"...Hmm?"
Polina was astonished.
"That was a Blockade Body that fell from the cosmos. After I broke it, it whispered, ’How wonderful it would have been to see the moon of my holand.’"
The Blacksmith said offhandedly:
"I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to ask, ’What is the moon?’"
"She imdiately widened her eyes, looked at , smiled gently, and patiently began to describe the moon:"
"It is a satellite that orbits a planet, reflecting the sun’s light at night. Specifically, it serves no real purpose, but it gives the planet its seasons, polar days and nights, Antarctica and the North Pole with their glaciers, and it controls the tides..."
"Actually, the moon doesn’t have any particular use, but people can’t help but attribute to it love, longing, purity, Magic Nature, madness, and all sorts of other ssy things."
"What a ridiculous thing. It’s just a satellite. Dragon Satellite manages just fine without a moon. It’s truly absurd, but..."
The Blacksmith fell silent for a mont, looked up at the purple canopy of the sky, clenched his fist, and said bewilderedly:
"I told her, ’That sounds nice.’"
"She said, ’Great, then when you have ti, go and see the moon for , will you?’"
"Then she died, her neck twisted, her blood turned into Alige, which I injected into my body to heal my injuries. Just like that, unremarkably, she died."
The Blacksmith gazed at the sky and said:
"I don’t know why, but of the dozens, if not a hundred Blockade Bodies that have died by my hand, I only rember that girl—I can’t even recall what she looked like, or her na."
"Only her ntion of the moon."
"To this day, I still can’t forget it."
Polina looked at him, and her heart instantly beca clear.
She walked up to him, stood face to face with the Blacksmith, and said earnestly:
"Because you have never seen the moon with your own eyes."
"...I rember that thing in my mory."
"It’s not the sa." Polina said with a smile, "Uncle Blacksmith has learned quite a lot, but you’ve denied their anings one by one. Although you seem very empty and pessimistic about everything—this all is founded on a deep understanding of them."
"In other words—"
The Blacksmith lowered his head to look at Polina as she stated with conviction:
"Uncle Blacksmith, you never deny the significance of things you don’t understand."
"I..."
"There’s nothing to be ashad of. Uncle, your pain cos from knowing too much too deeply, and this era has yet to birth an existence that could explain your thoughts and bring you solace and support."
Polina chuckled:
"To put it simply: You’re too smart, and the world hasn’t caught up with you."
Seeing the Blacksmith open his mouth to deny himself, Polina imdiately waved her hand:
"I know what you’re thinking. You believe it’s impossible, but such things always happen in the world: A Prophet ahead of their ti, doing the deeds of civilization’s progress in an era that lags behind."
The evening breeze swept over Valley Peak Village; from a distance, the village looked bright and clear.
"The root of your pain is mostly due to your own lack of capacity, combined with seeing too far ahead. If you take it easier on yourself and try to see yourself as a person of the present, I think the world might not be perfect, but it will certainly be a lot less wretched than before."
The wind twirled Polina’s golden hair as she blood quietly like a rose:
"You don’t have to attribute all the world’s Suffering to your own inadequacies."
She smiled faintly:
"After all, Uncle, you’re just a Blacksmith."
"You are kind and simple, burdened with disasters you shouldn’t have to bear; but it’s alright. The true Suffering should be borne by families of distinction like ours."
"As for you, Uncle, before you rge into the Void, why not take a look at the moon?"
The Blacksmith’s pupils shrank as he was about to rise to his feet.
Gravity twisted and froze Spaceti!
Boom!
In the still Spaceti, a pale-green vortex descended from the sky without resistance and completely swallowed Polina.
Crack!
Polina’s head exploded.
Crack!
Fresh green sprouts pierced through her body, tearing it apart from the inside.
Boom!
The green sprouts rapidly decayed, emitting marsh gas, and the mont the Blacksmith approached, they exploded violently.
He raised his hand to cover his face, and the flas spread between his fingers, the crimson lines of blood rushing toward him, flooding into his embrace.
[Blacksmith uncle, go chase after the moon...]
"What’s this, it’s not Zhi Xiang?"
A frustrated voice suddenly rose on the plains.
Wildfire raged freely on the grassland after the rain, and a path parted through the overgrown jungle, out of which slowly erged a deford Knight.
He was towering, occupying dozens of square ters of land, his twenty-plus-ter stature forcing all living beings to look up to him.
He had mostly lost his humanoid shape, hundreds of long legs acting like tracks, supporting his cumberso body as he moved forward rapidly like a train.
His eyeballs hung heavily like giant fruits on branches, his fingernails behaved like green leaves, swaying in the wind.
Like a man-eating flower, arms connected to arms, forming thickets and vines, his entire Armor covered in a floral humanoid shape, exquisitely flawless.
The Flower Knight slowed down, his upper body sadly drooping from the flower buds, his Armor shiny and reflecting the Blacksmith’s lonely silhouette.
"We agreed that there would be Zhi Xiang every ti it rained, didn’t we? Why haven’t I seen it even after I’ve leveled the entire village?"
He turned his head slightly, noticing the Blacksmith and imdiately asked in confusion:
"Strange, I clearly didn’t detect a second target—eh? Why do you have the scent of the Void on you?"
He held his chin, shaking his head:
"Right, right, you have the scent of the Void. That’s why I couldn’t find you."
Having said that, he again beca frantic and exclaid:
"No, no, no! That’s not it! With such a pure scent of the Void, could you possibly be one of the Knights of the High Table?"
As he spoke, he imdiately leaned forward:
"Tell , you pickled old man, tell the esteed Ninth of the High Table—’Garden’ Gaden, who exactly are you?"
The Blacksmith lifted his head, his pale blue eyes instantly consud by purple.
"—You?!"
Gaden’s nails and arms quivered frantically as he scread:
"You? You can’t still be alive! How could it be you?! The first of the High Table—"
Suddenly, he quieted down, shoulders shaking, snickering:
"So that’s it, so that’s it! I knew it, where did that ability to stop ti co from? You’ve been completely devoured by the Void, how pitiful, you’re not the ’King’."
He spread his arms wide, mockingly:
"The Void won’t choose you. You don’t even have a na anymore, do you? How pathetic, the world is just so cruel. You think everyone will end up with nothing, but the Void will at least choose a Seed—it possesses the Void!"
"And you? Chief, you’ve even lost your mask. You’re penniless and worthless, everything the Kingdom once granted you has now been taken back by the Void!"
He gently lifted a bone tendril and flicked it casually; in the still spaceti, the Blacksmith was flung hundreds of kiloters away. Just as he was about to crash down, the landing point shattered instantly, and a great figure burst from the ground. Gaden leisurely grew from it, raising his palm, grabbing the Blacksmith, and violently smashing him to the ground!
Boom!!!
Dust billowed, the Blacksmith’s figure penetrated the soil, the rock layers, sinking deep into the petroleum, floating and stranding in the dark depths.
"You should not have glimpsed the true face, my esteed Chief,"
Gaden said pityingly:
"Don’t do things that go against the mainstream."
"Don’t do things that go against class."
"Don’t do good deeds."
"Nine masks, nine Knights, the High Table gave you the chance to gather the masks to appear before the ’King,’ not to peek at the truth—look at you now, you once had wealth and power above us all, a flick of your finger could tip over the continent—but now? You’re powerless, a re plaything to my single hair..."
The more he spoke, the more sothing seed off.
Even if peering at the true face resulted in the Chief being completely devoured by the Void, leaving him with nothing... the aura on him wasn’t fake.
That rich scent of the Void showed he was still up to the standards of the High Table.
Could such an existence really be defeated by one of his own hairs?
Gurgle, gurgle...
The oil churned rapidly.
Gaden tensed, instinctively backing off hundreds of ters. Realizing his own cowardice, he imdiately cursed:
"What a joke? The Chief, uh! That guy clearly has nothing left, and I still feel afraid? He has been completely consud by the Void, and now I am utterly above him—"
Bang!
The black petroleum gushed like a fountain into the sky, and the Blacksmith’s body separated from it, landing on the ground, spotless.
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