"Crash—"
The glass shattered.
Though no pane of frosted glass physically existed in this void to separate man from god, in this mont, Cheng Shi distinctly felt the barrier — the one that had long stood between them, the one that today had severely distorted both their images — break apart.
Those star-filled eyes appeared before him for the first ti with such "authenticity" — vivid, lifelike, rich with "flesh and blood," every detail visible.
For one brief instant, Cheng Shi even felt that He was no longer a lofty, unreachable "Him" — but rather a forerunner, walking the very sa road, simply having set out much further ahead.
So it wasn't just him who was afraid. He was even more terrified!
Cheng Shi's conjecture was right: Deceit truly wasn't of the "approach faction." And the reason He chose not to draw closer was this fear.
The fear called "kindness without reason."
But there was still sothing Cheng Shi couldn't figure out. The Origin wasn't like the other gods. He had never appeared, never manipulated the workings of the universe. For the life in this universe, He was an existence that "didn't exist" — with negligible influence. So what exactly was Deceit afraid of?
Afraid that His authority didn't truly belong to Him?
That was certainly possible. Death had once said that the Convention was a compact signed by the gods specifically to protect all divine authorities from being lost.
At the ti, Cheng Shi hadn't thought much of it. But now, on reflection: below the gods, who could possibly cause divine authority to be lost?
So the Convention's original purpose was perhaps never aid at beings beneath the gods. Since it wasn't aid downward, it could only target... gods and above!
Beyond diating disputes among the gods, the Convention was also likely a safeguard against *Him!
But weren't there many gods in the "approach faction"? How could They agree to sign a Convention guarding against Him?
Evidently, the factors behind the Convention's creation were far more complex than Cheng Shi had previously imagined.
Beyond the Fun God's fear concerning authority, Cheng Shi harbored another theory: He was also afraid of the end of Void's era!
But then again — the current era already belonged to Void. As rulers of this age, Deceit should have felt far more secure than any other god.
Aph Ros had once said that after the Void era there would inevitably be another. If that was true — if even a Herald could weather the transition — a true god shouldn't feel fear over this.
So there must be so other reason he didn't understand yet. And that reason likely pointed directly to the core of the Fun God's terror!
This wasn't blind guessing. It was a deduction Cheng Shi drew from the surface difference between Deceit's and Fate's views on faith fusion.
As he'd noted before: Fate championed the predetermined — clearly wanting to witness the end of the Void era. Since Deceit's opinion opposed His, that ant He didn't want to experience the era's conclusion.
Cheng Shi badly wanted to ask outright what the end of the Void era would entail, but he could tell that his current self probably didn't have the right to learn more.
That the Fun God had explained this much was already beyond imagination. That He'd forced Cheng Shi to ask that blasphemous question already demonstrated His attitude.
Yes — forced.
The one who truly broke the ice wasn't Cheng Shi. It was the Fun God Himself.
When He used that silence to corner Cheng Shi into the standoff, He'd already broken the ice. Because this exceptionally clever pair — man and god alike — both knew that when the impasse arrived, Cheng Shi would inevitably find a way to shatter it. And that ant He'd long been prepared to "explain" sothing to Cheng Shi.
It was only that Cheng Shi, overwheld by terror in the mont, hadn't seen through it. But once the explanation landed and he'd steadied himself, the sharp mind caught up instantly.
He'd seen through Cheng Shi's suspicion all along. And He'd used this silent drama to deliver the answer Cheng Shi wanted.
But Deceit was the surface of Void — the aggregate of all lies. Could His explanation truly be trusted?
Cheng Shi wasn't entirely certain. But at the very least, when it ca to breaking the standoff, His actions and His stated position aligned.
A liar's intuition told him that the Fun God was worth trusting. But whether that intuition worked on a god...
'Sigh. Nothing to do but take it one step at a ti.'
Cheng Shi let out a long exhale.
Today's harvest was enormous. He'd received countless revelations too staggering for words. But the most important thing was untying the knot mory had personally tied — restoring his courage to draw closer to Void... no, closer to Deceit.
At least, until he understood his other Benefactor's true will, he couldn't be certain whether Fate was actually... ahem.
But on a positive note, Deceit had seed sincere enough today. He didn't appear to be harming him. At most, He was using him.
"Using" here wasn't pejorative — rely a player moving pieces across the board with a view of the whole ga. A piece couldn't resist and could only endure. But if one day, the piece also beca a player...
Then two players walking the sa road might very well cooperate — and make this great ga of the universe a little more spectacular.
Cheng Shi could see it: his Benefactor was working toward exactly that. Because it seed He hadn't found a single "god" among the other fifteen thrones willing to play alongside Him.
And as for today's audience — the one that untangled his heart — he had mory to thank.
Had the opposing side not planted that inner demon, causing Deceit's "plan" to veer off course, it might have taken far longer before Cheng Shi could have learned any of this.
Of course, perhaps thanks were also due to Death. It may have been His gift of that forcibly bonded "complete" divinity that gave Cheng Shi the chance to "temporarily take a seat at the table."
Cheng Shi thought long and deeply. Only after he'd fully shaken free of the Origin's influence did he raise his head with a solemn expression and look into those joyful eyes.
In this mont, no more words were needed. A disheartened clown had returned, smiling once more, to the stage where he belonged.
He gazed at those eyes. His lips moved for a mont. As though he'd made so great resolution, he spoke with utter sincerity:
"What should I do?"
Those eyes rolled once and let out a snicker:
"A clown truly is a clown. Your ability to make people laugh is far stronger than your confidence."
"..."
Hearing this, every ounce of resolve Cheng Shi had just mustered instantly dispersed.
Seeing this, those eyes burst into hearty laughter once more:
"You overestimate yourself. There's nothing you can do.
Your role is player. So — just be an honest liar."
'Player... role...?'
Cheng Shi heard this and blinked. Then he raised an eyebrow — as though he understood.
...
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