The desert had gone silent.
沙漠静得可怕.
Even the wind seemed to tire of moving.
连风都似乎厌倦了流动.
Lin Jin walked alone.
林烬独自一人前行.
His shadow stretched long across the dunes,
他的影子被拉得极长,
a dark line over a sea of white.
像一条划过白海的裂线.
---
His body still hurt.
身体仍在疼.
The muscles in his arms throbbed with every step,
手臂的肌肉在每一步中抽痛,
the heat crawling down into his bones.
热气钻进骨头里,像要把他烤空.
He didn't count the hours anymore.
他不再数时间.
The sky never changed.
天空始终如一.
The same pale sun.
同样苍白的太阳.
The same silence.
同样的寂静.
---
Sometimes, he thought he heard voices —
有时,他会听见声音——
the echoes of the dead,
那些死去的人的残响,
carried by wind through the dunes.
被风带着,穿过沙丘.
> "Help—"
"救我——"
> "Run!"
"快跑!"
> "You did this!"
"都是你害的!"
They faded as soon as he stopped walking.
只要他停下,声音就消失.
Maybe they were never there.
也许根本就不存在.
---
He reached a ridge by dusk.
天色微暗时,他走到一处沙脊.
The horizon flickered — faint lights, far away.
地平线闪烁着微弱的光,遥远得几乎不可见.
Ashfort.
灰堡.
The first human city in this world.
这世界中第一个由玩家建立的城市.
He could see its walls rising like shadows in the heat haze.
能看到它的城墙在热浪中若隐若现.
And yet — he didn't move closer.
然而——他没有靠近.
---
Something else moved in the distance.
远处有别的东西在动.
A shimmer under the dying sun.
夕阳下,一道闪光掠过.
He crouched, eyes narrowing.
他半蹲,目光一凛.
It wasn't a beast.
那不是野兽.
It walked upright.
它直立行走.
A group — four, maybe five figures.
一群人——大约四,五个身影.
Their cloaks were long and pale,
他们的斗篷长而浅灰,
trailing behind them like drifting smoke.
拖在身后,像一缕缕漂浮的烟.
---
As they passed a dune,
当他们越过一座沙丘,
Lin Jin caught the glint of metal —
林烬捕捉到金属的反光——
coins, trinkets, weapons, all hanging from belts.
硬币,饰物,武器,全都挂在腰间.
Their movements were quiet, practiced.
他们的动作安静,流畅.
Predators in human form.
像是人形的掠食者.
---
> "Grey Dealers," a voice whispered in his memory.
"灰商."一个声音在他记忆里轻轻响起.
He'd heard the name once,
他曾听过这个名字,
back when the world still felt new.
那时世界还算"新".
Information traders.
情报贩子.
Dealers who sold everything — truth, lies, coordinates, secrets.
贩卖一切的商人——真相,谎言,坐标,秘密.
People said they knew things the world itself forgot.
人们说,他们知道连世界都遗忘的事.
---
The group didn't notice him.
那群人没发现他.
They crossed the ridge and vanished into the haze.
他们越过沙脊,消失在热雾中.
Lin Jin stayed where he was.
林烬依然停在原地.
He didn't follow.
他没有跟上.
Not anymore.
不再会了.
---
He turned away from Ashfort.
他转过身,背离灰堡.
His eyes traced the horizon until it disappeared into night.
目光沿着地平线滑动,直到夜色吞没远方.
He built a small fire — no bigger than his hand.
他生起一堆火——小得只能握在掌心.
The flame flickered,
火光摇曳,
throwing his face into half-light, half-shadow.
映出他半明半暗的脸.
---
He took out the Scorched Core — the one from the fallen beast.
他取出那枚 灼砂核心——来自那头倒下的怪物.
It pulsed faintly in his palm,
它在掌心里微微脉动,
like it still remembered the fight.
仿佛还记得那场战斗.
When he gripped it tighter,
当他握紧它时,
the light flared once —
光闪了一下——
then died.
随后熄灭.
---
The desert was silent again.
沙漠再次陷入寂静.
He stared at the dying fire.
他凝视着将灭的火.
The wind whispered around him,
风在他周围低语,
moving the sand in slow spirals.
缓缓旋转着沙粒.
It sounded almost like a voice.
听起来几乎像人在说话.
> "You'll be alone."
"你终将独行."
He didn't answer.
他没有回应.
He didn't need to.
也不需要.
The world already knew.
因为世界已经知道.
---
> Somewhere far away, in the markets of Ashfort,
在遥远的灰堡集市里,
> a rumor began to spread.
一个传言开始流传.
> Of a man with twin blades, walking through the dunes at dusk.
有人看见一个双刀男人,黄昏时独行于沙丘.
> They said he never spoke, never stayed, never failed.
据说他从不说话,从不驻足,从未失败.
> The Grey Dealers called him "The Blade Without a Name."
灰商称他为——"无名之刃".