 | Name | Private’s Notes (II) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Mt. Lingmeng Gossip (I), Non-Codex Series | |
| Rarity |  | |
| Description | Private’s Notes (II) |
Item Story
| ...Something's not right. Petrenko said he heard a blood-curdling wail in the night — somewhere between the ragged breathing of a vile beast and the dying screams of a wounded man — he swore on the Tsaritsa's name. None of us heard it, not even Elena — who was on watch — but we found strange marks near the camp, as though someone had dragged something through there. Whatever it was, it can't have been alive — no living creature leaves marks like that... ...Captain Volkov suspects Professor Preobrazhensky and his underlings of playing tricks. He got us to set up a bunch more traps around the camp and even activated those defensive robots — the ones that are more valuable than all of us combined. I have no idea how he's going to explain the resource expenditure to his superiors when this is all done, but I'm sure he'll think of something... ...Professor Karnatsky's research seems to be progressing smoothly. He even found time to expound upon one of his discoveries to us rank-and-file soldiers. Up to now, he's only ever referred to us as "dim-witted lackeys." His emaciated face was flushed red behind a shower of spittle, like a dying man gaining one final moment of clarity. There was something unnatural, even detestable, about his expression. He talked about how he had extracted "the purest primal light" from the moon shard and how he would tear open the veil of the world, igniting the first spark for Her Majesty's wishes. I didn't understand what he was saying, so I nodded along and wished him a swift conclusion to his research... ...I asked Captain Volkov if I could be the one to hunt today — I need something to distract me from my thoughts. The temperature these past few days has been unusually cold, and the air is filled with the putrid smell of mold and decay. The goats were abundant when we arrived here, but now it seems they're all in hiding — perhaps our hunts are to blame, or maybe they're sheltering from the cold. Even so, I didn't have to travel far from the camp before I finally found one. ...Found is the only word I can use — it certainly wasn't hunting. By the time I arrived, the goat was standing transfixed, like a deliberately posed corpse, a very ungoatly expression frozen on its face. Its eyes were cloudy and protruding outwards, puffed up like a pair of fish eyes. But it wasn't a corpse — it was alive. Until the moment I cut its chest open, its heart was pumping blood... Until the moment I slit its chest open, my blade plunging into its heart, its foul-smelling blood spraying across the ground, gleaming inky green in the moonlight... Until the moment I opened its chest, it stood there, motionless, its swollen eyes staring into space, unmoved by its impending death, as though even the peace of the grave was not its to own... ...May Her Majesty the Tsaritsa forgive me. I haven't told anyone else what I found — I didn't see any reason to worry them. The goat was delicious as ever — that itself was enough. As soon as Professor Karnatsky is done with his research, we can leave this accursed place behind... |
More alive that wuwa.