Chapter 1103
Ten Thousand Years of Inner Monologue
As the Ring Heavenly Envoy called out, a grand and sacred consciousness gradually separated from his heart. A mournful voice, like that of a poet, echoed within him:
“Him as well, and you as well… why are you always so cold and stubborn? Why refuse my gift? Why torture yourself to this extent? Abandoning your lover, abandoning eternity, abandoning everything… what did you gain? Must the world be buried for your willfulness?
I will bring you all the mysteries of the universe, the truth of all things! Don’t you want to know how to return home? Don’t you want to know what this world is made of? Don’t you want to know how to travel from one world to another? Don’t you want to know the origin and end of civilization?
I know all of this, and you will know it too. There is only one trivial price to pay, and that is to coexist with me… My friend, the parasitic species within your body number in the tens of millions! Every single cell of a mortal contains myriad lives, so what does it matter if there’s one more of me!?”
“Saying this is useless, you can go to jail happily with me.”
The Ring Heavenly Envoy scoffed: “The moment you first tried to rewrite my will and I discovered it, I knew I could never trust you again.”
“We—we have never rewritten any host’s consciousness! We only provide ‘possibility’, offer a potentially better approach. We have witnessed the birth and demise of countless civilizations…”
The Whisper of the Void continued to chatter in the Ring Heavenly Envoy’s mind, but he had already closed his eyes and leaned back, violently smashing the cola in his hand towards the screen.
“—Shut up.”
He opened his eyes again, the dim yellow entirely gone from his cold, emotionless pupils: “Liberty—or death.”
As he refused to cooperate, the voice in his heart faded again.
The Ring Heavenly Envoy did not know if the next thought that surfaced in his heart was his true self, or a rewritten one. If the rewrite was subtle enough, he himself would not be able to detect it. Perhaps, this gradual accumulation would lead him to gradually become another person.
At that point, would he still be himself?
…But if, in order not to become another self, he severed his emotions and directly became another self, wouldn’t that already be…
“—I said, shut up!”
The Ring Heavenly Envoy furiously picked up the cola cup and hurled it towards the screen that had just been smashed and instantly regenerated.
Watching the screen that was shattered and then restored, the Ring Heavenly Envoy panted, his thoughts gradually surfacing:
…He was not originally such an easily angered person.
But after ten thousand years of failure and torment, after ten thousand years of long self-reflection and reincarnation… even his patience and love had long since been worn away.
He had forgotten Amber’s name. Just as he had forgotten his own affection back then.
He felt a pang of pain seeing Eivass happy at his wedding. But rather, that heartache made him feel the reality of being alive.
Now, he even doubted… whether he had ever truly loved Amber? Or rather, was it a lie he had been telling himself from the very beginning? He had only done so because he was too lonely after arriving in this World…
“—Shut up!!”
The Ring Heavenly Envoy’s furious roar echoed solitarily at the end of a world utterly devoid of people.
Here, his words would not pollute anyone.
This was his “home”, and also his self-imposed prison.
But there was only one thought that the Ring Heavenly Envoy was certain of—a fact he understood even without the pollution of the Whisper of the Void.
…He probably couldn’t hold on much longer.
The more he watched Eivass’s growth, the more he saw the plan fall into place step by step… the more he saw the end of reincarnation approaching, the more restless he became. Only at such times did he wish his humanity was not so active.
He couldn’t hold on much longer.
He couldn’t hold on much longer.
You couldn’t hold on much longer.
I couldn’t hold on much longer…
“Shut up…”
The Ring Heavenly Envoy sighed, tiredly closed his eyes, and pressed a hand to his forehead: “Fine, do as you please.”
He no longer had a human body.
Such actions were of no use to him; it was merely by relying on such “habits” that he maintained the vitality of his memories, so as not to be polluted into another person by the “knowledge” silently inserted by the Whisper of the Void.
He might have even had quite a few false memories silently inserted. Just as he did not know if Amber had ever truly existed…
“Tsk…”
The moment this thought surfaced in his mind, the Ring Heavenly Envoy let out an annoyed “tsk”.
—It’s not over today, is it?
Did Eivass guessing my plan excite you so much? This kind of thought, which he could easily discern the truth or falsehood of, was now meaningless. Rather than infection, it was more akin to provocation…
And on the Ring Heavenly Envoy’s screen, Eivass was conversing with Haibasha.
Haibasha’s miracle of resurrection was finally complete—
—It was indeed a miracle.
Unlike Master Amber, who merely sculpted a brand new body; nor like Eivass in his Child of the Candlemaster form, who restored a corpse to life with ultimate healing abilities.
This was the resurrection of someone who had died two thousand years ago, reappearing in the world two thousand years later!
Not healing, nor preservation, but complete “creation”—pure spellcraft, condensing a brand new body from nothingness and bestowing upon it complete life.
This technique, however, was somewhat similar to that of the Swamp Dweller… Eivass suddenly had this thought.
Coloxos, brought back to life, finally slowly opened her eyes.
She looked at everything before her in a daze, embraced by an excited Haibasha.
Coloxos was a young elven woman who appeared to be in her early twenties, standing well over two meters tall, even taller than a certain camera spirit.
She had pink-purple long hair—pink on the outside and purple on the inside. This was clearly an anomaly caused by some special inheritance… at least her parents should not have had hair of this color.
It was said that Haibasha used to have brown hair, and Sherlock currently has black hair. Then the first Hermes might also have had black hair…
Coloxos, hugging Haibasha, was momentarily bewildered—she did not recognize the girl in her arms, but the emotion conveyed by the crying was so real at this moment.
But as her confused gaze swept over Eivass and Sherlock, she suddenly froze.
She looked at Sherlock in astonishment, but quickly realized she had mistaken him for someone else; then she looked at Eivass, her gaze fixed on Eivass’s antlers.
Coloxos was startled and immediately broke free from Haibasha’s embrace. Placing her right hand on her chest, she knelt and said respectfully in Elvish: “In the name of the morning sun, the raging fire, and cinnabar, I thrice worship the sinless. I pay homage to the haloed face, the Child of the Candlemaster.”
“—Your sins are forgiven.”
Eivass knew this elven greeting from the calendar, so after a brief memory recall, he quickly responded.
“Coloxos has been successfully resurrected.”
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and he said softly to Haibasha, “With this… Madam Haibasha, the commission you gave me is now completely fulfilled.”
Hearing Eivass’s words to the young elven girl, Coloxos was greatly shocked.
She looked closely at Haibasha, trying to find even the slightest trace of her mother…
Haibasha naturally knew that Eivass deliberately mentioned her name to remind Coloxos of her identity—and also to vouch for her using his identity as the Child of the Candlemaster.
So Haibasha nodded gratefully to Eivass: “Thank you…”
“That’s perfect,” Eivass seized the opportunity to say, “I also have something to ask of you—this matter can probably only be accomplished by an Apostle of the Path of Wisdom.”
“Please name it,” Haibasha replied immediately, “As long as it is something I can do, I will prioritize its completion for you.”
Looking at the little girl with red-rimmed eyes speaking to him with a hoarse voice, Eivass felt a strange sense of guilt—as if he were bullying a child.
Eivass shook his head to dispel the strange thought and opened the briefcase, placing the hilt of the Red-Hilted Sword—the key to the small chapel, and the Holy Sword Clarent before Haibasha: “This is the Red-Hilted Sword, it contains the soul of a Sun Knight. I hope you can transplant the knight’s soul from it into this Holy Sword ‘Clarent’ without any damage…”
As Eivass was speaking, he keenly noticed Haibasha looking at the Red-Hilted Sword in surprise.
He immediately stopped speaking and asked with some confusion, “What’s wrong?”
“This sword…”
Haibasha looked at it for a long time, not quite certain, then looked at Sherlock and Coloxos: “It seems to be… the Golden Sword that Hermes gifted to Hercules.”
“—It was forged by the Flame Heavenly Envoy and is called Malmidova,”
Coloxos immediately replied: “I remember clearly—the name of this sword means ‘Marble Slab’, and also ‘Fate Like Stone’. It amplifies the wielder’s arrogance and tendency towards violence. Only the purest or the most fallen can wield it.
“At that time, Hercules was about to participate in the Argonaut expedition, so he sought power from his father. His father gave it to Hercules as a joke and a test.”
Hearing this, Eivass suddenly understood.
—So the Red-Hilted Sword was Hercules’s Golden Sword!
(End of Chapter)
