[After the fox crawled out of the pit, it traveled a long, long way.]
[At the beginning, it encountered the malicious big fox and only managed to escape after scratching the big fox’s face with all its might.]
[Later, it t the gloomy big black eagle and the flamboyant vines.]
[The big black eagle said gloomily, "I can lend you my wings, and once you learn to fly, you won’t have to worry about falling into a pit again. But I am hungry, and you must give the animals in the pit as my food."]
[The vines also said, "Heehee, heehee, I can help you too, little fox. But if you don’t find us so food, we will eat you."]
[The fox thought for a mont: "Alright, follow ."]
[It turned around, moved its little short legs, and ran towards the pit.]
...
Crimson flas wrapped around the knife and fork behind Su Ming’an.
The pitch-black snow blocked all attacks, and no one could interfere with this scene.
"Who can, who can stop..." Under the heavy pressure, people found it difficult to even make a sound. Yamada Machiichi clenched his fists tightly, a look of grief in his eyes.
Noel stared at Su Ming’an, watching Su Ming’an gradually beco transparent, gradually rging into himself...
The river between them had completely dried up and withered.
"[Oh, pale Ophelia, beautiful as snow!]" The silhouette of the Seventh Thrones appeared, its eyes shimring with brilliant colors, dancing and singing around Noel:
"[Yes, child, you are buried in the surging river!]"
The White Bird and the Red Bird circled and sang.
Under the red sun, the "Magician’s" drama entered its final act.
...
In a corner no one cared about, Su Ming’an’s ink-gold feather pen lost its owner, slowly falling into soone’s hand.
This person held it reverently with both hands.
A voice, ethereal and intangible, whispered in his ear: "Hello, child of boundless imagination, splendid spirit, and utmost faith, will you take this feather pen and beco the seventy-seventh ’Olivius’?"
This was the voice of the World Tree.
The seventy-sixth "Olivius" Su Ming’an and Sique were both unable to act, and Luowasha began automatically searching for the next "Olivius."
"...I am willing." This person slowly curled his lips, revealing a smile.
He had radiant golden hair, jade-green eyes, a broad forehead, and gentle brows and eyes. He wore a plain clergy robe embroidered with a golden Lighthouse, white gloves on his hands, and pure white boots. Every move he made exuded the cleanliness and dignity of a clergyman.
Luowasha’s criteria for choosing an "Olivius" were creativity, high spirituality, and a propensity for wild imagination. Noel originally fit this description best, but now it was this person’s turn.
Artists often share traits with those suffering from ntal illness, Sique was like this, and so was this person.
"...Father God." The golden-haired, green-eyed young man placed his right hand to his chest, where a white daffodil blood, and murmured to the sky where Su Ming’an lay with closed eyes:
"[Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you (—Gospel of John 6:51-56)."
"Father God, the bread you are to give is your flesh, for the life of the world. Your every action from beginning to end is what I aspire to, and I am grateful for your generosity, I will repay you with sincerity."
He bowed his head, licking the blood and flesh lights left by Su Ming’an, revealing a look of pleasure, as if it were a delicacy.
With his consent, a garland made of wheat ears gathered from the air, slowly descending onto his head. However, he had not yet officially beco the seventy-seventh "Olivius," only a temporary substitute.
...
["The Last Supper"]
[Story Type: Ancient Myth]
[Creator: Boris]
[Story Summary: In the murals of the Celestial Clan, there is a legend, it is said that the ancestors of the Celestial Clan once held a grand banquet, where everyone sat around and divided their deity... ]
...
As for Boris joining the team, Su Ming’an completely rejected the idea. But Prophet Atlanda said that according to predictions, Boris would play a crucial role in Luowasha, so Su Ming’an had no choice but to bring him in.
...
Regarding his own story, Boris initially just intended to be a sensationalist, as he couldn’t possibly actually consu Father God Su Ming’an.
To his surprise, as events unfolded, he found that things began to rush towards the the of the "Last Supper." The Master of the End of All Things pressed closer step by step, the truth of the World Ga gradually erged, and Su Ming’an slowly headed towards the fate of self-sacrifice, as if it were destined.
Boris began to wonder whether his inspiration, like a butterfly’s wings, spurred the river of destiny, causing events to develop this way, or if it was an inevitable conclusion from the start, and he rely happened to grasp the inspiration from the future.
Is it Zhuang Zhou dreaming of the butterfly, or the butterfly dreaming of Zhuang Zhou?
But either way, now that things have co to this point, let’s eat first.
Boris devoured the light spots in the air, originally wanting not to waste the blood and flesh given by Father God, but unexpectedly beca the next Olivius. However, even if it wasn’t him, it would have been soone else with a vivid imagination, such as Yamada Machiichi, Yi Song, and others.
With a heavy heart, Boris accepted the feather pen.
... Even if he beca the next Olivius, what would it change? He hadn’t learned how to write stories, nor did he know anything about Luowasha’s history. He didn’t know how to move mory Clips, and he didn’t know how to piece together a reasonable breaking point from millions of mory Clips — it was too difficult. Even swapping a few mory Clips’ positions, what difference would it make?
But at the instant he grasped the ink-gold feather pen, Boris was startled.
He saw a few lines of text, already stored within the feather pen:
...
[Hello, next Olivius.]
[No matter who becos the next Olivius, please rember:]
[Please activate the "World Book’s" reading mode, turn to the 1241st mory Clip·"Death of Butterfly," and swap it behind the current mory Clip.]
[Doing so may solve the current crisis.]
[Of course, shifting such a distant mory Clip might be too much for you as the writer to bear, even resulting in the total annihilation of your soul. So, the choice is yours.]
[I don’t know who you will be... but I hope you make a decision you won’t regret.]
...
"...Is this what Father God left behind?" Boris was sowhat shocked: "What content does the 1241st mory Clip have?"
He imdiately opened the "World Book" and took a look, the general content was where the protagonist Su Ming’an encountered the beheaded, pretending-to-be-dead Lü God in the first round of the Disciple Ga’s world chessboard, and later t Knight Qianqin and the golden hair group — nothing too intense.
Oh no, not right.
Boris’s eyes widened.
The beginning of this mory Clip... contains an extra, completely unrelated to the main line, headless and tailless segnt, left by soone unknown.
...
[Fire of Extinction.]
[A beautiful match.]
[A delicious drink.]
[This is what I leave for you.]
[——]
...
This... What is this segnt?
Who left it behind?
Fifth Thrones Starfire? Eleventh Thrones? Boss Rabbit? Dieying? Supre Lord?
Boris felt a violent shock in his heart, and for a mont, an absurd thought crossed his mind——
——Could it be left by Noel Agnini?
No, no... How could it be possible? How could Noel have left sothing to deal with himself? This guy only has eyes for the New World, why would he give himself trouble?
Ti was tight, and Boris didn’t think further. He quickly focused on the most critical issue——Should he bring this mory Clip to the present, as Father God suggested?
As a writer, if he did this, his frail body would definitely not withstand it and might even face soul obliteration...
"I’m a ticulous egoist. Such a choice that threatens my life should be imdiately rejected. Who cares if floods overwhelm the land, what does the fate of the world have to do with ..." Boris thought of discarding the Feather Pen.
In the next mont, the passive from the "Lighthouse Priest" occupation overwheld him——As a divine profession, Boris kept himself in a state of "extrely devout faith in Su Ming’an" through hypnosis. Only by maintaining the sincerest faith could he achieve the most abundant benefits. This was also his guiding principle along the way.
He could be devout, he could be intoxicated, he could fervently adore Su Ming’an... but he could never take it as real.
It was rely self-hypnosis and deception.
After each instance, Boris would practice looking in the mirror extensively to shake off the pathological fervor and return to his original self. And he would organize the gains from each instance nicely——Indeed, by following a "Deity," he would always gain a lot of faith and quickly increase his combat power.
It’s just mutual benefit... Boris told himself.
Gradually, people began to forget what this pathological "Zealot" originally was like. The term "Su Ming’an Zealot" seed to beco the only solidified label for "Boris." People even overlooked his handsoness, elegance, and strength, only rembering the scenes of him being beaten by Su Rin on TV and his repeated fervent actions praising the Lighthouse.
"... I should follow the footsteps of Father God and carry out the instructions left by Father God..." Boris caressed his chest, murmuring with closed eyes.
But in the next instant, he painfully opened his eyes and slapped himself: "Wake up! You are in hypnosis, hypnosis...!"
His erald pupils repeatedly shifted between clear and hazy, clear and hazy.
If a person sleeps too long, he can never wake up again.
"Heh, hehe... hehehehe..." He emitted a terrifying laugh, gazing at Su Ming’an who was gradually rging into Noel up in the sky.
His Father God, whom he revered and regarded as incomparably bright and powerful, was about to vanish before his eyes. Father God had never really cast a glance at him, mostly showing indifferent, slightly disdainful, and disdainful gazes.
"..."
He pressed the Feather Pen to his lips.
As long as he didn’t write, he wouldn’t face the consequence of soul obliteration. After all, what did this world have to do with him? If it was really so wonderful, why was the last thing his mother said to him "you disgraceful b*tch, you’re a shaful trash"?
That’s right, it’s just hypnosis, just hypnosis.
...
"[——Because the wind from the Norwegian mountains,]"
"[Had once confided in you about the bitter freedom]."
...
Under the World Tree.
Yijulai’er walked out from the World Tree.
Her whole body was stained with blood, her simple dress tattered, and she was holding a head with purple hair and golden eyes.
Casually tossing the head aside, Yijulai’er floated into the sky, a complete World Tree Seed at her chest.
Her heartbeat was tumultuous, as if it was connected to the entire world.
She pointed with her delicate hand at Noel Agnini under the Red Sun:
"In the na of ’Watchers under the World Tree, Keeper of Order’s Chi Hand, Shepherd of Luowasha,’ I burn myself to seal you——" Yijulai’er said coldly.
In an instant, the sky seed to turn into pages of a beige book, yet extrely illusory, still unable to block the blazing red clouds.
Noel completely ignored Yijulai’er; she was just Half High-dinsional, not enough to seal him at all.
Behind Noel, a knife and fork shone brightly——Noel had already successfully acquired Su Ming’an’s "Devour" authority.
At the sa ti, Noel’s pupils turned completely black, emanating an aura of destruction and corruption.
The Master of the End of All Things and Seventh Thrones dominated Noel’s body, and his consciousness briefly shrank into a cluster, occupying just a little space.
The "Devour" authority turned into a scarlet stream, turned into blazing flas, starting from Su Ming’an’s legs, devouring upwards, spreading to the groin, abdon, chest.
The black mist violently surged, and the Eighth Thrones was furious about this "Mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind" underhanded stunt. Yet it was suppressed by the alliance of the Seventh Thrones and the Master of the End of All Things, like extinguishing a weak candle fla.
As long as Su Ming’an was devoured, not only would the main power of the Eighth Thrones be consud, but even possibly existing Death authority... would also fall into Their hands.
Even without emotions, the Master of the End of All Things sensed a similar feeling of joyful satisfaction.
"Rest assured. Noel Agnini, based on the contract between us, once Su Ming’an is devoured, I will help you undergo Dinsional Ascension imdiately. From then on, you will be an Adventurer roaming the universe. No place will be beyond your reach. The answer you seek to end everything will eventually be revealed to you," said the Master of the End of All Things.
"Hee hee, right! When the World Ga is at its weakest, I’ll quickly run away, Noel brother, you just follow along! We’ll travel to the edge of the universe together!" the Seventh Thrones cackled, circling around Noel a few tis.
...
["Don’t try any tricks! Little Fox, once I’ve eaten the animals in the pit, I’ll give you wings. By then, you can go wherever you want," the Black Hawk threatened, gazing at the fox ahead.]
["Hee hee. I trust you’ll make a smart choice, Little Fox. Did you hear that?" the vine laughed.]
[Under the moonlight, the fox’s fluffy big tail swayed slightly.]
[It slowly turned its sharp face, narrowing its curved pupils into a line, and laughed——]
...
"Of course. I promised you, so I will naturally not go back on my word."
The "Magician" laughed like this.
His lips curled into a mysterious smile.
He relinquished control entirely, fully surrendering his body to the Master of the End of All Things and the Seventh Thrones. Then, he quietly awaited the end, gazing at the devouring flas licking up Su Ming’an’s chest, the flas gradually reaching Su Ming’an’s cheeks...
In that mont, he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder.
A pale, transparent, crystal-like hand pressed onto his shoulder.
Imdiately, there were a pair of pitch-black pupils in close proximity.
Pitch-black hair and golden hair interwoven, fluttering as if continuously converging and dispersing into a yellow-black stream.
Noel felt a shiver down his spine, the Master of the End of All Things and the Seventh Thrones within him also noticed the suddenly opened eyes of Su Ming’an——
Under the Red Sun, his face was pale as paper, like a ghost crawling out of the Nine Serenities.
His pitch-black pupils were calm yet frenzied, a few lines of bright red blood flowing down his eye sockets, staining the corners of his eyes with a vivid crimson.
The breathless "dead man" regained breathing, gazing at them, slowly opening his pale and colorless lips——
"[With my life, soul, and authority as the eternal vessel]."
The "Magician" heard an unexpected sentence.
"[With no ti limit, cycle after cycle, eternal and everlasting——]"
"[Seal you and for eternity.]"
...
...How dare he?
How dare he think he could do it?
...
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