There must be things other than the Sacred Spear that Ye Yi can penetrate the world’s barrier.
"At that ti..."
"Shiayar, I..."
The Golden Elf’s softly whispered words remained unfinished.
At this mont, everything had yet to be achieved, and she could do nothing.
No matter the grand promises made, they were nothing but aningless empty boasts.
She slowly turned around, casting her gaze behind her, into the Black Tower that Shiayar had created with his will, atop the illusory bookshelves.
Then, Hathaway’s gaze gradually beca indifferent, beca apathetic.
She set aside all those belonging to a woman’s fantasy, confusion, and ignorance—
Including the joy and excitent of hearing the last words of Shiayar, words that were almost akin to a confession: "the one she fancies also likes her back."
For she knew, the current her had no ti to be burdened by these emotions.
If, at the end of it all, Shiayar could not return smoothly from the depths of the Abyss—
Then all her joy and surges of emotion at this mont would ultimately transform into unending despair.
And Hathaway did not wish to experience that despair.
She did not want to be the vase princess in the wandering poet’s story, silently gazing up at the night sky from the safety of the rear, praying for the brave hero on an expedition to return safely.
She wanted to beco a variable that could influence that final outco, no matter how insignificant her impact might be.
So, at this mont, the Golden Elf...did not have ti to reminisce, to lant, or to be saddened by the passage of ti.
She concentrated her mind.
Cald the ripples of longing.
Not just in thought, but even her emotions were sealed, as if frozen into ice.
Then, the Golden Elf, step by step, walked into the Black Tower, into that illusory and boundless Great Library.
This was the last gift Shiayar left for her.
Containing all the knowledge Shiayar knew, not just the countless spell prirs accumulated over countless years in the fields of magic and arcane arts, but also all the forbidden and occult knowledge in the Great Library.
If she were to grow stronger in a short ti, break through that legendary boundary, even escape the aftermath left by the Elf King in her elven bloodline.
Or even find thods other than the Sacred Spear to shake the world’s barrier and enter the Abyss.
Then—
This library would be Hathaway’s only chance.
Of course, this process would be very long.
Away from the bustling world, having lost all intelligent beings with whom she could communicate, she would be guarding a pile of books in the Great Library, with loneliness as a companion.
"Truly capricious indeed—"
"I."
The Golden Elf uttered a silent whisper.
If it were soone else, they might soon lose themselves to loneliness, driven mad to the point of ntal breakdown, unable to continue.
But for Hathaway, this was just the most plain and unadorned routine in her nearly thousand-year life.
She had long grown accustod to solitude, accustod to companionship with loneliness.
However, all of this changed a year ago.
A human boy nad Shiayar briefly illuminated her life.
Brought light to the Golden Elf’s side, allowing her to glimpse that bright world and experience the fireworks of humanity she had never felt before.
"Once eyes have glimpsed the light, can they never again adapt to the darkness..."
She gently stretched out her hand.
As if in a final reluctance, she lightly touched—
The human boy’s face on that frozen magial farsight water screen.
The next mont, the water screen shattered, the magic of farsight was disrupted.
And without turning back, the Golden Elf walked deeper into the Great Library.
...
The river of ti is the fairest thing in this world.
It flows perpetually, never pausing for anyone or anything.
For Hathaway, the upheaval on the Lost Island changed her entire life.
However, for the Western Continent, for the vast and boundless Multiverse—
That small disturbance at the edge of the Endless Ocean Domain was nothing but an insignificant ripple.
Due to the involvent of the Sacred Spear, even remnants of the creator from the Glorious Era—
A few days after the upheaval erupted, mythological creatures could frequently be seen striding under the radiance of the human world above the Endless Ocean Domain.
No one knew their purpose.
Perhaps they still held loyalty to that Glorious Era, to the creator of that era, the master of the Throne of Heaven.
Or perhaps, they were simply coveting the Authority of the Sacred Spear and that lingering Divinity.
But ultimately, no matter what intentions the mythological creatures harbored when descending upon the Endless Ocean Domain, they all left empty-handed.
Without the assistance of the Sacred Spear, even the True God could only gape at that dark vortex atop the Endless Ocean Domain, the gateway to the Abyss.
Anyone would know that great mystery, great opportunity lay within it, yet it remained eternally inaccessible.
And they never discovered Hathaway, the last remnant of the Lost Island on the Main Material Plane.
Before these mythological creatures descended, Hathaway had already taken that illusory Black Tower and used Void Magic to relocate to the Astral Realm and Dinsional Void.
Strangely enough.
In Shiayar’s hopes, Hathaway, having shed the curse of her bloodline and left the Lost Island, should have been able to bathe in sunlight, to truly experience the beauty of the world.
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