Chapter 376: 151. The Wheat is Ripe (7k)
In the crevice between the Spirit Realm and reality, as the shadow of the giant tree, which served as the base for the divine descent, suddenly disappeared from the air, the Crimson Mist that was continuously moving towards the divine base also stopped before the door of the Spirit Realm. However, the red mist, which had permeated the entire crevice and was constantly corroding the rules established by Dalasgon, showed no signs of dissipating; instead, it became increasingly dense.
“Mugennoawanoyde”
The indistinguishable murmurs of holiness or terror once again resonated deafeningly. The whispers suddenly penetrated the dream magic surrounding Fisher and the others, and that seemingly incomprehensible sound directly separated the entangled Erwind and Fisher. Just a moment ago, they had been devouring each other, and now this sudden separation made them both experience the immense pain of soul fragmentation.
Fisher and Erwind collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads in agony. The intense pain that penetrated to the bone rendered them mindless, only able to maintain pained groans.
At this moment, while Fisher and Erwind lay in a sea of crimson mist, the deity Dalasgon, existing within this vast space, would not miss the paused movement caused by the sudden disappearance of the base. In the next second, Fisher suddenly felt the energy around him flare up violently.
The crevice and dreams were swallowed by an unfathomable darkness, but upon closer inspection, one would find that this darkness had a shape. It was composed of countless bubble-like entities of various sizes, entirely colorless and unknown, resembling black holes that devoured the light within the crevice, including the increasingly spreading crimson mist.
In a tranquil darkness, bubbles opened like countless eyeballs, fixed on the distant spirit door, which had a large crack, from which the crimson mist was continuously oozing.
The previously indeterminate size of the crevice shrank dramatically at this moment. As the crevice continued to compress closer, sounds began to rise and fall incessantly from the dark bubbles.
Inside the bubbles were vague shapes of souls, acting as translators between all souls existing in this world and the Spirit Realm, showcasing scenes of alternating visions, undetectable dreams, a torrent of subconsciousness, and at the same time, the authority of Dalasgon.
In the indescribable might, countless beings under the darkness were unconsciously dreaming the same dream. The dream was too real and too terrifying; they felt as if they had become the most insignificant grain of sand, driven by the compressed crevice towards a crimson being.
That crimson being had already extended most of its body outside the door of the Spirit Realm, but because of the disappearance of the base, along with the forward and backward pressure, it was repelled a distance back, returning to the dark depths of the Spirit Realm.
In the darkness, Fisher and the others could not see the magnificent form of the deity’s intervention, but as the tide of all sleeping dreams surged towards the gaping door of the Spirit Realm, the dream magic that bore them rocked helplessly like a fragile boat amid a storm.
“Tsuyunogotokudenkinogotoku”
The emotionless murmur gave no hints of the deity’s emotional state. Amid the ungraspable sounds, its body had retreated into the Spirit Realm, and the countless spreading, persistent crimson mist was pushed back towards the distant door of the Spirit Realm by the acting Dalasgon.
“Crack crack crack!”
But at this crucial moment, that endlessly retreating crimson mist seemed to be a madman desperately trying to grab hold of a stone at the edge of a cliff as it lunged toward Fisher and Erwind.
Fisher caught a whiff of a fragrance that suddenly became intense, while a bone-chilling cold also surged into his mind. He could not care about Dalasgon’s instructions and opened his eyes, only to see a frenzied red mist rushing towards him.
Just at that critical juncture, the icy hand of Erwind suddenly pushed him away. The crimson mist that had originally zeroed in on them missed, instead diving entirely into Erwind’s body.
The surrounding darkness suddenly receded, and at the moment the crevice lit up, Fisher and Valentina turned around in shock to see Erwind kneeling on the ground, clutching his body, trembling incessantly.
“Erwind.”
They saw before them Erwind kneeling on the ground, unable to stop quaking. Even the slightest influx of the nearly dissipated crimson mist at the end completely distorted Erwind’s soul.
On his soul, grotesque eyes and feathers began to sprout little by little, immediately exhibiting the characteristics of the previously transformed bases of the Phoenixes. However, Erwind’s rank was far from comparable to that of the Phoenix Race, and the power of the base would quickly consume him.
Even at Erwind’s rank, he could not fully bear the great existence, and even as a base, he could only exist for a few seconds. But Fisher could not believe what would happen if that deity were to appear in reality.
At this moment, Erwind merely lifted his bird-beaked mask, calmly gazing at the quaking Fisher. His voice remained incredibly composed, still demonstrating the rationality that was not characteristic of humans.
“Fisher, our souls are now linked. You will soon be tainted by Him. You should know what to do.”
Both were extremely intelligent individuals; even though they were mortal enemies, Fisher understood Erwind’s intention in an instant.
To eradicate the taint of the Spirit Realm, Erwind, now a base, would have to die. But surrounded by the crimson mist, Erwind was not something the already exhausted Fisher or Valentina could kill—unless…
Fisher grimaced, hurried to Erwind’s side, tightly grasped his body, and then turned to Valentina and shouted,
“Valentina, this dream magic is constructed from the power of some existence, and Dalasgon cannot lift it. You must take me and him out of this dream to send us back to reality!”
Valentina looked at the crevice, which had brightened again, and quickly spread her giant wings without hesitation, flying toward Fisher and Erwind.
“Okay, Fisher, hold on tight!”
Fisher grasped Erwind, who was continuously transforming into a base by the crimson mist, then took Valentina’s hand and quickly soared into the air, flying toward the outer crevice along the increasingly shattered dream magic.
In the distance, the door of the Spirit Realm could not close because of the new base that was Erwind. Just as Fisher flew out of the dream magic, he exerted all his strength to shout at the crevice,
“Dalasgon!!”
With this shout, everyone’s consciousness was dragged down by an indescribable great power, and a feeling of rapid descent surged within a second.
“Haah.”
“Fisher, you’re back! Just now—”
Returning to reality, Fisher’s head felt dizzy. He seemed to hear Emhart conversing with a languid female voice in his ears, and that voice was exactly like the one that had reminded him to say “唐沢あすか” in a moment of crisis.
But he could no longer afford to investigate who the speaking female voice was. Frantically, he sat up, pushing away Emhart, who was trying to say something to him, clutching the death rune that had fallen beside him, panting as he limped forward.
Not far from him, Erwind, wearing a bird-beaked mask, was struggling on the ground in agony. The pain of being locked by the spirit deity caused him to grow grotesque blood-and-flesh tentacles all over. He frantically clutched his beaked mask, trying to tear it off, but even as he tore at it, he could not rid himself of the mask.
He gasped in misery until he saw Fisher rushing towards him, which calmed him slightly.
“Uh-hah. Hah.”
The base was still mutating; the deity still wanted to descend into this world, even if only for a moment. Yet Fisher did not dare to give Him that opportunity.
For the first time, Fisher gripped the short knife given to him by Eil and rushed in front of Erwind. Just as he was about to draw the blade to strike Erwind, Erwind trembled and lifted his head to look at him, smiling as he said,
“Before you make a move, let me remind you, Ag directly intercepts death. This is the ultimate judgment for an individual, not something ordinary can evade. Just now, your soul bit off a piece of mine; the moment you draw your sword to destroy the base, death will bite you as well, and you will definitely die.”
“Fisher, wait, there must be another way here, you—”
Emhart, following behind him, recognized the significance of the weapon and Erwind’s words, growing anxious as he flew to Fisher’s front, but he was too frightened by Erwind’s terrifying demeanor to say anything, floating dumbly in midair.
Hearing this, Fisher hesitated for a moment but still did not release his grip on the knife’s hilt. He turned his head to glance in the direction of the remnants of the Phoenix race, only to see that the body of the Phoenix race, which had the base stolen, had already transformed into a crystalline substance like true ice. The ice block seemed to be alive, gradually shrinking until it became a huge oval egg.
Within that egg, a blurred shadow was beating against the egg wall, and indistinctly, Valentina’s voice was heard.
“Fisher! Fisher! Where are you!?”
Fisher gasped for a second, suddenly asking,
“She’s alive?”
“I’m not sure. It seems someone fiddled with the base. When it was stolen in the crevice, logically speaking, the body of the Phoenix race should have been damaged, but now the base seems to be merging with that girl from the Turan family.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Fisher smiled as he turned his head, looking at the Erwind who lay before him. He slowly drew out the sealed short dagger and suddenly spoke,
“And her name is Valentina.”
In the next moment, as he moved his fingers and the short dagger was gradually revealed, a deepening aura left from the sealed item crafted by Ag. The moment it was drawn, the blade’s sheath instantly turned to ash. At that moment, in Fisher’s hand appeared a pure black construct, about ten centimeters long and two centimeters wide.
It could not be called a blade nor any material that could be described; it resembled a concept more than anything else.
It was the existence that every living being capable of running, imagining, and feeling instinctively feared—a final destination that was unconscious and merciless. Fisher took a deep breath, and without even seeing the appearance of the blade, plunged that “blade” into the trembling body of Erwind below him.
The death rune did not cause any wounds, nor was there any earth-shattering commotion. The only sounds, apart from the distant egg of ice, were Valentina’s constant knocking against the egg wall and calling out, which made the silence around them eerily unsettling. But the moment the death rune entered Erwind’s body, Erwind’s trembles ceased instantly.
Within the Spirit Realm, the crimson mist that had been dragging Erwind as a base retreated instantaneously, for in concept terms, this base had already perished. In that moment, another force surged through the crevice, blasting him back beyond the door of the Spirit Realm.
The door of the Spirit Realm was once again closed by Dalasgon. The situation beyond the Spirit Realm, where the crimson deity still existed, remained unknown, but the crevice fell silent once more.
In the real world, Fisher suddenly felt weak all over, an unprecedented sense of weakness surged over him, yet no violent signs arose. He collapsed beside a fragment of the Parasol Tree, gasping for air. At this moment, that terrifying struggle finally drew to a close.
“Fisher, Fisher, are you okay? Don’t scare me; your face is so pale.”
Emhart hurriedly flew to Fisher’s side, watching him collapse on the ground, desperately trying to confirm his condition. Fisher stared blankly upward until several seconds later, he finally regained his composure, shaking his head at the anxious Emhart, pointing at the giant egg holding Valentina beside him, saying,
“Emhart, you go comfort Valentina there first. I have something to say to Erwind.”
“Alright. Then you—uh uh uh!”
Emhart paused for a moment, glancing back at Erwind, who had also collapsed on the ground, wearing his bird-beaked mask. After hesitating for a long time, he cried out as he flew towards the gigantic egg, not daring to look back.
Fisher lowered his head and panted for a long time. Until now, he suddenly felt that sensation of being bitten by death. It was something completely unimaginable for his previously healthy self—a weakness that clung to him like a shadow, a panic as if with the next blink he could fall into unconsciousness once more, which was death.
Just at that moment when the dust settled, he heard Erwind’s calm voice.
“Remarkable. Faced with death, you were able to decisively take action. You should have been a genius pursuing the truth like us.”
Erwind lay not far from Fisher, their fierce struggle finally settling to dust now, concluding in a manner that could be described as dramatic. In the end, their contest, like their pursued ideals, had no winner or loser, for at this moment, they were both facing the same fate not far away.
That is, death.
“Is that how you see me?”
Only now did Fisher suddenly understand the meaning of the saying “when a person faces death, their words are kind.” Under the pressure of death, many things he had cared for and chased after seemed to have to be released, even if he was unwilling. In the absence of everything, with no scruples, only then did the souls bound by reality and stance have space for sincere conversation.
Upon hearing Erwind’s words, Fisher shook his head, explaining,
“I’m not decisive; I’m worried that hesitation and contemplation will lead to regret. I already regret dying now. Just thinking about all the things I still haven’t done and people I haven’t seen fills me with remorse and regret.”
Erwind paused slightly. He lifted his gaze to meet Fisher’s, who was looking up at the space above him, realizing deeply the sincerity in Fisher’s words.
“I see. I thought you were like me, making a decision based on rational considerations.”
“Rational?”
Fisher panted several times, not looking at him, only mockingly continuing,
“Just now, during our battle, I devoured a piece of your soul, and thus I saw your memories. If you really were that rational, then why did you let Sister Ilos go back then? If I’m not mistaken, you didn’t let her go because of the Genesis in that subhuman sister’s hand; you let her go because of the church member behind her who granted her that identity.”
“.”
Upon hearing this, Erwind fell silent, momentarily unable to respond to Fisher’s words.
“If back then, when you went out to combat the Dead Rot Disease, there had been a kind church member in your hometown who didn’t betray your sister’s trust in the Mother, wouldn’t she have survived? You think like this, right? Because the evil existing at that time engulfed your sister, you didn’t want to betray the nun who raised Ilos, allowing the child she had high hopes for to die by your hand.”
“.”
Fisher lowered his head, calmly meeting the gaze of Erwind, who was silently observing him through the bird-beaked mask.
“If you were really rational, you wouldn’t have made the unnecessary move to save the Snow Fox Tribe. If you were truly logical, you should have used those microorganisms stored in your body in our battle. You have spent your whole life studying them and even learned to manipulate them with your physical body. If you were willing to use those bacteria as weapons against me, I would have perished from some unknown disease long ago in Miya.”
“You concealed your strengths, entering the crevice to combat me in a way I excel at, and I nearly was not your match. Even I have to admit, Torga, you are a true genius. The Mechanism refers to you as a madman bewitched by the supplement manuals, but to me, you are not a madman dominated by those manuals. In the realm of magic, I heard those utterances more terrifying than my reading of the Soul Supplement Handbook; you were not at all swayed by those murmurs, were you?”
Erwind before him remained motionless. It was not until he finished listening to Fisher’s words that he lowered his gaze to his hands and smiled, somewhat mockingly.
“Torga. I once swore to use my life’s knowledge to combat diseases and deaths that devour lives. Therefore, I did not wish to make my originally dying enemies into my handy weapons. Haha, I gave up everything as a human—my body, my name, my past—thinking I could discard these useless items and pursue the truth obsessively. Yet I never expected that no matter how much I tried to rid my heart of everything, they still left traces. And this may be the true reason for my failure.”
“Maybe so, or perhaps it is because those ‘weaknesses’ that you could not eliminate from your heart are the proof of your humanity. No matter how rational, you were once human, and that fact has been preventing you from cutting away everything human. Cough, cough, I’m really going to die, but I still feel a little unwilling.”
Fisher closed his eyes. In his mind, the figures of Raphael, Jasmine, Elizabeth, Valentina, and…Renee flickered.
The regrets of those he had yet to see and the promises unfulfilled surged to his heart, making him genuinely regret just having made this choice. Even though this choice had been the best conclusion, he was simply a little unwilling.
“Fisher, let me see the other handbook you have. As I approach death, I still want to know if the Magic Lord really left her heritage to you.”
“Heritage? What are you joking about? I’ve never even seen her, so how could I have her heritage? The ring on my hand was merely obtained accidentally from a ship exploring the Southern Continent. As for my other handbook…”
Fisher smiled, holding up the Supplement Handbook for Sub-Humans in his hand. Under Erwind’s serious gaze, that line of words that seemed like a joke caught his attention.
The atmosphere at the scene fell silent for a moment, and then Fisher could not help but cover his stomach and laugh, while Erwind dumbly lay back on the ground. Watching Fisher’s expression of incomplete laughter, he quieted down for several seconds before bursting into laughter.
“Hahaha, so this is the kind of book…hahaha!”
“Perhaps this is why I have always had subhuman ladies around me.”
“No, I think it’s purely your fault, Fisher.”
After hearing this, Fisher sat up in dissatisfaction, wanting to refute Erwind’s accusation. But at that moment, before his eyes, after seeing the “Supplement Handbook for Sub-Humans” in Fisher’s hand, a look of relief washed over Erwind’s face. The bird-beak mask that had previously not come off began to dissolve into ash gradually, along with her legs, slowly stepping into oblivion.
But the most shocking thing was that under that mask was a serene face of a Shivali woman.
Locks of smooth, red hair, identical to her sister’s, cascaded down her forehead, resting against her beautiful cheek, giving her a resolute yet peaceful demeanor, hardly resembling the Life Lord who had long cast a shadow of terror over Fisher.
Erwind, no, Torga’s face gradually revealed an exhaustion that seemed as if she had waited countless times. As the lower half of her body turned to ash, Fisher also felt his lower half losing sensation. But before that, Torga pulled out a handbook and a vial from her bosom. Gently tossing them to Fisher’s embrace, she said,
“Before coming to the Northern Region, I knew you had a death rune, so I naturally considered the worst scenario. That is, this potion can greatly activate your life force if I were to be struck by you using the death rune, allowing you to survive one additional month even while being pursued by death. In this month, do whatever you want, see the people you regret not seeing, and, of course, you can look for other ways to escape death.”
“As for the Life Completion Manual, studying it might let madness completely erode your mind. But with your wonder, of course, you may be able to avoid the side effects, climbing higher than I have. Touching the truth is not impossible; you decide for yourself.”
“Oh, and one last thing: stay away from the Creation Society, especially that lying Fate Lord. The Magic Lord disappeared a long, long time ago. The Magic Lord I met when I entered the organization was fabricated by Fate Lord. Now that the Society is in disarray, her one-woman show cannot continue. This time, using you as a tool to search for the leader is something you should consider.”
Torga closed her eyes, having long since taken a deep breath of fresh air she had not enjoyed in a long time. She deeply inhaled the surrounding air, only to suddenly smell a hint of sweet wheat. She opened her eyes to find herself standing in a vast expanse of golden wheat under the setting sun, wearing simple clothing, stunned as she watched her sister, wearing a hat, running through the wheat fields.
Torga said nothing, standing dazedly in the field until after what seemed like a long time, her sister, who had gradually run far away, had somehow returned to her side, tightly holding her hand and smiling as she called out,
“Torga! Torga! Sister! What are you dazing for? Look, the wheat is ripe! You’ve finally come back; I’ve been waiting for you to help me harvest the wheat. So much wheat!”
Torga stared blankly at her sister, who was completely unharmed, with a somewhat hesitant expression. She seemed to want to say something special but hesitated for a long time. The reunion after such a long time turned into a lump in her throat, leaving this genius who had saved the Western Continent momentarily at a loss for words.
Amid the overflowing fragrance of wheat, she trembled as she squatted down, looking at her sister, who had grown to her chest, smiling as she stroked her head, saying,
“Yeah, the wheat is ripe. That’s wonderful; the wheat is finally ripe. So wonderful.”
In the Parasol Tree, Torga’s body gradually disappeared, turning into ash that fell to the ground.
Death had caught up with her, taking everything from Torga, but it was still not satisfied, instead continuing to glare at the Na Li man sitting before her, who was also facing death.
He was once the deadliest enemy entangled with the being known as “Erwind,” yet he was simultaneously the only one in the world who truly understood the doctor named “Torga.”
Such is the nature of worldly affairs.
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(The End of This Chapter)
