beside him in this godforsaken place, and he had already assumed that this person was most likely a Dark Being since living beings couldn\'t live here.

At this moment, the air around Jacob grew thick with an eerie silence as the strange, ghostly voice continued to echo through the fetid fog. His eyes scanned the marshlands, but there was no sign of the source.

Then, without warning, a deep creaking sound reverberated through the mist, like ancient wood shifting against the weight of centuries. It grew louder and closer, and the fog parted in the blink of an eye, revealing a massive ghost ship materializing out of thin air.

Its blackened, spectral sails rippled in a wind that did not exist, and the hull of the ship was carved from shadowy, decayed wood with faintly glowing runes etched across it.

At the ship\'s prow was an enormous figurehead, a skeletal creature with wings, its bony arms outstretched as if ready to take flight. Embedded in the figurehead\'s chest was a glowing gem, unlike anything Jacob had ever seen. The gem pulsed with an unnatural light—an icy blue so intense that it seemed to pierce the darkness and death around itself.

But something even more shocking happened the moment the gem\'s glow reached the bonny branches and the wisps. The reaction was instantaneous. The branches recoiled as though burned, retreating back into the black waters of the Necrotic Marshlands, and the will-o\'-wisps flickered and vanished as if the ship\'s presence had exorcised them from existence.

Jacob\'s flaming eyes narrowed into beams, his thoughts racing. This clearly wasn\'t some ordinary ship; he could sense ghastly oppression himself and knew this ship was a treasure probably above the legendary noble rank, at least that\'s what he thought!

But despite the threat ebbing, his vigilance remained. His instincts sharpened as he hovered just above the water on his golden disc, weighing his options.

The voice returned, this time closer and dripping with mockery, "Come, brave brother, don\'t leave me waiting. I don\'t often get visitors who don\'t crumble to dust."

Against his better judgment, Jacob knew he had little choice. He couldn\'t afford to remain in the accursed marshlands, and this ghost ship—while suspicious—offered a potential way out. Nôv(el)B\\\\jnn

Moreover, he wanted to know where he was, and even if this person had some ulterior motives, he was confident that he could escape. Besides, this ship ghost ship piqued his interest. With a wary glance, he cautiously maneuvered toward the ship. His Eyes of Judge remained active, scanning for threats, but the ship remained inscrutable. The gem on the figurehead had an aura so dense that even his ability couldn\'t fully comprehend its power.

With a measured step, Jacob landed on the deck. The planks creaked beneath him, but it wasn\'t the normal sound of aged wood; it was something deeper, as though the ship was alive—or undead.

The ship\'s structure was ghostly yet tangible. Pale mist clung to every surface, swirling around his feet as he walked. The deck was lined with towering masts, their sails almost translucent, flowing as if underwater.

Faint specters moved between the rigging and hull, figures with hollow eyes and sunken faces flickering in and out of existence. It felt like walking through a long-forgotten dream, where reality and illusion melded into one.

At the center of the ship, a staircase led downward into what appeared to be the captain\'s quarters. Before Jacob could take another step, the air chilled even further, and a spectral figure walked out of the cabin and slowly descended the stairs.

It was Blackwell, a Dark Being that belonged to the Soulless Ghost Clan of the Ghost Race!