Chapter 199: The Night of Destiny’s Arrival (Two-in-one)
With the ascension of the Freista Empire’s new Empress, Isadorella, and the pacification of the incident where numerous Evil Gods descended upon the Imperial Capital, a long-lost peace had returned to the entire Freista Empire and even the Western Continent. Everything seemed to have reverted to how it was before.
In the Upper City, nobles moved to and fro in the council chambers, their feasts filled with toasts and toasts. Although the Oathbound Families that had led the rebellion had fallen, the core power of the Imperial Capital had left a vacuum, which would naturally be filled by others and other factions. The largest portion of the spoils was divided among the Royal Family, the White Tower, and the Shadow Council, while the remaining scraps would be eagerly claimed by other newly emerged nobles.
In the Black Lily District, young people discussed the Royal Publishing House’s latest bestseller, “The Tale of Xiao Huo Huo,” and the recent gossip in the Imperial Capital. The hottest topic of gossip was when Empress Isadorella and her officially announced Empress’s Husband would marry. Some even dared to open betting pools on it. Amidst this bustling activity, it seemed no different from the hundreds of years of peace experienced during the Fourth Era.
However, beneath this peaceful facade, no one knew whether it would last or if it was merely a brief respite before a storm. Perhaps, as speculated by the Creator of the Glorious Era, the ancient Sun God, deities who had attained higher status truly possessed the ability to rewrite the past at will. But the future, that was something no one, not even a god, could definitively determine.
The world was not short of Holy Relics that could glimpse the past, or even rewrite it. For instance, the “Hourglass of Time” held by Queen of the Night, Augustina. Yet, no matter how powerful or high-status divinatory or precognitive abilities were, they could only glimpse a fraction of destiny, not the entirety of the future.
“Come to think of it, even if we count based on real-world time, we’ve known each other for ten years.”
“And if we include the time spent in Eden—”
“Then our meeting, our acquaintance, our encounter… was nearly twenty years ago.”
“Looking back now, it feels like a lifetime ago.”
Bright sunlight streamed through the window, falling into the quiet courtyard and also onto the maiden’s hair. Shaya held a wooden comb in his hand, gently stroking the long hair of the maiden before him. The cascade of golden hair, illuminated by the sun, reflected a radiance like glass.
“I thought you had already forgotten about my childhood,” Aerora murmured softly, leaning slightly into Shaya’s embrace as he combed her hair. Her thoughts drifted back to Ceylon over a decade ago. Previously, Aerora’s mother, the gentle Countess of Winter, would comb her hair. Until that day, all of Ceylon’s past had been buried in smoke and flames. It was Shaya alone who began to comb her hair afterward.
“How could I possibly forget?” Shaya replied, his nose catching the faint scent of sandalwood from her hair. “The esteemed daughter of the Count of Winter, the jewel of the Winter Flower Family, harbored a desire to run away and explore.”
“And, by chance, on her first venture outside, she encountered a blizzard on the ice fields far from any town. If I hadn’t come out to collect the laundry before the blizzard and Silver hadn’t found you by the forest, lost and bewildered, leading me to bring you back to the hunter’s cabin… the future contractor of the Holy Spear might have been buried in the polar blizzard.”
“Being six or seven years old, it’s quite normal to enjoy exploring,” the golden-haired maiden said, leaning against Shaya’s chest, her eyes slightly closed. After a long pause, she spoke again. “But I’m actually grateful for that blizzard.”
“If it hadn’t been for that blizzard, our life paths would have been like two parallel lines, so close yet never truly meeting. It was because of that blizzard, because of that single intersection point between the two lines, that everything that followed came to be.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Shaya chuckled. “After all, there aren’t many beautiful girls like Little Ai.”
“She’s the only daughter of the Count of Winter, the pearl of all Ceylon. How do you know I wasn’t coveting this brilliant pearl for a long time, and that encounter was actually a premeditated pickup?” He stopped combing and tied her smooth golden hair into a simple ponytail. “I’m a very selfish, petty, and greedy person. Perhaps if that opportunity hadn’t arisen, I would have planned other ways to approach you.”
“I wish you were as proactive and assertive as you claim to be,” Aerora opened her eyes and looked at her reflection in the mirror, now with her hair in a ponytail. “According to Ceylon’s customs, once you reach eighteen, you’re old enough to be married. In the old words from your hometown, we’re now considered the proverbial leftover singles, the kind parents nag to get married.”
“Little Ai, you’re really getting the hang of these puns.” Shaya gave her a thumbs-up. “But my hometown also has an old saying: ‘If the Xiongnu are not eliminated, how can we concern ourselves with marriage.’ In the Western Continent, that translates to: ‘If the Evil Gods are not eliminated, how can we concern ourselves with marriage.'”
“That sounds like you have great ambitions, Shaya,” Aerora said, giving him a playful glare with her beautiful sky-blue eyes. Anyone else might have been swayed by Shaya’s grand pronouncements. But Aerora knew his personality better than anyone; he was far more easygoing and lazy than most people imagined. If cults didn’t repeatedly cross his path, he would likely pretend not to notice them, even if they were right in front of him.
Aerora also understood the underlying reason for Shaya’s words, “If the Xiongnu are not eliminated, how can we concern ourselves with marriage.” After all, she had been by his side when he studied at the Black Tower. That Golden Elf had also been her teacher.
“Ultimately, what you can’t let go of is Teacher Heiser, isn’t it?” Aerora continued. “But that’s understandable too… If you could calmly marry me, or Miss Sylvia, or Her Majesty Isadorella, given Teacher Heiser’s current predicament, then you wouldn’t be you.”
She sat up from Shaya’s embrace, the momentary languor gone. Aerora looked straight at Shaya with her sky-blue eyes. “Since you’re finally free today, are you planning to enter the Historical Echo again?”
Given how well Aerora knew Shaya, she was certain. Shaya, who had been immersed in the data archives and meditation rooms for months without venturing out, was now sharing this rare moment of closeness with her. The only explanation was that he was ready. Ready to enter the First Era once more. This brief afternoon leisure was less about relaxation and more about Shaya’s farewell before his departure.
“Yes.” Shaya nodded. He knew that with Aerora’s understanding, he could hide nothing from this girl.
“Should I inform Miss Sylvia and Her Majesty Empress Isadorella?”
“No need. All preparations are complete. They can’t follow into the Historical Echo, and informing them would only cause them unnecessary worry.”
“Can’t follow—” Aerora’s words paused slightly. She keenly grasped the crucial information from Shaya’s statement. “Meaning, even Her Majesty Empress’s Holy Sword can’t help you in the First Era?”
“Yes,” Shaya nodded. “Her Majesty’s Holy Sword is a Holy Relic born with the mission to save the world. It possesses unparalleled special attributes against all things that can be broadly defined as ‘anti-order’ and ‘enemies of justice.’ However, what I will face this time is not evil in the broad sense—” After all, that was the Creator of the Glorious Era. Even in ruin, with only a fraction of his former authority and power remaining, it was fundamentally different from those Evil Gods. He was the ancient Sun God, the great Creator—it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he represented ‘justice’ itself. How could a Holy Sword destined to save the world fight against the Creator who defined the very concept of ‘justice’?
“However, unlike the Holy Sword.”
“The Holy Spear is both a weapon and the ‘Anchor of Storms that anchors the world.’ It has no inherent bias towards justice or evil. What I intend to use this time is the Holy Spear’s characteristic as an anchor, its ability to maintain the world.”
Aerora pondered for a moment. “Like before, can I just grant you the right to use the Holy Spear in the ancient era?”
“Yes.”
“Understood.” Aerora nodded, saying no more. This was their unspoken understanding. Normally, Aerora might have had minor emotional outbursts, or playfully acted out of jealousy to coax Shaya into making her something delicious to cheer her up. But when facing outsiders, or after Shaya had truly made a decision, Aerora would simply comply unconditionally. No matter what needed to be done, or what price had to be paid.
She silently extended her hand, her plain white fingers closing in the void. The next moment, a brilliant light, accompanied by flowing silver, converged in the void. It then formed into a small, pure silver riding spear, hovering in the air before Shaya and Aerora. In the next instant, the small silver riding spear merged into Shaya’s forehead. Shaya immediately felt the contract with the Holy Spear, shared by Aerora who had released all her consciousness.
This was not Shaya’s first time wielding the Holy Spear. He had already experienced the power of such an extraordinary Holy Relic in the Historical Echo in Escarnia. Now, after ten years in Eden, Little Ai had completely unsealed all the Holy Spear’s restrictions and fully brought it under her control. Because of this, Shaya, now its temporary master, could feel that the authority he could wield with the Holy Spear was much stronger than before.
“Then, let’s begin.” Shaya’s thoughts stirred, and he looked up one last time at the golden-haired maiden silently watching him. “Even though in the real timeline, it might only be a blink of an eye. Still, I have to say goodbye, Little Ai.”
These words were not spoken. The next moment, his thoughts moved. The mercury-colored halo, like the flowing river of fate, gradually spread around him. Then, it rendered the entire world into pure silver-white, leading to the unknown—the origin of time and magic.
…
The First Era.
Year 929 of the Cataclysmic Calendar, Month of Red Maple.
The Endless Sea, Lost Island.
Within the world of the World Tree Fragment, Shaya slowly opened his eyes. Before him were magnificent palaces, and a dark sky where no sun or moon shone, only twinkling stars. As soon as his consciousness awoke, Shaya keenly sensed the vast difference in his surroundings from before.
If, previously, the lofty will sealed deep within the World Tree Fragment was in a state of slumber, and what Shaya and Heiser had communicated with, and even what had suppressed Heiser, were merely residual traces of that lofty will leaking beyond the seal. Then, at this very moment— Shaya could feel the master of this dark hall slowly awakening. Even though it was extremely incomplete and decayed, and even though its power breaking through the seal had been greatly depleted due to being forcibly awakened before its expected time. Yet, it was an immense power that Shaya had never encountered before, possessing a lofty status that sent tremors through one’s soul.
Even setting aside the incarnations of Evil Gods that descended through ritualistic ceremonies during Isadorella’s ascension, Shaya had indeed seen a true deity before—the Crimson Moon in its semi-crippled state. However, even the true form of that Crimson Moon did not evoke the same feeling in Shaya as the entity slowly reviving in the depths of the palace.
“It seems they’re really getting desperate,” Shaya frowned, sensing the fluctuating aura emanating from the depths of the dark hall. It was clear that the decay of the Elf King’s body had exceeded expectations. This was also why, upon discovering Shaya, the best possible vessel with leverage, they were so eager to break their original plan and seek a new body.
As soon as Shaya’s thoughts arose, the next moment, he heard a indifferent, icy voice, impossible to discern as male or female, slowly echoing throughout the dark hall.
“Three days from now, at dusk—”
“Begin the ritual.”
