“So, Senior, why do you want me to specifically go out and procure supplies when no one else is around?”
“For a problem that others probably won’t care too much about. It’s likely because only you care about it, and I feel this problem isn’t worth a dedicated meeting.”
“A problem that only I care about… what is it?”
“Do you remember what you said yesterday? About the meaning of the Dungeon to this world, and why it cannot stop.”
“Yes. Perhaps Senior, you don’t understand the outside world, so it’s difficult for you to experience this.”
“No, I can feel it too—after all, I have survived here for a very long time.”
Aar, holding the things in her arms, especially an apple, wiped it carefully on herself. As a “spared agricultural market” supplying the capital, the fruits here were of excellent quality. Despite being freshly picked apples, a simple wipe of dust easily reflected shadows, and her pair of dragon horns could be vaguely seen.
“It is precisely because I can feel it that I finally understand Reviers’ reason for creating the entire Dungeon system.”
“That book doesn’t explain the reason. You also said before that you didn’t care.”
“Didn’t care? That’s right. At the time, I thought delving into the reasons was unnecessary. After all, speculating about a God’s thoughts seems rather boring.”
Aar took a bite of the apple, her dragon tail swishing behind her. Will didn’t know if dragon-kind would wag their tails to express happiness like the Half-Beastman Iaar. But… Aar, walking in the faint morning sunlight, seemed to be in good spirits.
“However, you mentioned yesterday that the ‘possible miracles’ of this world actually originate from the Dungeon.”
“That’s right. Although I haven’t delved deeply into history for many things, but…” Will took a similar apple from Aar’s arms and wiped it as well. “For example, the cultivation of fruits and vegetables like these. The initial improvement of seeds was obtained from the Dungeon. This is why Senior, you always tell us that the apples here are different from then, right?”
“…” Aar took several more bites in silence. The apple juice slowly flowed out, carrying a slightly sweet and sour aroma, making Will sigh about the quality of fruits and vegetables near the capital.
“So… the ‘Witch’ created with me as the experimental subject, transforming into her current form after I left, becoming… capable of housing such a large race and occupying such a vast space within the Dungeon, is also…”
“Yes.” Will rubbed Aar’s head, especially her dragon horns, which she had deliberately not hidden. The dragon horns felt smooth, not as hard as expected, even possessing a fragile quality as if they might break with too much force. “Without the Ancient Magic that you, Aar, constantly produced from the Dungeon’s side with your will, there would be no Witch today. No… even the very birth of the Witch was something you created with Ancient Magic.”
“…Ha. If that’s the case, then this is what I wanted to talk to you about.” Aar didn’t seem particularly happy about Will placing his hand on her head. However, she calmly removed Will’s hand. “The purpose of the Dungeon’s creation was laid before us the moment we stepped inside.”
Will wasn’t stupid. Aar’s guidance and hints had led him to this point, and he could discern this matter from both his “reading” from the sidelines and his “personal experience” within. “As humans, why did we walk in? To obtain… after clearing it, the ‘possible miracles’ that cannot be seen in the human world.”
“Reviers established the Dungeon because… she wanted… more ‘possible miracles’… is that it?”
“With only five hundred years, there was no special need. The apples in hand couldn’t have changed from a poor condition to such perfection so quickly.” Aar looked at the apple in her hand. “Ancient Magic, which cannot be traced historically and can only be forced to interpret through the power within the Dungeon, serves as the source to promote magical progress. If not for this miracle, magic would not have reached this point in the five hundred years after my death.”
She raised her head. Unknowingly, while talking with her, Will had walked to the end of the street. At the street’s end stood a large tree, and as the morning breeze gently passed, the rustling of leaves could be heard. Will then saw that beneath this towering tree was a statue of a Goddess. Reviers’ statue. It was covered in moss, as if it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. The statue’s arm was also broken in half—judging by the water erosion marks on it, this arm had been broken a long time ago. Reviers was a real Goddess, but due to her somewhat limited but not insignificant positive effects, she had always existed in a state of “believe it or not.” Although Will… finds it difficult to associate the smiling, “naive and sweet” Goddess before him with the vampire Daisianwei who caused a scene at the funeral that day.
“She used the randomly selected, deceased Emperors, who possessed unparalleled ‘desires,’ to create ‘miracles’ that were impossible in this world for five hundred years…”
“And then used the method of exploring the Dungeon to have Adventurers bring them to us ‘outside’.” Will finished Aar’s sentence. It was a conclusion that was not difficult to reach. But upon reaching it, one already understood why this world always faced its “end.” “This world is entirely built upon this system. Both its untraceable history, and the existence of God-Attuned individuals and the sole Goddess, Reviers, from the very beginning.” The underlying logic of the world’s operation relied on a continuously regenerating cycle. Reviers connected the inside and outside of the Dungeon, linking God-Attuned individuals to monsters upon their death, and set it in motion. This caused the world to prosper in a strange manner within five hundred years, and even possess the potential for more “miraculous” futures. It was a “hasty growth” and “unearned gain” method of constructing the world.
“In this regard, Reviers… perhaps should be considered a true ‘creator Goddess,’ and also a true ‘benevolent Goddess’?”
“I don’t think so either. This doesn’t feel like truly creating a ‘New World,’ nor does it feel like creating true ‘Humans’ and ‘civilization’…” Aar looked up, gazing at Reviers’ expression on the statue. The statue’s expression was also mostly worn away, but one could still discern a certain divinity that the artist originally intended to portray. A divinity that actually didn’t care about the lives of the world below, viewing everything as her “experimental subjects” for observation. A divinity that… did not seem to “live in the present,” was far beyond ordinary people, and transcended such life.
“Oh, I think I understand what Senior means. The world she created like this… is merely a world that is perpetually ‘at death’s door,’ barely clinging to life by borrowing possible miracles it shouldn’t possess to appear alive.”
“Will…?” Aar hadn’t expected Will to be able to describe exactly what she wanted to say with such accuracy. “It’s unnatural. It doesn’t possess the forward-moving cycle that a naturally functioning, living world should have. Instead, it has a way of life defined by the rules Reviers created.” Will stared at Reviers’ statue. “A system that operates in imagination, yet coincidentally possesses a self-consistent ‘life.’ This is our current world, isn’t it?”
“Heh. You always come up with some interesting conclusions.”
“Looking at it this way, the Death Hall, symbolizing the path of ‘Death,’ was almost inevitably born.” If each ‘Emperor’ of a Dungeon represented a certain ‘understanding’ of the world, ‘desires’ for the world, and the ‘miracles’ expected. Then what would the Death Hall, born with Reviers, who had cycled through thousands of turns, as its Emperor, symbolize?
“The Death Hall is named after death, but in reality, it negates the fact that such a world will eventually die.” So, the Empress of the Death Hall, Reviers, who personally created all of this, the Goddess who redefined the world’s meaning of ‘death’ and ‘survival’… is she also negating death?
