"I've seen a blueprint for this river," the amorphous pet said, "but it might as well have been a map. In the fragments of a spaceship that fell on me. I was about the size of a planet at that time. I was thrown as a sentry and a trap, but they didn't restrict me from eating some useless residue. I found a living pilot and used him to check the remaining messages in the spaceship. The content inside was very enlightening. Sex. I guess their strategy is to block the great ones from the outside of the battle line, and rely on the power to destroy all rules to eliminate the great ones. Ether pollution, they use this word, but I have also heard the term high spirit belt . As far as I know, they are two sets of theories, and they don’t know who is right or wrong. During the war, they didn’t pay much attention to correct theories. They just used what they could. The main trunks of these rivers are used to collect different types of Curse...I think we're on a pretty dangerous river."
She nodded. She already knew this, having heard it from the lingering shadow. If you walk to the end of the water, the shadows say, that is the tip of the conch, the starting point of all things. That is where Wei Gaden wants to go and what he wants to do. Of course she had to find Wigaden before he succeeded and destroy it if necessary.
"I heard that there are people traveling with us." Pet said, "I saw a group of pirates from his head... Should I say that? In my opinion, this place is not worth visiting by pirates. There is also a Yongguang tribe. The red one, the horns are very interesting. I have seen the Yongguang tribe a long time ago. They are usually very energetic and always appear on the front lines of the battlefield. Their character does not appear to be very warlike, unlike some of the species I see more commonly. and conquer power. However, they have another set of ideas. They seem to think that it is best for the world to operate according to their values. Of course there are many species that think this way, but they are different. Let others follow their values. Living in an ideal way is of no benefit to oneself. I wonder if this can be considered noble? Or is it more self-righteous than focusing on oneself? "
She doesn't care about this. Everyone wants the world to run in their own order. This is something the old man has already made clear. But the world had never listened to anyone before, it just took care of itself. That spring day where the shadows want to stay. What goes around comes around. The old is gone, the new is coming again.
Is the creator of Vigaden evil? Is your father evil? The old man asked her. He immediately vetoed the matter. Good and evil are common arguments among mortals, but they mean nothing to the king. What he thinks is good, and the world is built based on his goodness. But when two kinds of goodness collide, you find that they are incompatible.
The amorphous pet continued to talk, seemingly content to be a silent listener. But in fact she didn't listen, she was minding her own thoughts. Those small and meaningless lives, the old man said later, always spend all their history to create a huge monster that they cannot control, and finally let everything disappear meaninglessly. But occasionally, on a very small chance basis, they can work wonders. Some giant monsters built fire-breathing iron ships, or made themselves part of the building. They have obtained the sublimation of life form, from being insignificant to another kind of great being. This kind of thing is not common in the first place, but since the world is so big, there are many lives that have gone from meaninglessness to meaning. It's fun to observe them, but unfortunately it doesn't make any difference in the end. Meaningless people are usually more unpredictable. All kinds of interesting things will be born in the history of erecting buildings. But once they are sublimated, their buildings actually become a "king", they become Become noble and pure. But they are no different from natural kings, because they can only recognize the kind of goodness they have become.
The battle is eternal. On the scale of the small, it is the battle between good and evil. On the scale of the great, it is the battle between good and good. It is the sublime that kills the sublime. In this way, no good can win in the end, only death can win in the end. Death comes quietly from the abyss, transforming into various terrifying shapes, sweeping away all stereotyped things, leaving only ashes and seeds - that can be regarded as a kind of good, and it has not failed since ancient times. Live a good life.
"I actually quite like them." The pet said, "The Yongguang tribe always shows their vitality. Of course, they are actually exhausted when they are exhausted, but as long as they are alive, they appear to be very vital and will not let you see their decline. Look. Their death is instant, you blink your eyes, and they turn into stone. In this way, you don't need to lament for them normally. The moss in the volcanic cave cannot do that. Look at that shore It doesn’t matter if they keep blooming, but if they all die, I won’t miss them anymore. But if they don’t bloom and don’t thank them, it makes me feel very worried.”
When she heard what her pet said, she looked toward the shore. The banks of the river were covered with a beautiful and rotten flower. Flower vines crawl in the mud, thinner than burnt willow branches. The flowers are thick and huge, like some kind of fleshy starfish creature. The color of the petals is like exposed bloody muscles. The edges are black due to withering, but the stamens emit a golden light. Like the eyes of a wing-headed man, and like burning stars. Countless flowers of flesh and blood that were on the verge of withering flickered on the shore. They were the Wingheads peering out from the destroyed Holy Kingdom, and the void reflected the light in the flames.
This kind of flower never appeared in the Styx story that the old man told her. She thought about it again and again, and it seemed to her that it looked like Slambo's melted flesh. That battle was very dangerous. Before leaving her hometown, it was the second most dangerous battle. She could not count many such dangerous moments in her life. Of course, there are many dangers in the void floating in an iron ship, and they are more bizarre, violent, and unpredictable than those in the world, but she is not afraid of this. When she left her hometown, the old man asked her what she wanted to choose: hands, feet, eyes, or bones?
bone. She makes a choice. She is the incarnation of wind, so why does she have bones and a body? She had never thought about this before meeting the old man. Where did her transformed flesh and blood body, her long black hair, and slender limbs come from? She didn't think about it either. Flesh and bones can grow back after being lost, and she always makes them grow into a fixed shape.
But this time is different. The old man told her that things left in her hometown will not grow back because it is ultimately a sacrifice. Even so, she chose bones. Wind and fog have invisible hands, touching the bodies of all things and tearing off fallen leaves and dead branches, but they don't need bones.
So the old man took away her bones. Located below her head, between her hands and feet, it supports her spine. But he found a burnt willow tree from the ruins of Mulun'en. She watched him water the willow tree with his own blood, and endless shadows grew in the wood. In the same way, the old man poured blood on the diamond filled with the light of creation, making it become her shadow. He used a knife to carve the willow wood with skill and skill, turning the blood-soaked wood into a lumpy bone pillar, which he inserted under the skin along the back of her neck. That's when she felt pain for the first time, from the torn flesh and blood of the wooden stake, from the wood squeezed by the flesh and blood, the two pains finally merged into one, and the willow wood became her bones.
It will protect you from death. said the old man. The shadow clinging to the wood will protect her, allowing her to escape into dreams under the threat of death. Nothing that had been promised to the old man could harm the wood. As for the things that were not promised to the old man, if the shadow cannot be harmed, it is equally difficult to eliminate her.
"Oh." The pet exclaimed softly in her ear, "What is that?"
The river water was boiling gurglingly, and the poisonous and hot steam rose like yellow mist. The lotus boat was only supported by the protection of the shadow. At the end of the cursed river, like a sea of stars falling vertically, the third curtain is filled with flexible light spots like small fish.
It is the veil of death, the veil of the gods. The old man told it like this. In order to prevent the living from escaping to the kingdom of death, when loneliness and terror are not enough to dissuade them, the third curtain appears - that is the belief in meaning. The living believe that there must be something behind the curtain, but they are unable to see the true nature of that thing clearly, which can hinder them from rushing towards death.
The old man used Wei Gaden as an example. He said that the observer is the veil of the Creator: when people see the power of the observer, they know that the Creator does exist and has supreme power; but people can only see the observer, and they will never guess the creator. What is the Lord’s will and what stringent expectations does he have for them?
veil. veil. Did she think she was the king's veil? Gently covering up the old father, what remains is the great king who commands the Valkyrie to run in the wind. The ageless king behind the veil! But that night the Valkyrie stopped, and it was Bam who entered the Hall of Eternity.
The lotus leaves floated to the final curtain. The pet rolled uncomfortably and consciously left her ear. The whole world was wailing in the fire, only the dull boatman was still sleeping soundly, feeling extremely comfortable. He probably wanted to sleep until the end of the universe, and she didn't intend to let the screams of mortals disturb her.
The veil is raised. There were no more mountains behind it. Instead, she saw white columns on both sides, each towering into the clouds. Statues of the gods stood on both sides, all as huge as Slambor, so huge that it was simply uncanny. Their expressionless faces looked down at the river, watching the lotus boats as insignificant as duckweeds pass by.
The river is filled with mist, and there is no trace of water flow, as if it is a river flowing with mist. The throne carved from the mountain peaks flows over the fog, and is carried by the fog river to an unknown distance. The giant in red robes placed on the bluestone throne was furiously reaching towards the shore, trying to grab anything that could fix him. His body was as huge as the throne and blocked the river tightly, but his wildly waving arms didn't catch anything. It neither held him in place nor took anything else away. The throne became an isolated island in the river, slowly receding away, with only the light lotus boat gliding on the foggy river, crawling closer like a black-legged spider.
The king on the throne stretched out his hand to grab the lotus leaf, and the sound was like a thousand golden bells vibrating at the same time.
"Veroo!" roared the thunderous voice.
The snoring boatman twitched, then turned over towards Lian Xin, hiding his face and ears in his arms. The lotus leaf fell over because of this, and half of it was inserted diagonally into the fog, and was immediately pulled back to its original position by the shadow at the bottom of the leaf. At this moment she stood up quietly, holding a shadow-like spear in her hand, the tip of the spear touching the leaf. Her shadow flowed from the leaves into the tip of the spear, gathering into a black diamond with a dark red glow. She stood there, her hair like black gauze long and hanging down, like the priestess who had been swallowed into the belly of the god.
"Father," she said. The tip of the gun flashed with blood.
