Above The Sky
Chapter 1065: 141 Mortals and Sages (Part 1 of 2, Xiawei Territory storyline conclusion, thanks to the alliance leader Flying Heart Like an Arrow!)

Chapter 1065: Chapter 141 Mortals and Sages (Part 1 of 2, Xiawei Territory storyline conclusion, thanks to the alliance leader Flying Heart Like an Arrow!)

Since childhood, Scott had always felt that something was off about the world he lived in.

The first time he had this feeling was on the day his grandmother passed away.

It was a calm and sunny afternoon. Five-year-old Scott was in the backyard pulling weeds. His grandfather and father were working at the Blacksmith Shop, his mother was filling the water tank, and his grandmother was mending their clothes.

Scott remembered that moment as though it were a photograph etched into his mind—golden sunlight, his grandmother seated in the backyard rocking chair, the dusty backyard, smoke from the neighbors’ chimney rising slowly into the azure sky, the sound of cicadas in his ears, the scent of azaleas in the air, and his grandmother smiling gently at him.

Then, in the very next second, the old woman’s head slumped down, and she lost consciousness. Sensing something was wrong, Scott ran over, calling for his grandmother, but the old woman did not respond. As a young boy, he anxiously called for his mother. The sturdy South Ridge woman panicked immediately; she rushed to fetch a doctor, but even the doctor was helpless.

“It’s a stroke,” the doctor explained. “The old lady is too advanced in age. Even if there were something we could do, it would be too late. Moreover, back then in Harrison Port, there were no physicians who could treat cerebrovascular diseases.”

The next day, his grandmother passed away. At that time, Scott still didn’t truly understand what death meant. He didn’t grasp the significance of the old woman’s absence—he only felt that his grandmother was in pain.

After his grandmother’s passing, the house became unusually lively. His father’s siblings, along with other relatives, came to discuss chipping in for the burial expenses. The house was filled with the sound of weeping, and sorrow permeated the family.

Only Scott stood there, bewildered and alone. He didn’t cry, nor did he feel sad… This even drew the attention of his father, who, consumed by guilt for not having cared better for his mother, scolded his son in frustration.

“What are you doing just standing there? Grandma cared so much for you, and yet you’re not shedding a single tear!”

It was merely a vent of anger. The man knew very well that his young son likely didn’t even understand what death was, but seeing that innocent and baffled expression, he couldn’t help but feel fury—an uncontrollable rage at his own helplessness.

Scott’s response, however, caught the man off guard.

“Dad, is there really nothing I can do?”

The boy tugged at his father’s pant leg with all his strength. His small hands clenched the coarse fabric, and his amber eyes stared intently up at the man, full of confusion. “I really want to help Grandma… But what can I do to help her?”

“Dad, is there really nothing I can do? No way to help Grandma?”

In that moment, the man, who had spent his life forging iron, blinked. He looked down at his child and suddenly realized that Scott might have been even smarter than he had previously thought.

“You can help…”

The anger dissipated, transmuting into an unspeakable sorrow. The man knelt on one knee and embraced his son, his voice trembling as he said, “Live well, Scott… Grow up strong, stronger than I’ll ever be…”

“That’s the best way to help Grandma.”

Scott had always done just that.

He lived earnestly, taking good care of himself. From childhood to adulthood, he never fell ill in a way that would trouble his parents or caused any incidents that would upset the grown-ups or even perplex his superiors.

Many said this was nothing but ordinary—unremarkable ordinariness.

But in Terra, to grow up in such an ordinary and peaceful way was, in itself, something extraordinary.

Scott had done his utmost to be the very best he could.

Yet, within his heart, that sense of “something being off” always remained.

In the house next door, there were a brother and sister who were Scott’s playmates during his youth. The girl was a bit older than the two boys, with long, ocean-blue hair, bright eyes like crystal, and a voice as melodious as a nightingale. Because her family were herbalists and she herself loved to tend to flowers and plants, she carried a faintly sweet fragrance, reminiscent of azaleas.

The girl was also very gentle, often taking care of the two boys. Whenever Scott or the younger brother got hurt while playing, she would take out ointment from her little box and tenderly apply it to their wounds.

At those moments, the fragrance and warmth of the girl seemed to seep into the ointment.

Scott frequently went to their house to play. As a boy on the brink of adolescence, he harbored a quiet crush on this older sister—a sentiment that was only natural. The younger brother seemed to have vaguely picked up on this, occasionally teasing Scott about it while at other times showing a trace of jealousy as he squabbled with his friend.

But one day, when Scott was on his way to visit their house, he sensed something was off the moment he stepped out of his door. He noticed an unusual number of strangers gathering at the street corner by his neighbors’ home. Some of them had ocean-blue hair—clearly family members of the household.

A vague unease crept into Scott’s heart. He slipped quietly into the crowd, edging closer to the house to figure out what had happened.

That’s when he heard it—the sound of crying.

A familiar sound of weeping.

A sound just like the one that had filled his own home years ago, when his grandmother had passed.

Missing.

This was the word his father used later that night, chewing on a stalk of licorice and speaking with a solemn expression to his mother.

The father and daughter from next door had joined a group of herbalists on a trip to Bilberry Mountain to gather herbs—and they had all gone missing.

Compared to death, the concept of “missing” was easy to grasp. It simply meant that someone was “gone.”

But in Terra, the word “missing” carried another hidden implication.

Not a trace of remains.