Yorick's Order has long been forgotten, and he has become the last survivor. Whether it's a curse or a blessing, he has the power to manipulate the dead. Trapped on the Isle of Shadows with him, the only ones were the decaying corpses and the screaming necromancers he had brought to his side. Hidden beneath Yorick's bizarre demeanor is his resolute desire to liberate his homeland from the shadow of the curse of ruin.

As a child, Yorick did not experience the life of an ordinary person. He was born in a fishing village on the edge of Fukko Island, and has always struggled to find acceptance and recognition. While most children of his age were playing hide-and-seek, young Yorick began to make a different kind of friend – the souls of the dead who were still alive.

At first, Yorick was horrified by the demon's yin and yang eyes. Whenever someone in the village died, Yorick would stay up all night, waiting for the new visitor to cry out from the bottom of his heart. He didn't understand why he had become the object of soul harassment, or why his parents insisted that the soul he saw was nothing more than a nightmare.

Gradually, he began to understand that the souls didn't want to hurt him. They are just lost and need help to find their way to the other side. Because Yorick is the only one who can see these spirits, he takes the responsibility of being a guide and accompanies them on their final journey to face the fate that awaits them on the other side of eternity.

The task was a mixed bag. Yorick discovers that he enjoys the company of ghosts, but every time he sends a friend off to his resting place, it means goodbye. For the dead, he is a savior, and for the living, he is a broom star that people can avoid and avoid. What the villagers see as Yorick is just a little boy babbling into the air.

Yorick's yin and yang eyes soon spread out of his village, and the few monks living in the center of Fukuko Island were very curious when they learned about it. They sent a team of emissaries to the island where Yorick was located, as they believed that Yorick could be a tool of their faith.

Yorick readily agrees to go to their monastery, where he learns how the Twilight Brotherhood behaves and what their attire really means. Each monk carries a shovel with them, symbolizing their duty to bury the dead with proper rituals to ensure that their souls do not get lost. Members of the Brotherhood also wear a small bottle containing the water of the sacred spring of Fukuko Island. They call it the Tears of Life, and the vial symbolizes another of their duties – saving lives.

However, no matter how hard Yorick tried, he was unable to gain acceptance and approval from the other monks. For them, philosophies that could only be understood by converting to the faith have become tangible objects that can be seen and touched. They hated his abilities, and he perceived things that would take them their whole lives to understand. Yorick is alienated from his brothers and is once again alone.

One morning, while Yorick was in the cemetery going about his daily duties, a dark cloud suddenly broke into his sight, and the dark cloud rolled on the ground of Fuguang Island, swallowing everything. Yorick tried to escape, but the clouds soon engulfed him, shrouding him in shadow.

Yorick looked around, and all living beings were withering and twisting, corrupted by the evil magic of the Black Mist. Humans, animals, and even plants have transformed into ugly, ghoul-like forms. The wind whispered in his ear, and the brothers nearby began to tear at the small bottles of healing water that hung around their necks, as if they were causing them great pain. After a while, Yorick was horrified to find that the souls of the monks had all been pulled out of their bodies, leaving only the cold, white corpses.

Amid the heart-rending wails of his brothers, Yorick heard voices in the fog alone.

"Throw it away. Join us. We will be one. ”

He felt his fingers clenching the vial hanging from his neck. Jorick used all his willpower to force himself to let go of his hands and order the howling spirits to be quiet. The black mist rolled violently, and the darkness overwhelmed him.

When Yorick awoke, he found that his surroundings had calmed down, that the once fertile land had turned into an eerie and barren hell, and that Fuguang Island had become an island of shadows. A lone black mist followed him, trying to take the only living thing that had not yet been corrupted. Although the black mist was tightly around him, Yorick found that the tentacles of the black mist would bounce back as soon as they touched the vial in front of his neck. He clenched the bottle of blessed water and suddenly realized that he had survived because of the existence of this bottle of water.

"Help... life," pleaded the shipwrecked sailor.

Yorick couldn't guess how long the survivor had been lying here, he had multiple fractures and blood was bleeding through the wreckage of the shipwreck. His wails were loud, but they were completely muffled by the voices of countless unjust souls on the island. Around him was a whirlpool of ghosts, dying lives attracting them like beacons in the darkness, fresh souls being the food they always crave. The man's eyes widened in horror.

He should have been frightened. Yorick had seen the Black Mist take away the geist, and he, he was a warm living being, a rarity on the Isle of Shadows. How long has Yorick been - a hundred years? - Haven't seen anything alive yet? He could feel the fog behind him tremble, wanting to greet the stranger with a cold embrace. But the sight stirred up something that Yorick had long forgotten, and this vague feeling made Yorick refuse to give up his life. The stout monk lifted the wounded man and carried him on his shoulders and led him towards the ancient temple on the mountain.

Yorick observed the wounded man's face, moaning in pain with every step. Why did you come here, the living?

After climbing to the top of the mountain, Yorick led his guests down several corridors to an old medical hall. He placed the wounded on a huge stone platform and examined his injuries. Most of the man's ribs were broken, and one of his lungs had collapsed.

"Why waste time?" A group of deep voices asked, and the fog behind Yorick spoke in unison.

Yorick didn't speak. He left the stone platform and came to a heavy door at the back of the infirmary. The door was hard to push open, and his hand only left palm prints on the thick dust. He leaned over the main door panel with his shoulders and leaned in with all his strength.

"No matter how hard you try, it's just in vain." The mist said jokingly. "Leave it to us."

Yorick replied to them again with a contemptuous wordlessness, and finally pushed the door open. Heavy oak rubs against the stone bricks of the monastery, and the rooms in the back are filled with scrolls, herbs, and jars. Yorick stared at the remnants of his life, trying to remember how to use them. He picked up a few familiar things—bandages, yellowed and brittle, ointments, dried and solidified—and returned to the stone platform to look after the wounded.

"Leave him alone," Mist said. "He was already ours when he came to the beach."

"Quiet!" Yorick snapped.

The man on the stone platform was now breathing hard. Yorick knew that time was running out, and he tried to bandage his wound, but the rotting bandage would break as soon as it was tied.

His breath was getting shorter and shorter, and there was a sudden twitch. He grabbed Yorick's hand in pain and despair. Yorick knew there was only one thing that could save his life. He twisted open the crystal vial in front of his neck, contemplating the eaux-de-vie inside. There are very few left. Yorick wasn't sure if that was enough to save the man, and even if it was enough......

Yorick had to face reality. The act of saving people is just a reminiscence of his old life, when this cursed land was still called Fuguang Island. The soul in the fog is laughing at him, and the unforgiving reality is laughing at him. This man was already certain to die, and if Yorick had used the Tears of Life, he himself would have died. He tightened the vial and hung it around his neck.

Yorick stepped back from the stone platform and watched the man's chest rise and fall for the last time. Black mist filled the room, and the evil spirit stretched out its black claws with longing. The mist trembled eagerly, pulling the souls of the dead out of the corpses. It let out a faint and feeble howl, and was instantly consumed by its new owner.

Yorick stood motionless in the room, uttering a prayer from a vague memory. He looked at the body on the stone platform and remembered bitterly the task he had not yet completed. As long as the curse of ruin remains, the same fate will befall anyone who comes to the archipelago. He must bring peace to the cursed archipelago, but after so many years of searching, all he found were rumors and whispers about the Ruined King.

He needed answers.

Yorick made a gesture, and a wisp of mist poured into the corpse. After a few moments, it sat up from the stone platform, barely aware of any self. But it can see, it can hear, it can walk.

"Help me," Yorick said.

The corpse staggered out the door of the infirmary, slow footsteps echoing through the empty halls of the temple. It walked into the miasma of the cemetery, passing rows of graves with only empty shells.

Yorick watched as the corpse walked one foot deep and one foot deeper to the center of the island, and finally disappeared into the mist. Maybe this one can come back with the answer.