The feeling of slight drunkenness enveloped Su Ming’an.
The wine in the cup once again brewed, and Su Ming’an took another sip.
In the drowsy shallow dream, he saw the final story.
...
Year 0 of Genesis, January 1st.
The world completed its fusion.
A hundred million people’s mories were generally erased, only so players with very high positional rank were not erased by the World Tree and needed to erase their mories themselves.
The thod to erase mory - is to jump into the "Sea of Ink" at the edge of the world, this sea can cleanse the gilded surface.
The scorching sun hung high, the crashing waves hitting the shore. The abyss below was as black as ink, and the seawater glistened.
Nine figures stood atop the cliff.
They drank and made rry, they improvised songs, they cried and laughed wildly toward the future.
"Jump down! Everyone! Even if we forget everything, our bonds will not disappear! In a thousand or ten thousand years—on the day our mories are awakened, we will et again!"
Blake chugged his wine enthusiastically and leaped down.
Plop.
The first sound.
"I look forward to our new world. So... smile. There’s no need to fear, we will eventually reach the other side."
Antetolia smiled brightly, raised the golden goblet high, and her golden hair fluttered freely.
Splash.
The second sound.
"I don’t have pretty words to say, but I hope I won’t fare too poorly in the future, or I won’t be able to lift my head."
Mao Lian smiled as she drank the wine, waved her hand, and turned around.
The third sound.
"This is not the end, but our starting point. I look forward to the day we reunite."
Ludwig took a small sip, gently placed the wine glass down, and stepped forward with a smile.
The fourth sound.
"In Dragon Country, there’s ngpo Soup and Naihe Bridge. After drinking the soup and crossing the bridge, all mories are wiped clean, with no ties to past lives. Jump into this ’Sea of Ink’, and we’ll et again soday!"
Mu Changying cupped his hands, poised like green bamboo, steadfast and resolute.
The fifth sound.
"Hui Bai, I’m looking forward to playing the animal chess we studied here with you, I really like those wonderful little things."
Rock, wearing a high hat, bowed slightly like a gentleman taking a curtain call, and turned leisurely.
The sixth sound.
"I have nothing to say, so I’ll sing you a song."
Edith’s laugh was charming and gentle.
She sang softly, and her singing lingered by the sea, echoing for a long ti:
"A lancholy voice, it sang to in the night, ’I love you’...♪"
The singing grew fainter, then dissipated in the wind.
The seventh sound.
Lastly, it was Ran Bo.
The stern-faced scientist cleared his throat, looked dimly at Hui Bai: "I don’t want to forget everything."
He was the only one to voice opposition; he admitted he wasn’t as open-minded as the others. If he lost his mories, who would he be? A holess ghost?
Hui Bai sighed softly and patted Ran Bo’s shoulder:
"I promise you - we will et again."
"Look forward to the day when old friends reunite. I will co to you and bring you out of chaos."
This promise was utterly sincere.
Ran Bo remained silent for a long, long ti until Yijulai’er gave a slightly urging glance, and only then did he slowly raise his head and drink the last drop of wine from the cup.
"...Alright."
"I will wait for you, for that day of ’old friends reunited’."
Plop.
The eighth sound.
Ink swallowed everything, just like the ever-flowing ti.
The universe is vast and boundless, yet life’s smallest forms cling to creating fleeting eternities, even as the morning light fades before dawn.
Hui Bai lowered his eyelids.
The cliff that was just filled with singing and the aroma of wine, now had one figure left from nine.
He closed his eyes, fear subtly rising in his heart. Half of him would beco part of the "Hui Family," the other half "Order Guardian Hui Bai," like a shattered glass bottle, unable to find the self again.
At that mont, "Number One Player Hui Bai" equals death.
At this mont,
Su Ming’an suddenly found that he could step into the dream.
...Was it the special effect of the "Dream of Deceit" prop? Or did the Creation System make the two resonate sohow?
Su Ming’an stepped forward and patted Hui Bai’s shoulder.
Hui Bai turned back, surprised: "...Rank Eleven Su Ming’an? How are you here, you’re not within the range of one hundred million.’" He paused, quickly figuring it out: "Looks like you’re the Number One Player in the last cycle, seeing this scene through so sort of prop? You are truly remarkable."
I am remarkable...
Su Ming’an felt a slight stir.
Hui Bai clapped his hands and laughed: "I’ve already made an agreent with the World Tree, it divided a half-seed, given to a High Dinsion nad ’Starfire.’ When you are about to arrive with ten hundred million people, ’Starfire’ will place this half-seed in the previous instance, considered as a gift I, as the initial Number One Player, leave for the succeeding Number One Player... I believe it should already be in your heart."
Su Ming’an slightly widened his eyes.
He touched his heart, where half a seed was pulsating.
...
[World Tree Seed (Purple Grade): "A lancholy voice, it sang to in the night:—’I love you.’"]
[Type: Special heart equipnt.]
[Effect: Changes your innate trait, giving you an affinity for life force. You will be more favored by Primordial Spirits and the world.]
[Note: Those who are favored hold great responsibility, be cautious.]
[After Su Ming’an equipped this seed, a shining blue light rged into his chest, seemingly changing sothing in the dark.]
[——The 1105th mory Clip·"Dust of the Era"]
...
"So, that’s what you left for ... Thank you." Su Ming’an felt the pulse of his heart, the life force like an erupting fountain. He looked at Hui Bai, solemnly: "You were the last to jump... you must have felt great regret. If there’s anything you left unsaid, you can tell ."
Since the dream intentionally brought the two together, then let it be a simple handover - from the initial "Number One Player" to the final "Number One Player". A dialogue spanning four hundred million cycles.
Hui Bai indeed didn’t say anything gravely.
He just told Su Ming’an a fairy tale.
...
Once upon a ti, there was a sunfish.
The sunfish’s friend was a nightingale suffering from an innate heart disease.
The sunfish was a magical fish whose heart could be implanted into anyone’s body. To help the nightingale recover, the sunfish gave its heart to the nightingale.
In the end, the sunfish died with a smile, while the nightingale sang high up in the branches.
...
An absurd fairy tale, yet Hui Bai told it joyfully.
He once loved to tell fairy tales. However, ever since becoming the "Number One Player," no one had listened to his fairy tales anymore.
"What kind of fish is a sunfish?" Su Ming’an asked.
"A fish resembling sunlight that glows at night; in Luowasha, it is described as ’the lighthouse of the seabed.’" Hui Bai smiles.
"Why does the sunfish want to save the nightingale?" Su Ming’an’s gaze is focused.
—Why do you want to save Zhai Xing?
"Because the nightingale adopted the sunfish, the sunfish must repay the favor." Hui Bai says.
—Because Zhai Xing is the place that raised and nurtured ; I cannot abandon it.
"But to repay the favor, must it surrender its heart?"
—But to repay the favor, must it surrender your life?
Hui Bai walks to the edge of the cliff, gazing at the ink sea and sky.
His blonde hair is lifted by the wind, blue eyes clear and pure, like sunlight:
"If only it weren’t the heart."
"That barren and uninteresting him... what else could be repaid?"
—If only it weren’t my life.
Just an ordinary young sailor I am—what else could be repaid?
A haze rises from the distant moonlight; Hui Bai knows he cannot delay too long; he should jump now. He no longer looks at Su Ming’an, rely closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and his lips curl upward.
"Swish!" The sound of wind moving.
Su Ming’an instinctively reaches out.
Soft blonde hair brushes past his fingers, like a jumping fish.
For a mont, the young man before him no longer resembles the usual "flying bird" imagery but a fish actively leaping off the cliff, actively heading to the sea.
"...I wish you more luck than , Su Ming’an." He leaves behind his final words of oblivion.
He does not demand to be rembered, nor does he demand gratitude.
Clearly, those he saved and resurrected do not rember him.
Blake, who beca the Dragon Emperor, forgets him; Edith, who beca the Lord of the Dead Xi Ting, forgets him; Li Mingyue does not rember him; Su Wensheng does not rember him; even the "seed" never casts a glance toward him.
Because he was left behind as the Fire Holder before dawn.
And people only rember those who led them out of dawn.
Su Ming’an watches the surging black sea, the water dark like ink, swallowing the golden figure in an instant; only the scent of wine remains in the air, perhaps along with the faint remainder of Edith’s singing. In a daze, he realizes he has never seen Hui Bai’s true appearance, which should have been a youth with green hair and brown eyes. No one knows his facial features, whether his face is round, how high his nose bridge is, or how thin his lips are.
Perhaps even Hui Bai himself has forgotten.
He grew into Noel’s hair color, Noel’s eye color, regarded like Noel, evaluated like Noel. The thin "Hui Bai" seems far inferior to the weighty "Noel Agnini."
These matters are too heavy, even he himself has forgotten himself.
From now on, the billion people will face waiting.
The long wait.
Await Blake becoming the Dragon Emperor, magpies finishing pecking wheat ears, dogs finishing eating rice, fire burning off chains.
Await the second seat reincarnating here, the appearance of the Creation System, the independent wars, the War of Eden, the Day of God’s Fall...
Whenever those distant people from ten billion holands can descend into this world once... then...
...
—"We will reunite eventually."
...
[TE2·"They’ve waited too long for redemption" (Reach the dark side, end the world ga.)]
...
"They" have waited too long for redemption.
Too long.
...
The notes of Yijulai’er add more content:
["Humans are extrely small beneath the star sea, not large upon the land either. They elevate themselves, belittle others, and consider themselves the center of the universe, filled with all manner of strange motivations to chase the code in their hearts."]
["But recently, I’ve seen so people who are different."]
["Perhaps he, not a fool."]
["They are different."]
...
"Swish!" Su Ming’an suddenly feels very light.
His ears suddenly feel hot, cheeks turn sticky, his entire body feels very fiery, as if poured over with boiling water.
His body suddenly becos very light, he feels like he’s flying, turning into a feather or a piece of cloth.
Just when he finishes seeing all history, he imdiately leaves the small world, returns to Luowasha, and opens his eyes.
—The indistinct mist surrounding him, accompanied by the hoarse whispers’ muttering. The mist clings on his skin like bone-clinging maggots, emitting a gnawing sound giving him chills.
The most terrifying thing is, he feels his perspective is very low.
So low... like the height of two or three heads.
A speculation that causes goosebumps crosses his mind.
"...Ah, you’re awake. Su Ming’an." A familiar and elegant voice, akin to a gentleman’s tone, echoes from within the mist: "Finding you wasn’t easy. Your guardian was quite diligent, standing firm without retreating even against high dinsions for three or four seconds. But unfortunately, it was of no use."
Eyeballs shift, Su Ming’an sees the room is empty, Qianqin is gone.
Only a golden flashing knight’s sword, along with so pieces of cloth and black hair, lay on the ground, foretelling her ending.
This round, Noel delayed the call for the Lord of the End of All Things, destruction did not arrive, and facing the shaky Luowasha, the first to descend was the Eighth Thrones behind Aylan.
Su Ming’an lowers his head, views below his abdon as empty, swallowed and enveloped by black mist, smoke swirling and streaming, like the pitch-black tail of a liquid swimming fish.
His surroundings likewise swim with pitch-black mist, seeming to grow on him, as if he beca the appearance of the "Eighth Thrones."
"I always thought you were not a bad person." Su Ming’an sighs softly.
"What defines a good person? What defines a villain? Pleasing you makes one good, hurting you makes one bad?" Aylan’s voice resonates from within the black mist, as if speaking within Su Ming’an’s chest: "I’m not like Noel, trying to take your life. I rely wished to unify with you—thus becoming the ’protagonist,’ owning the Number One Player’s identity and title, and you would gain formidable strength from the [Eighth Thrones, Lord of Thought and Faith]. What’s wrong with that?"
The Eighth Thrones, Lord of Thought and Faith. Best at infiltration, assimilation, fusion.
"..."
"Now, how will you kill ? Unless you stab yourself, perish with . The fusion between us will only grow deeper and tighter..." Aylan gently states: "What I solely desire is to beco high-dinsional, you can effortlessly achieve. I’ll join you in killing Noel Agnini, bringing everything to an end."
Su Ming’an calmly says, "I’m rely contemplating; if I devour the Eighth Thrones, perhaps I could defeat the Seventh Thrones."
Aylan chuckles: "I knew you’d think this way, but it’s impossible to devour yourself! The Eighth Thrones’ ’fusion’ strictly restrains your ’devour’! Your authority has no use here. Drop resistance; we needn’t be foes."
Su Ming’an silently walks forward, below the mist acts as legs, autonomously leading him on.
He swiftly leaves this place, flying all the way to the World Tree. Lü Shu, Lu, Tian Yu, Zhao Yuan, i Yani, among others, are here.
Looking at Su Ming’an’s visage, they are overwhelmingly shocked.
"This... is the Eighth Thrones?"
"This is Aylan... No, this is... this is Su Ming’an?"
"He’s been controlled... Is he going to destroy here? No..."
At this mont, Su Ming’an recalls the smile of Hui Bai, when he fell in the end.
"I’m thinking..."
He quietly thinks, faintly smiles.
"I should quickly comprehend why Sique, that lazy magpie, likes being devoured so much..."
He reaches out his right hand, towards his heart.
...
[Approaching observation junction point.]
[Should the Observer not wish to anchor this ending’s "narrative anchor point," please cease observation, await the creation of a new branch’s "mory Clip."]
[Repetition.]
[Observation equals setting, observe cautiously.]
[Observation equals setting, observe cautiously.]
...
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