Chapter 132: I Will Find You, No Matter the Cost
The experience of returning to reality from historical echoes in the past was vastly different.
If the river of time had previously flowed like a fixed river, constantly streaming through established history and surging from one predetermined node to another.
Then, at this very moment, the river of time was like someone, with immense power, forcibly carving out a brand-new tributary on the main course of history.
Thus, the previously eternal and calm river of time began to roar like a tempest.
The corrective force of history was taking effect, attempting to forcibly erase the newly formed tributary and guide the river of time back to its correct course.
However, another powerful force stood firm within the turbulent river of time, like a great sword plunged into the riverbed, single-handedly resisting the ceaseless waves.
Shaya felt like a small boat on the sea, drifting with the surging waves, completely lost.
If he were truly to lose his way in such a place, he would truly sink into lost history, becoming “The Forgotten Man.”
However, soon.
Shaya sensed that deep within his Spiritual Ocean, the “Sands of Time,” which had been dim and lusterless, suddenly began to flicker.
Transforming into bright, shining stars, lighting up the darkness.
In the chaotic river of time, it illuminated the direction of his return.
Thus, guided by the Sands of Time, Shaya swiftly flowed downstream along the river of time, crossing the turbulent currents and returning to the node of the current timeline.
However.
The tributary newly carved in the river of time did not end with Shaya’s disappearance.
…
Escarnia.
The Royal City.
Within the ruins composed of corpses and debris, in the decaying Hall of Thrones.
The radiant Holy Sword, shining like gold, pierced through the darkness-devouring, black-armored King.
Vortigern coughed up a mouthful of pitch-black blood, looking at the large hole pierced by the golden radiance on his black armor, revealing a tragic, cold smile.
Too fast.
Unbelievably fast.
He had thought that even after the battle with Cain in the Valley of Annihilation, he would at least be at a disadvantage in a gradual process.
Constant pulls, constant battles, until finally the territories occupied by him and the Abyss Monster coalition would be devoured, leading to his defeat.
This process might take years, or it might take decades.
But he had not expected that in less than a year.
The rebel army led by the King of Knights would unify the entire territory without any hindrance, conquering all the monsters, bandits, and vagrants, completely pacifying the chaotic times.
Finally, they would storm the Royal City.
And at this moment, with his defeat, there was not a single thing left in the entirety of Escarnia that could stop the opponent from claiming the throne.
“King of Knights… Artorius.”
“You will regret this.”
Vortigern let out a mournful, wild laugh.
“You, who now seem to stand on the side of righteousness, are about to establish a perfect kingdom of order…”
“But with your death, and with the independent ambitions of the allied lords who once worked together… your seemingly prosperous kingdom will eventually fall apart.”
“At that time… your empire will also face the same fate of being betrayed by everyone, just like mine.”
“Just like you lost Cain!”
*Crack.*
Vortigern’s words stopped abruptly.
Because in the next moment, his chest was pierced by the golden Holy Sword, and he fell to the ground, devoid of all vitality.
Throughout the Royal City, the deafening cheers of the rebel coalition erupted.
The fall of the卑王 Vortigern also meant that the last obstacle in the entire Escarnia had been removed.
Next, it was time to build a new empire on the ruins and enjoy the fruits of victory.
However, Isadorella, the focus of the cheers of thousands of soldiers, did not show any sign of joy.
She silently removed the hairpin that disguised her as a man, wiped away the camouflage from her face, and let her silvery-white long hair cascade down like mercury.
Isadorella could clearly feel the Holy Sword in her hand convey a clear feedback the moment the卑王 Vortigern fell.
The last seal on the Holy Sword had been broken.
At this moment, she had truly ascended the throne.
All her original goals in this special space-time had been completed. By all logic, there was nothing left for Isadorella to linger for.
And the corrective force of history from the river of time was already pressing in, forcing her to return to her original trajectory.
But—
Isadorella still refused to leave.
The completely unleashed Star Holy Sword emanated a vast, ancient, and magnificent mystery.
The mystery belonging to the Holy Sword protected Isadorella, making her independent of the scouring of the river of time and the corrective force of history.
Becoming an anomaly within the original history.
“Merlin.”
“How is the intel you gathered for me on reincarnation and the black magic of resurrecting the dead?”
She held the Holy Sword, activating it with her power as a King-tier Beast Tamer, forcibly resisting the erosion of history, and spoke in a faint voice.
“It’s all gathered.”
An old man in court mage attire transmitted his voice.
“The concept of an afterlife… believe it, and it exists; disbelieve it, and it doesn’t.”
“Time, in its long passage, will eventually produce two similar flowers… a thousand years of looking back, one flower withers, another blooms.”
“However, whether they are the same flower is only for future generations to judge…”
“I don’t want such ambiguous answers.”
Isadorella interrupted Merlin unceremoniously: “Cain is Cain, unique. There are no two of him in this world.”
“Yes, this old servant has always disbelieved in reincarnation.”
Merlin wiped his sweat and spoke respectfully again: “Necromancy and Undead Creatures do have magic similar to resurrecting the dead.”
“But those also have flaws and do not meet Your Majesty’s requirements.”
He carefully glanced at Isadorella: “The vast majority of necromancy and black magic require the complete corpse of the deceased to be activated… but the noble Cain died heroically, leaving not even a trace of his remains.”
“Moreover, necromancy has significant flaws. Based on a corpse, the resurrected are all undead races.”
“Although the newly born undead may retain some memories of their original body, they are often incomplete, and their intelligence is usually impaired.”
“If so, resurrecting them would be a desecration.”
Isadorella rejected the suggestion.
She stood there on the damaged throne, silently gazing at the short letter in her hand, her eyebrows slightly lowered.
“So.”
“I will never… see him again?”
At this moment, Isadorella was not like the King of Knights who had just unified the territory and was about to achieve immortal merit.
She was more like a cat that had made a mistake.
“Not necessarily…”
Merlin spoke slowly.
“This old servant has consulted Vortigern’s archives and found a lost secret technique in an ancient Mysticism scroll from the old era.”
“That scroll states that everyone leaves a unique mark in the Spirit World upon birth, which does not disappear even after death.”
“However, under normal circumstances, it’s just a mark with a trace of spiritual characteristics.”
“But if the deceased’s reputation is great enough… there’s a slim chance, by stimulating the collective subconscious ocean of the Spirit World with the thoughts of the populace and all sentient beings, to complete that unique imprint.”
“Ultimately, to make a deceased person with no remains, only a renowned reputation, into a Heroic Spirit.”
“And then, resurrect them in the Hall of Heroic Spirits.”
Merlin hesitated for a moment.
“However, the difficulty of birthing a Heroic Spirit is extremely high; it requires extremely widespread recognition.”
“Furthermore, only by experiencing the fermentation and remembrance of long ages, becoming a figure etched in history, can one become a Heroic Spirit.”
He glanced at Isadorella beside him.
“The timeframe for the birth of a Heroic Spirit may be several hundred years, or perhaps… it may take a thousand years.”
He knew well that the King he served was Human.
And the human body could not compare to those of eternal life. Even a King-tier existence had a lifespan limit of less than a thousand years.
Therefore, this was destined to be nothing but a fleeting illusion.
Perhaps in a thousand or a hundred years, the Black Knight Cain could truly reappear in the world as a Heroic Spirit, but no one in the empire who had seen Cain’s original appearance would live to see that day.
However—
Facing Merlin’s look of slight regret and sorrow.
Isadorella merely raised her head slightly.
“To become… a Heroic Spirit?”
Her gaze turned towards the distant sky.
It was a crimson blood moon, high in the night sky.
“I will find you… no matter the cost.”
A clear tear drop fell upon the ruins.
“A thousand years…”
“Or perhaps, a god?”
