Game Transmigration: Saving the World Again 1000 Years Later Chapter 204 - 204 Outside

204 Outside

A long ti ago, Remides wanted to be like her fellow kinsn and throw herself into the Phoenix Holy Fire to end the torture that the years had brought her.

500 years was the limit most High Elves had set for themselves, and this limit referred to the ti spent on the concept of draining emotions.

Emotion was consumable. It used beautiful mories as a carrier to slowly accumulate in the first half of one’s life before being slowly worn down, depleted, and forgotten in the days to co.

mories with emotions were fresh, but perhaps it took more effort to recall them. To reduce the burden of mories on her soul, those fresh mories began to fade after a few centuries. Finally, only simple logic remained.

!!

She still rembered the first ti she t the Presiding Judge in Ravenwood’s forest. The other party had saved her life from the Demon Pigs, but she couldn’t rember the weather that day or whether the air was filled with a forest’s unique earthy fragrance. She also couldn’t rember if the wind back then had the llow singing of birds that allowed her to lean against the tree and enjoy rare peace after her life was on the line.

She had been saved from the Demon Pigs by a human nad William Kane—this was the only information she still rembered. It was like a docunt written on parchnt and forever sealed in wax.

There were only dry records.

She would, at tis, wonder why she had joined Doomsday Watchers, a very suspicious organization back then because of this.

No matter how beautiful, glamorous, and touching the mories were, they would beco cold logic after ti got to it.

What was more terrifying than forgetting?

Typically speaking, many High Elves chose to participate in the Holy Fire Ritual in advance when they were over 400 years old. They couldn’t stand the increasingly blurry mories and thinning emotions.

As for Remides, it took her about 400 years to completely forget the voices of her forr friends and 800 years to completely forget their looks. Then, she used another 100 years to confirm that her feelings had completely dried up.

Nothing could stir up any emotions in her.

She originally thought so…

However…

“Don’t do anything stupid. I’m already back.”

Remides’s mories of the past seed to co alive again the mont this voice sounded.

She looked at the person who suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Presiding Judge… Your Excellency?”

But it’s impossible…

She hadn’t finished weaving the closed loop on her side. She hadn’t written her will into cyclic ti and made him a phenonon that existed in this world like the rising and setting of the sun. She hadn’t connected William Kane from 1,008 years ago to the concept of the Eighth Holy Spirit, allowing him to return to the mortal world as the Eighth Holy Spirit.

Then, who was this person who looked like William Kane?

“Is it really you?”

She seed a little excited and terrified.

“Who else could it be?” the person replied tersely.

“But I haven’t…” With that said, she hesitated for a mont before asking, “So, is what they said true? You left us only to find a way to ascend as a god?”

Otherwise, there was no way to explain why the other party was here.

The stratification of ti didn’t have a clear boundary like water and oil. It was more like two cups of water mixed. In other words, ti passing through different levels wasn’t going from one place to another, but changing one’s perspective of everything in the world.

This sounded very simple, but if the difficulty of crossing the World Shell to other planes was to extend one’s fingers from the oil layer to the water layer, then changing one’s perspective of ti was probably equivalent to using the naked eye to distinguish which drop of water was poured out of the first cup.

At least technically, this was impossible.

Only by becoming the spokesperson of a Holy Spirit or a Void Sovereign, thereby allowing him to escape the restraints of karmic ti could he appear here.

“They? Who?” William muttered and asked, “You think I’m a god?”

The other party nodded and said, “Otherwise, how did you get here?”

William smiled faintly and said, “You also ca here by your will. Does that make you a god?”

Remides shook her head and said, “My situation is a little special. There’s a shortcut.”

Ritual magic, anthropomorphic worship of the Holy Spirits…

As well as the complete fragnt of creation… the soul.

The Mist Soul was relatively intact among the fragnts of creation.

People who died in it would constantly reappear. Due to this nature, so scholars speculated that it was probably related to the Holy Spirit, the Dead, who symbolized mories. It might be a fragnt that wasn’t complete when the world was created.

As long as one was in the Mist Soul, mortals could stroll through a cycle with themselves as the axis of observation and temporarily beco a part of the cycle. If one ended their life in it, they could completely beco a part of this cycle.

This was why those who died in Ava State’s mist would appear in the world again as Mist Spirits.

The essence of the Mist Spirit wasn’t a strange spiritual body, but a phenonon.

Remides had relied on this to temporarily enter.

William spread his hands and said, “Therefore, like you, I ca here through the Mist Soul.”

He had to admit that this was an extrely wonderful experience.

When William stepped into the thick egg-shaped mist, he could clearly sense that he was still in the throne room. However, what he saw wasn’t limited to his surroundings.

Following the backtracking of ti, William skipped a long period of emptiness and arrived in the afternoon 1,008 years ago.

This was when he left.

Strangely—or rather, it wasn’t strange. This was his limit. William would only see nothingness if he continued. He couldn’t theoretically see the birth of a character like him.

This certainly wasn’t ti travel because it didn’t change the past or the future based on the tracing of cyclic ti.

As for him, he could only see “everything he knew” and “see” everything he knew.

If he wanted to make changes, he had to consu a huge amount of fuel to bend his ti axis into a ring and close it, completely becoming a part of the cycle of ti.

However, when that happened, he would beco a phenonon.

Phenona were phenona precisely because they didn’t need to rely on an individual’s will.

...

Even if millions of bright lamps were lit at the sa ti to illuminate the night, the night wasn’t the day—this wasn’t sothing that could be changed by human strength.

However, from another perspective, this also proved that an individual’s will was a product of karmic ti.

William felt an ensuing headache and didn’t ponder over these questions. He looked at Remides and frowned subtly.

Remides was like a Parkinson’s patient sitting on a roller coaster using an inferior DSLR in her hand to take a human silhouette through a layer of frosted glass. She could barely make out a vague outline.

This was probably a phenonon caused by the overlapping of her countless selves on the tiline.

William lowered his head and looked at his hand.

Normal hands didn’t even have any double images.

If a reader-like third party looked at the two of them from an omniscient point of view, they would see a dazzling phantom looking at a complete person.

William didn’t exist across the entire tiline like the other party. He was still him, independent and unique.

It was like an outsider hung above all systems.

...