Madam Hua was a member of the Elysium Guild, an organization with branches extending far beyond the Maiden’s domain. Despite her rank, she would still be held accountable for these actions if they were exposed.
The elders knew the consequences. If this issue reached their leaders, execution would be likely, a move to placate the zealots in power.
“I trust you all understand the repercussions if even a hint of today’s events reaches the outside world,” Feng Zhiming stated.
The group nodded, acknowledging the gravity of his words.
“If I ever need anything, absolutely anything, from any of you, you will comply.”
Again, they nodded in agreement.
Feng Zhiming motioned for Orion to step forward.
Orion glanced at Grand Elder Claris, who gave him a subtle nod to proceed.
“You’re quite impressive, surviving up to this point. Take this,” Feng Zhiming said as a sword slowly levitated from the crater, landing in Orion’s hands.
Orion stood before Feng Zhiming, gripping a weapon once wielded by a Holy Knight. The weight of its history settled on his shoulders.
Before Orion could utter a word, Feng Zhiming dismissed them with a mere glance.
Kura waved her hand, and in an instant, everyone was expelled from the Heart.
…
The elders and the remaining survivors found themselves standing in the Wildlands, the harsh landscape stretching endlessly before them.
“He really let us go,” Krimin muttered in disbelief, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.
“There must be a reason for this,” Daiyu replied, her voice thoughtful, eyes narrowed in contemplation.
The immense entrance that once led to the Heart had vanished entirely, leaving behind only a barren wasteland.
“Feng Zhiming, I won’t make such a mistake again!” she whispered, her voice laced with venomous resolve. A dark, chilling intent radiated from her, seeping into the air.
Her fingers dug into her palms, drawing blood that dripped onto the ground, staining the earth a red that seemed to have a hue of a light blue in the mix.
…
Feng Zhiming glanced at Anissa and smiled.
“What’s with the long face? Don’t tell me you wanted that sword,” he teased.
She shook her head, her expression resolute.
“I need no other weapon. I am enough,” she replied confidently.
“I see,” Feng Zhiming nodded, recognizing her resolve. She had taken another step forward on her path.
It was time for the main event, the very reason he had come to this place.
He turned his gaze to Kura.
“Is it about time?” he asked.
With a wave of her hand, Kura transported them to a dark, torch-lit chamber. They found themselves inside a cave deep within the Heart, where a carefully crafted staircase led to an ominous altar.
The altar was constructed from the bones of various species, adorned with the brains of those creatures, a grotesque yet meticulously designed display.
“What a unique... sense of decor,” Feng Zhiming remarked, his eyes scanning the eerie surroundings.
“Not my taste, to be honest,” Kura replied, her tone casual as she made her way toward the altar. Feng Zhiming followed, his curiosity piqued.
“Stop your subordinate here, she won’t be able to handle what’s coming next,” Kura advised, continuing her ascent.
Feng Zhiming wasn’t one to obey orders without question, but he understood the strangeness of the situation. He signaled for Anissa to stay behind. She complied silently, her expression resolute.
At the peak of the altar, Kura sat down and gestured for Feng Zhiming to do the same.
“You’ll need to drink blood if you want to have a proper conversation,” Kura stated, laying out the terms.
Feng Zhiming hesitated, but his ambition outweighed his reluctance. He could do this much for the sake of his goals.
Without warning, Kura leaned in close and kissed him. The unexpectedness of the gesture surprised Feng Zhiming, but he didn’t resist. Despite her pallor and the black veins tracing her skin, a Dao Lord’s beauty remained undeniably ethereal.
As their lips met, blood began to seep from Kura’s tongue, sliding down Feng Zhiming’s throat. The metallic taste was sharp, but he forced himself to endure it.
When the kiss ended, Kura pulled back, releasing him from the embrace. She stepped away and began to initiate a prayer, her voice low and resonant in the dimly lit cave.
“May the deceivers writhe and shatter.”
“May the false ones fade and wither.”
“My great bestower Veridatas, of Veracity and of Truth.”
“Grant an audience to the one you have chosen.”
As Kura’s words echoed through the chamber, the brains lining the altar exploded into a dark, viscous liquid.
Feng Zhiming looked up, and in an instant, everything vanished, Kura, Anissa, the altar, all gone. He was now floating in an endless void, enveloped by an unnerving presence.
In the face of this overwhelming existence, Feng Zhiming felt incredibly small, insignificant, as though his very being was a mere speck in the vastness of the universe.
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A deep, existential dread crept into Feng Zhiming’s heart.
“Well, here I am. Speak what you desire,” he managed to say, his words echoing in the void.
An ancient voice, filled with immense power, replied.
“Feng Zhiming, Crow from unknown parentage, do you think it is only you who has been cursed?”
He remained silent, uncertain of the voice’s meaning.
“Cursed with morbid curiosity, with yearnings no unborn should possess. The curse of restlessness, fatigue, and an endless chase,” the voice continued, each word heavy with an enigmatic weight.
“Don’t distract me with your vague statements. Make yourself clear,” Feng Zhiming demanded, irritation creeping into his tone at the lack of direct meaning.
“Trapped by the ramblings of a scholar, by the embers that consumed the only one who ever loved you. Enraptured by an unachievable goal. There have been many before you who sought the very same being you do now, even I was among them. And yet the cruelty of time has led us all to stagnate, enamoured by distraction.”
Feng Zhiming, growing weary of the cryptic words, decided to take control of the conversation. “Since you insist on continuing this useless dialogue, I’ll be the first to speak something of substance. Do you know God? Does God exist?”
“God? What is God? To you, the unborn, any resident of the realm of sovereigns could be a god. Any object of worship could be god, the Maiden could be god, and the true immortals could be gods. Are you not considered gods by the mortals in your realm?”
Feng Zhiming’s frustration grew with each word.
“Don’t try to sidestep my question. You know exactly what I mean. Or are you implying that you would proclaim yourself a god?”
“I do not claim to be a god. Unlike the Maiden, I have never demanded worship or sacrifice. It is by the greed of the unborn that I am invited into your realm. By your greed, I am worshiped, and by our mutual greed, I am called upon now.”
The voice continued, more solemn now. “To answer your question, no, I do not know God. I know not of an all-powerful, all-knowing being that is simultaneously eternal. Though there are those beyond me who may. Yet I understand your motivations. Life is a curious thing, you live, and for what? Some seek eternity, others power. You wish to find the one who granted you life, to seek your purpose. A most noble ambition.”
Feng Zhiming sighed at the response, unsurprised by the answer.
“Why don’t you tell me about the truth, then? That seems to be your domain. Why am I here? What is the Assembly? The Administrator?”
“The Administrator is a great deceiver,” the voice replied, its tone darkening. “He has summoned you all to the realm of Primus for selfish reasons and has fed you lies. As the Scholar of Black explained, you each carry within you a fragment of a scattered Hegemony, a piece of a throne that is eternally coveted.”
“A throne? The Throne Eternal? Like the one mentioned in the book about the Heavenly Demon?”
“Indeed. He seeks the death of you all, so that a single possessor of the hundred pieces may emerge, a possessor he plans to consume to further his own growth and claim the Throne Eternal. The Gu demon is merely a pawn, fattened for slaughter.”
“Why not simply kill us all, then?” Feng Zhiming asked, his mind racing.
“The heavens, or more precisely, the Dao, are mysterious and enforce rules that none may transgress. The Administrator is not permitted to kill you directly. To circumvent this restriction, he devised this twisted game.”
Feng Zhiming fell into deep thought before responding.
“I’ve killed another participant, yet I didn’t feel any different. Why?”
“The one you slayed was not a true Caelum Juravi, he was a decoy,” the voice explained. “No genuine Caelum Juravi would be that weak. Just as the Assembly exists for demonic cultivators, it also exists for the righteous, the unorthodox, and for any conceivable form of life in Primus, perhaps even in the realm of sovereigns.”
A great realization dawned on Feng Zhiming. “I had narrowed my views to only demonic cultivators, yet it seems I was deceived,” he thought.
“When the possessor of the hundred pieces emerges, they will have to defend their claim to the Throne. Anyone who has ascended to the realm of True Demon, Exalted Immortal, Abyssal Monarch, Beast Emperor, and a few others will be allowed to challenge that individual a battle to wrest away the throne. That’s what the Administrator is orchestrating.”
Feng Zhiming nodded as he processed the information, his mind racing with possibilities. Then, he asked the most crucial question.
“And what would you have me do?”
The voice replied with a tone of unmistakable sincerity.
“To grow. I would have you be the one to end the cycles. To sit upon the Throne and end this lunacy. To become a Divinity beyond all that exists now.”
The weight of the voice’s words was staggering, almost beyond belief.
“You would have me sit upon the Throne?” Feng Zhiming questioned, skepticism creeping into his voice. “That seems unlikely. How do I know you’re not like the Administrator, waiting for me to claim the Throne only to take it for yourself?”
“I understand your skepticism,” the voice responded, a hint of melancholy in its tone. “There was a time when I, too, longed for power. But after witnessing countless cycles, I have come to a different understanding. Now, I only wish for knowledge, for truth, for veracity. I seek that which remains unsaid, untold. Even now, I feel as if I have been made to forget what I should remember, a travesty. And know this, only those who have ever been Caelum Juravi may sit upon the Throne, as mandated by the Dao. Those who seek the Throne harbour ambitions of conquest, domination, and conformity beyond comprehension. They would subvert truths and destroy veracity. Such ambitions are a stain on my very existence.”
The voice paused, then continued, “You do not seem to be such a person. Your ambition is pure, you seek the death of all those who claim themselves as gods and the discovery of the One true god. If you dared to seize the Throne, there may be hope for your ambition.”
Feng Zhiming was young, intelligent, and a man of conviction. Yet even he could not help but feel his heart sway at the prospect of wielding such power.
“We are very similar,” the voice continued. “You speak of fear and of faith. I understand what you mean. Though I cannot fully explain it, I can see deep into your soul. The saying ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely’ does not apply to you. You carry the fate of a fallen star, of a life that has passed, the vestiges of a destined slave who broke free from its chains.”
“A slave?” Feng Zhiming echoed, his curiosity piqued.
The voice hesitated. “I cannot say more than I have. It exceeds even my comprehension. It is like seeing the cover of a book, I cannot open it, and thus, I cannot reveal any more.”
Feng Zhiming recalled a line from the book of the Heavenly Demon. It, too, spoke of a destined slave of change.
“And if I refuse?” he asked, testing the limits of his options.
“You may reject it, it is within your rights. However, know this, once you achieve Spiritual Awakening, you will die, burst into flames as you did in your dreams, and your shard of the Throne will be embedded in the Caelum Juravi closest to you.”
The words resonated deeply with Feng Zhiming. He had long felt a sense of foreboding whenever the idea of Spiritual Awakening crossed his mind.
“I have the means to prevent that death,” the voice continued, “allowing you to achieve spiritual awakening without meeting your demise. Your existence is special, the Caelum Juravi are uniquely privileged beings, unfettered by the machinations of those above. Upon your death, you would enter the cycle of reincarnation, and there is no telling if the chains of fate will bind you in your next life.”
Feng Zhiming mulled over the words, weighing the benefits and the risks. He couldn't fully trust the being, yet something about its warnings regarding Spiritual Awakening felt undeniably accurate.
He knew his ambition was lofty, requiring strength far beyond what he currently possessed. If he died, there was no guarantee he would ever walk that path again.
“To clarify, I would not be subservient to you,” Feng Zhiming stated, seeking assurance.
“Indeed,” the voice replied. “All I require is the truth. Once you have gained the Throne, I would ask that of you truth that has been withheld from me, history erased by those who ruled before. There is a great deception which has been blotted out from my memory. I only seek to be complete once more.”
Feng Zhiming remained silent for a few moments, reflecting. He had seen the library, the books, and the nature of this existence. It all seemed to align with the being’s words, resonating with a truth he couldn’t quite deny.
“Then let it be known,” Feng Zhiming declared, his voice resolute. “I, Feng Zhiming, upon gaining the Throne Eternal, shall relinquish all the truth I uncover, or may the Heavenly Dao strike me down where I stand.”
“And I, Veridatas, one of Truth and Veracity, shall abstain from lusting after the Throne, or may the Heavenly Dao shatter me completely.”
The pact was sealed. Feng Zhiming felt a force tear into his heart, carving an inscription deep within his soul.
“The oath between the Demon who seeks the Creator and the Abyssal Monarch of Truth and Veracity.”
This agreement marked the true beginning of Feng Zhiming’s path. A promise to have his questions answered and to hold the false ones accountable.