The more they oppose, the more it shows that I am doing the right thing Chapter 690 - 359 Yage Sylvia Never Existed3

This was the altar of the Life Esoteric Church Followers, and An Su had sacrificed countless tis, so he naturally understood: this was the most basic altar of the Life Esoteric Church.

Yet, the scene before him was all too familiar, so familiar it was etched into his bones—

Because An Su had experienced it himself; this was the start of "Nether", the very beginning, the origin of all stories:

Two years ago, the night he was captured by the Followers of Life and sacrificed!

The candles of Shadow and the Unknown could revive all past events connected with 'unknown'. In his previous life, An Su's unknown was Virgin Chu, and in this life, it was this very night.

As a player, An Su was all too familiar with this night, because in his past life, he had speedrun the ga seventeen tis, and watched the sa opening seventeen tis. No matter how many tis it restarted, the solution couldn't be changed. This was the "Destiny" of this story.

No matter how the players skipped classes, they were dood to fail.

Because this was a plot-driven death. A plot-driven death does not entertain reasons; it is devoid of reason. Just like destiny, it was a fate that had been predetermined.

As a Child of the Curse, he was singled out for sacrifice by the Esoteric Sect Followers, and Luoja Fast, "The Morning Light that Illuminates Nether," awakened upon his death. Miss Enya Moningsta, the maid, missed his death and chose to commit suicide in front of the altar.

An Su had to admit, this origin held many unsolved mysteries.

Even one could say, 'contradictions.'

Given the maid Miss's overprotectiveness at the ti, needing to follow even during baths and sleep, how could there be a situation where he was left alone? The background of Miss Enya was also a mystery. Why did she choose to commit suicide, was it rely for the sake of a ritual burial?

What did those three dreams he had signify?

In any case, everything fell into the shadows of the unknown.

Miss Enya's story line also thus ca to an end.

This mory developed as indisputably as the past. An Su, from a third-person perspective, walked through the filthy altar, unseen by any Esoteric Sect Followers.

Now, An Su could view this mory from an absolutly objective angle; he saw the frenzied Followers, the lone and pitiable Little Luojia, dressed in a bleached nun's robe, hugging her knees, crouching in the corner of the prison like a stray kitten; he also saw himself—the self yet unaware of past life mories.

That confused, ignorant, unknowing self.

The fifteen-year-old noble young man hung his head, his greenish eyes reflecting a pallid light, his skin almost transparently pale, and his robe draped down, covering his bare feet; his eyes held only fear, ignorance, and confusion, he was about to be killed, the glow in his eyes gradually fading.

He knew nothing, understood nothing.

In this cold, bloody cell, he was just a fifteen-year-old child.

But just then, An Su saw sothing in the mory, which he at that ti could not perceive.

It was Shadow Magic. A magic that concealed everything.

—This was the shadow hidden within the truth.

At fifteen, An Su could not see clearly, but now, An Su could see, as his soul had surpassed that of a Saint. He could clearly see that Shadow Magic—

An Su's eyes widened slightly because he saw a scene he absolutely could not believe.

He saw amber eyes, he saw thin cherry-like lips, he saw a black and white Lolita dress and brown suede boots, the gloomy autumn rain pounding into the soil. There stood the girl within the shadows, the candlelight making the shadows flicker uncertainly.

He saw Miss Enya Moningsta, right there before him, outside the prison, in the autumn rain, in the shadows. The girl gently lifted her slender, pale fingers, brushing across the young boy's cheek, a touch cold and clean, as though the autumn rain had gently swept across the skin, or like the fingertips of the night, softly brushing across the tails of stars.

Miss Enya, in the shadows, watched over An Su for a long, long ti—observing him from two years before, during the long ti where the late evening breeze moistened the air, she lowered her face and stepped forward.

The touch between her lips was like the moist touch of cherry blossoms, slightly sweet, slightly unripe, a bit dim, just like this misty autumn night, quiet and hushed, afraid to speak out loud, the love hidden in darkness.

Then An Su heard Miss Enya speak softly, "Mother Goddess of Shadow and the Unknown."

"The great entity that governs knowledge and the unknown,"

"Fog of darkness, the cosmic original chaos—"

"I sacrifice in the na of Yage Sylvia, with my 'ignorance' to awaken his 'knowledge'."

"Please return the knowledge sufficient to transcend destiny to your blindly foolish follower."

"Grant him the intellect to end the 'Nether' cycle."

The girl lowered her eyes, gently embracing the young boy in the shadows.

"Morning Star Young Master."

"Even though I have forgotten myself, please rember who you are."

"Even if Radiance has been overshadowed, please climb the final steps of destiny."

"Fate's Staircase."

In the next instant, An Su hazily opened his eyes, he hung his head low, looking at the reflection of the young boy in the puddle, stunned.

And the touch on his lips, as if it never existed, was just an illusion.

Yage Sylvia never existed,

—He had just kissed a brief autumn rain.