As the deluge of mories poured into her mind, Evé’s senses underwent a sudden shift, and everything around her began to change.
The players were no longer there.
The crumbling ruins of the city had also vanished.
Even the grotesque local inhabitants that transford into monsters and were battling the players were nowhere to be seen.
The clamor of the battlefield—the shouts and clashes of combat, the crackle of flas, and the rumble of collapsing structures—all diminished as if subrged underwater, growing quieter and quieter until it vanished completely.
Before her very eyes, the world itself seed to suddenly dissolve akin to a drop of ink spreading in water.
When she looked around again, Evé realized she was in a completely unfamiliar space.
It was an ancient, crumbling place, exuding an overwhelming sense of desolation and eerie surrealness, as though it’s illusory.
In this strange space, a long, narrow passage stretched out before her.
The passage was riddled with cracks, seemingly on the verge of collapse, yet still sohow held together by so mysterious force that twisted it into a precarious balance, enabling its continued existence.
Alas now, that delicate balance appeared to be unraveling.
The shattered passage was slowly disintegrating, breaking apart bit by bit.
Along its length, a flickering, phantom-like doors erged from the wreckage every once in a while.
Evé turned her eyes slightly and looked at the door closest to her.
It was slightly ajar, and through the gap, she could clearly see the other side of it.
Unlike the crumbling passage, what lay beyond seed to be intact, like a separate, isolated space.
The sky was vast and clear, dotted with gentle clouds.
Nurous verdant trees provided shade, whilst their canopies sway softly along with the breeze.
On the grassy ground beneath the trees, a cheerful half-elf boy darted about, laughing as he played.
The boy had stunning silver hair and striking violet-red eyes.
In that instant, as Evé laid eyes upon him, a realization struck her:
He was Ouros!
The halfling Ouros, in his childhood.
The boy looks utterly endearing.
His laughter seed so innocent and pure, like the joyous song of a small angel.
He played happily along with the other full-blooded and half-elven children, their laughter filling the air as they played amongst themselves within the forest.
As these children was playing at so corner of the forest, Evé could still vaguely discern the magnificent and prosperous city in the distance…
The scene stirred sothing within her heart—a faint familiarity with the cityscape and the unique energy resonating from it.
“This city seems to be… Florence?”
“Could this be Ouros’ ntal world?”
Although these rhetorical questions were spoken softly to herself, Evé was nearly certain of the answer.
Every soul-bearing living being had a distinct ntal world, wherein a vast sea of mories held the very essence of their existence.
When one being devours another’s mories, there is a chance they might enter the other person’s ntal world.
It is a strange and wondrous phenonon.
By entering another’s ntal world, one can swiftly absorb their mories, devour their soul, and gain insight into the entirety of their life.
Undoubtedly, Evé had now entered Ouros’ ntal world.
The mont he recognized her, Ouros had imdiately ceased all resistance.
He opened his own ntal world entirely, embracing Eve’s power and offering up everything he had to her without reservation.
Now, after understanding the situation, Evé also realized what the crumbling passageway and the phantom doors represented.
The forr represented the ntal world of Ouros.
As for the latter, these were the doors leading to the rooms containing the unforgettable mories he had experienced throughout his life!
By exploring these fragnts of the other person’s mories, Evé could quickly unravel the story of Ouros’ life.
Of course, being an outsider, she can leave this ntal world easily at any given ti.
But Evé had no intention of leaving.
For this ntal world was already collapsing.
Its ti was clearly running out and was about to end soon.
If she were to leave now, she might never have the chance to see Ouros’ mories, since once a ntal world fully collapses, it only ans one thing:
Its owner has already perished.
—No.
To be more accurate, the person known as ‘Ouros’ had already perished a long ti ago.
From his ntal world’s current state, the passageway which symbolizes it had long since collapsed.
Even the surrounding space was riddled with fractures.
This entire ntal world felt as though it had shattered once before, with countless mory fragnts now forcibly pieced back together.
Indeed, it was forcibly held together by so ‘force.’
This force seed like a powerful, unyielding obsession that by so miracle, had sohow managed to stitched the broken ntal world into a semblance of cohesion, thereby preserving it against all odds.
After realizing this, Evé froze montarily, her expression shifting into a slightly stunned look.
This ant that the one who had battled the players and had fought her, was actually not the living demigod Ouros, but the lingering obsession he left behind after his death!
When this truth dawned upon her, the sense of triumph that she felt after defeating the other party and achieving her goal had evaporated instantly.
Because she suddenly felt that she seed to have made a mistake…
Evé abruptly lifted her gaze, fixing her eyes upon the remaining phantom doors scattered along the collapsing passageway.
Her expression suddenly beca a little complicated.
Drawing a deep breath, she stepped forward and ventured deeper into the passageway.
The collapse of Ouros’ ntal world continued on, but Evé no longer paid it any attention.
Her focus now rested solely upon the remaining doors lining up the passageway.
She could not stop this world from collapsing.
And the only thing she could do now was explore the remaining fragnts of mories housed within each door before they vanished altogether.
As she walked forward, one by one, the mories of Ouros unfolded before her eyes.
It was the life story of a half-elven demigod’s journey of growth.
He had loved nature, cherished life, and been a devout follower of the World Tree.
His dream, since childhood, had always been clear:
To beco a priest blessed by the Goddess of Nature—a genuine Godwarden of her.
From the reckless naivety of his youth to the steadiness of maturity in his later life, and from his weak and insignificant beginnings to becoming a figure of imnse strength.
Over the course of a thousand years, Ouros had lived many lives:
A rcenary.
A bounty hunter.
A wandering rchant.
Even a traveling bard.
His footsteps could be found across the entire realm of Seigües.
Along his journey, Ouros also encountered countless races—each with their unique customs, beliefs, and ways of life—and forged innurable friendships as well.
He witnessed the brutality of war firsthand, seeing cities burn, families torn apart, and lives lost in the na of power and vengeance. Yet, he also witnessed tis of peace and prosperity, when the land healed, and hope flourished anew.
He saw the rise of humanity and the fall of elven cities.
Ouros was born during the pinnacle of elven civilization.
In that era, the footsteps of elves and half-elves extended to every corner of the world, and wherever they went, they were respected by all sentient races.
Yet, the thousand years he lived through marked the shift of elven civilization from its peak into its gradual decline.
Although the elves still remained the most powerful race, and the pinnacle of civilization, and although other species continued to show them reverence…
The quiet rise of humans and demi-humans was already reshaping the world.
He watched as human champions erged, one after another.
He heard of deities worshipped by humans gaining more and more believers and power.
He watched as settlent after settlent of elves were slowly being overtaken by human forces.
He witnessed new kingdoms of mankind sprouting across the continent, one after another.
In those monts, he sensed the growing ambitions and desires of other races.
He felt the surging undercurrents rippling across the land.
Alas, the elves remained oblivious to all of it.
In their hubris, the Elvenkind still celebrated the greatness of their civilization and sang praises of their majestic kingdoms.
They indeed loved peace, and they were the kind and most gentle amongst all races.
But at their core, the elves also bore an ingrained flaw—an over inflated pride that had gradually turned into blind arrogance.
And this very arrogance of theirs had unknowingly beco the harbinger of their own ruination.
In that mont, Ouros finally understood:
The elves, stuck with their old-fashioned ways…had failed to adapt to the rapidly changing world around them.
— 454 —
【 OUROSTHE HALF-ELF 】
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