Su Ming’an, following Captain Mu’s instructions, arrived at the edge of the Inner City, where there stood a church.
...
[Captain Mu (21:45): It seems it’s already been destroyed.]
...
The church had perished in the flas of war, its red tiles and broken stones piled up on the ground. An edifice dating back before the Century Catastrophe, it had withstood the test of ti in Doomsday City for sixty years, only to be ultimately destroyed by civil strife.
Su Ming’an extended his hand, and the Ring of Ti sparkled, his finger pointing at the church.
Instantly, bricks and stones lifted from the ground, the erald do pieced itself together, showing the outline of the church. In less than ten seconds, it had regained its original grandeur.
This was the first ti Su Ming’an had used the rewind skill, and the effect was incredibly shocking. It was as though the hand of God was reversing ti.
Captain Mu had chosen the location well. The church was wrapped in tall buildings, and few people noticed the activity here.
As Su Ming’an pushed open the main door, he saw quite a few soldiers’ bodies on the ground.
...
[Captain Mu (21:45): This area is close to several dungeons; there might have been a dispute between prisoners and their escort.]
...
Su Ming’an passed by these bodies, and at the end of the church’s red carpet, there was a small back room. Inside was a resonance device.
With a "creak," Su Ming’an pushed open the door to see a machine linked by red and blue circuits, with a simple chair beside it that looked like a space for confessions or penitence, quite small. But surprisingly, an old man sat on the chair, half-slumped over, his head drooping, his face paler than paper, resembling a dead corpse.
Several connecting wires were attached around the old man’s head, the machine emitting a soft hum. This man was using the emotional resonance device.
The emotional resonance device wasn’t anything nice—it was rare for most people to have a need to go through soone else’s life. For most, this device was more about breaking down willpower or a tool for punishing prisoners.
Su Ming’an quickly ripped out the wires, severing the old man’s connection to the resonance. The man’s body imdiately fell forward.
"...Why are you here?" Su Ming’an caught the old man’s shoulders to prevent him from crashing to the ground.
He did not expect to find anyone here.
The old man’s eyelids twitched slightly, and due to the tornt of the resonance, his pupils were bloodshot and murky. His hair was white as a layer of snow.
He stared at Su Ming’an’s face for a while:
"Am I... dreaming?
Although you look different, I have a feeling... You are Lord Lewis, you’ve co to see , haven’t you?"
Su Ming’an frowned, "Yes. Can you walk on your own?"
The old man braced himself on the chair’s armrest, attempting to stand but failing; he was too weak.
Despite the old man’s face being gaunt, as thin as skin and bones, Su Ming’an still recognized him—it was Sen Kylstia.
Sen was the original leader of Beacon, and he was their rescue target for this mission. Just an hour ago, as Su Ming’an was sneaking into the building, he overheard Sen telling his escort, Rong Yuan, that he would betray Lord Lewis.
Sen’s words, "If I provide you with information on Lord Lewis, will you grant my freedom?" still echoed clearly in Su Ming’an’s mory.
Why Sen appeared here could be due to the escort team being ambushed along the way, resulting in soone torturing Sen. Sen was one of the key figures in the main quest "Revival of All Things" and could not be allowed to die here.
Su Ming’an brought out a wheelchair: "Get on."
"No, no... cough, how can I use your things..." Sen repeatedly gestured with his hands.
"Get on." Su Ming’an grabbed Sen’s hand, pressing the whole person onto the wheelchair and pushed him out of the room.
The wheelchair had run out of power and was no different from an ordinary wheelchair. The church floor was covered in sticky blood and bodies; Sen leaned on the creaking wheelchair, gasping for air.
Cold sweat continuously slid down the old man’s forehead, his pupils dilating and contracting, his fingers trembling involuntarily.
"How long have you been using the resonance device?" Su Ming’an asked.
"Ten... thirteen minutes," Sen answered.
"Why did you use it?" Su Ming’an frowned. Noah had held on for fifteen minutes before passing away. Sen, at his advanced age, thirteen minutes...
Sen just gasped for air.
Pushing the wheelchair, surrounded by soldiers’ bodies, the church had originally been destroyed in the bombardnt. It was only through the Ring of Ti that it was restored; most of the soldiers had been crushed to death by falling masonry. Only Sen, who had hidden in the back room, was still alive.
No one knew what had happened here.
Because of the cold weather, a layer of fog ford over Sen’s pupils; looking at the dying people around him, his eyes seed as if he were about to cry, yet his expression remained extrely calm, creating a contrasting stillness.
Pushing the wheelchair with bumps along the way, Sen suddenly said softly:
"...I’m sorry."
"What?" Su Ming’an didn’t hear him clearly.
"Lord, I’m sorry..." said Sen.
Su Ming’an’s expression didn’t change; his gaze didn’t even waver.
"It doesn’t matter, I’m used to it." Su Ming’an knew what Sen wanted to say.
Just betrayal, which he had clearly overheard, but he wasn’t angry. He had learned to rescue people who betrayed him without changing his mood. Sen was old; it was natural for him to choose to betray his lord for his life.
He had learned—to care about what should be cared about, and to ignore what should be ignored. Being betrayed was a common occurrence; being targeted by enemies was normal; being loved was just an extra gift to be accepted. Not to hope excessively ant not to suffer too much. Not valuing a treasure too much ant not being too sad when it was lost.
His gaze fixed straight ahead; the patterns on the church’s doors were extrely ornate, as if depicting ancient myths, holding the buried wishes of the people before the Century Catastrophe. The old man on the wheelchair kept coughing, his white hair trembling ceaselessly.
"...I’m sorry, Lord."
But what Sen said next changed Su Ming’an’s expression.
"You intended to mislead them with false information so they couldn’t find your trace, yet the Ta Wei army saw through it and tortured you to this extent..."
Sen said with a choke:
"You had an escape plan all worked out, aiming to free others in the dungeons, yet at the end, due to incomplete information, you were trapped in the church, forced to watch it collapse and everyone die..."
"You wanted to initiate a connection to the Emotional Resonance device, hoping to leave so ssage before being crushed to death, only to realize you couldn’t disentangle yourself from the resonance, and you ended up needing to be saved by you..."
"I can’t possess your wisdom; I am just an old man with frail bones... The only thing I have is a heart wishing to share your worries, but even that is not worth ntioning..."
"Lord, I am old."
Murky tears slid down his cheeks.
"I am just an ordinary person, without any deifying halo, nor am I as intelligent as you..."
"I am really tired and no longer have the strength to rush to you without looking back. Even though I always want to help you, I always end up doing more harm than good. I have never been favored by the world after all..."
"..."
The light in Su Ming’an’s eyes trembled.
— Had none of these people who betrayed him actually betrayed him?
Whether it was Tretiya, Yao Wen, or Sen, if any one of them was a traitor...
What kind of humans has the Ruined World cultivated?
Su Ming’an left the church quickly, and the torrential rain instantly pounded on their heads. Dark alleys ran with black blood mixed with gasoline flowing into the sewers. Lightning suddenly appeared, stabbing white and bright into people’s eyes.
At that mont, a ssage from Captain Mu popped up, saying that the nearest soldiers were stationed a kiloter away, but there was no dical equipnt there, and moreover, Emotional Resonance was irreversible.
Su Ming’an stopped in his tracks.
There was no point in seeking treatnt.
They stood under an eave.
He looked down at the old man in the wheelchair, his white hair heavy with rain, sparkling like diamonds under the dim streetlights. The old man, with his head full of diamonds, slowly, slowly turned his head.
His eyes burned like flas, as if the fire in his pupils would never extinguish.
In that instant, Su Ming’an suddenly wanted to rage. He wanted to question this World Replica, what exactly was it letting him save? Air?
— Why did he co to this Ruined World in the first place?
— Was it just to witness the death of others?
— Was it to make him experience loss over and over?
"Lord, don’t think about saving . I’m not as valuable as Fayse or Noah. I’m just an insignificant old man," Sen said.
Su Ming’an took a breath of ice-cold air.
"Lord... I’ve seen many dying soldiers. Before they die, they always hold my hand begging for help, for just one more minute or second, to give them ti to say goodbye to their families, even though they know I can’t do it," Sen said:
"Humans are always like this, only cherishing what they have once they’ve lost it... Thankfully, I am fortunate. I did not die in so secret chamber, covered in blood, unable to breathe fresh air all the way to my death."
"I tried that Emotional Resonance device for you. If you use it, you can skip the most painful beginning part of resonance."
Su Ming’an still didn’t speak.
After ten seconds, he finally said:
"Sen, do you still rember Yao Wen?"
The heavy rain hit his face obliquely, as if touching his skin.
"I rember, a good kid. He was in his thirties when he drew the chanical Army away," Sen said.
"He too was a hero, although no one knows it." Su Ming’an said, "Ever since I sent Yao Wen off, I realized there are so many like him in the Ruined World, thousands of Yao Wens."
"For over forty years, no one in this world has fought alone," Sen said: "You can fully trust our souls."
The yellowish light flickered on the old man’s face, as if caressing his uneven wrinkles. After a mont, blood began to erge from the corner of Sen’s mouth.
Just like Noah’s symptoms before he died.
Emotional Resonance, like a fatal poison, was irreversible. If one couldn’t endure it, that was that.
"Let’s turn back, back to the church," Sen said, "at least let return to those dead kids."
Su Ming’an silently watched the distant buildings for several seconds.
In the darkness, the lights were not visible, and the broken walls resembled a fallen black dragon.
A mont later, he turned around and pushed in the direction of the church.
The hands he used to push the wheelchair were forceful, the knuckles turning a pale bluish-white.
"Death represents liberation, yet it’s most cruel to those alive. Those who survive carry a great responsibility; they cannot die." The old man’s voice, amidst the rain, was gentle:
"I’ve been thinking about this notion since Xia Sheng’s suicide. It’s been revolving in my head, unable to be relieved."
"I just feel... I missed my chance to die on the battlefield."
"Lord, I hope you won’t bla humanity. Back then, so people were indeed selfish, hoping to hand you over, but they were also looking out for their families—after all, there will always be those willing to go through fire and water for you, silently facing all the pressure."
"Without speaking out, without boasting, without vanity, without seeking vindication."
"I know," Su Ming’an rembered Tretiya, and her final gaze: "I know."
He suddenly heard the old man’s laughter.
Raspy, tinged with blood, it wasn’t clear in the rain. The corners of the old man’s eyes crinkled slightly, his face etched with the ample marks of ti.
"Actually, sotis, you’re like a child who doesn’t seem to have experienced such a long span of years... That comnt might be a bit offensive. But in the end, I still want to speak the truth."
Sen clutched the armrest, slowly turning his head, the blood at the corner of his mouth having soaked through his collar.
"Is that so?" Su Ming’an said.
He didn’t rember when he had ever shown such a childish side.
"That year, 32 years in, when you ca to Beacon, I thought you were soone extraordinary. After Beacon turned into Zone Eleven, and Zone Eleven into Doomsday City, more and more people took notice of you.
But I saw you upset. When Fayse died, when Yao Wen disappeared, when Luna died, when Xia Sheng died, when Tretiya died, when Su Xiaobi jumped... At those tis, I thought you were actually very lonely.
Sotis you are so wise and composed it’s shocking. Other tis you make mistakes, and speak insincerely like a sulking child. It’s then that I feel you are real, not just a perfect statue."
"...I haven’t spoken insincerely," Su Ming’an said.
"You are doing it right now," Sen said.
Su Ming’an’s gaze lost focus.
He couldn’t smile at such a ti.
"Sorry, but I really do want to say these things," Sen said.
"It’s alright." Su Ming’an said.
"After tonight, the war will surely be completely over, then..." Sen paused, his voice suddenly shaky:
"Could you bury ... with Xia Sheng?"
The old man’s unflustered deanor in the face of death was much stronger than that of the young. Since seeing Su Ming’an, there wasn’t a hint of fear of death on his face. He just said that he could finally end it, that his life was finally reaching its conclusion.
Years ago, he had missed his chance to die on the battlefield, and spent the rest of his life uneasy about it. Now dying on the battlefield, he felt he had t a proper end.
But when he ntioned "Xia Sheng", Sen’s voice actually trembled and wavered.
That na, it seed, was a mory he could never forget in his lifeti.
"I can," Su Ming’an promised.
Sen suddenly reached out his hand.
The old man’s thin sleeve naturally slid down, exposing an arm as dry and dark as a skeleton, his fingers lifted slightly as if trying to grasp sothing.
Su Ming’an leaned forward slightly.
Thus, Sen’s hand successfully touched his face.
The old man’s body was already frail, and after a long period of imprisonnt, he had suffered much torture, his hands were full of chilblains and scars, even missing a forefinger. Even without an Emotional Resonance device, he probably wouldn’t have lived much longer.
In his dying monts, touching the face of the City Lord he admired most, he seed to gaze upon a flicker of light, as if one ray of light had finally touched another.
Afterward,
The light, bit by bit, fell into the Void.
"I can finally..."
The old man’s bluish-purple lips rubbed together:
"Go to et Xia Sheng."
"He has had a twenty-four-year head start on ,"
"I’m finally going to see him."
Su Ming’an’s gaze quivered.
So say, those who leave this world simply don’t exist in this one, two, or three-dinsional space. In fact, they are together with many more people in a much larger world, just in a different form.
Sotis, the heavy tombstones are them, the wind by your ear is them, the white birds in the sky are them, the lotus in the pond is them, the steaming milk on the table is them.
And for Sen Kylstia—
Su Ming’an stared straight into the vivacious red of his eyes.
Those ceaselessly burning flas, from now on, were him.
His son, Cheng Kylstia, and his grandchild, Che Kylstia, had spent their whole lives striving for the continuity of humankind. In their eyes, too, was a certain fire that burned.
"Lord, after tonight, go enjoy the tomorrow that humanity brings, it’s what you deserve." The blood beside the old man’s mouth grew more copious:
"I ask that you continue to treat humanity kindly, regardless of what is smart, what is foolish; humans choose to live or die in the way they believe..."
"Not for life, nor for death, humans carry through their convictions. So die for love, so for happiness, so after suffering. It’s too complicated, you surely... understand a hundred tis deeper than an ordinary person like ."
"So, I will only wish you..."
At that point, the old man withdrew his hand.
He solemnly crossed his hands, resting them on his knees, his back straightened, his head slightly lifted.
In that mont, his whole body suddenly emanated a sharp aura, the sense of old-fashioned senility rapidly disappeared.
Just like the instant,
The young Beacon leader who had walked into the tavern in the 32nd year of the Catastrophe, Lewis, sitting on a high stool slowly turned his head back—returned.
Su Ming’an had seen him at his sharpest.
If the world is enveloped in utmost darkness, soone must walk at the forefront, allowing those behind to still see a figure to follow. There must always be a spark of hope that remains, or what is the point of sacrifice?
"Sen Kylstia."
The old man solemnly repeated his own na:
"I sincerely wish you..."
A copious amount of dark purple blood spilled from the corners of his mouth.
"To have a land covered with blossoms in the..."
"Tomb of mories..."
"I wish you..."
His gaze remained sharp, the fla in his eyes never dimming throughout his journey ho.
"This is the last ti... I lose."
Cold rainwater infiltrated Su Ming’an’s robes; he could no longer distinguish between what was warm and what was cold. The world seed blurred, as though rging into one entity.
From afar ca the sounds of a baby’s yamring cry, mixed with the chi of wind bells from the apartnt buildings. Inside the buildings, there was peace—a stark contrast to the blood and rain on the streets that could not disturb them.
Ming’an vaguely caught the scent of lilies.
Then he rembered the girl who gave him his first bouquet of lilies, a descendant of Sen who died fighting against the invasion of Ta Wei.
Three generations of heroes from the Kylstia Family.
"I heard it," Su Ming’an said:
"The final words, I will rember every one of them."
The old man was silent.
He, too, gazed quietly forward, not minding the icy rain that soaked him, as if enveloped in so form of tranquil isolation from the outside world.
Monts later, his head slowly drooped, his eyelids grew heavy, and it seed as though sparkles were rising from his seat, drifting into the sky, toward the lofty firmant—
As if they were the souls of countless humans who refused to submit in war, who fought to the very last.
Finally, Su Ming’an’s steps ca to a halt, as the wheelchair was pushed back into the church at this mont, rolling over the blood-soaked red carpet. The warm yellow light of the do fell upon his shoulders and upon the old man in the wheelchair, whose head hung low, making his white hair glow like a ring of sun.
Ming’an’s gaze grew empty before lifting slowly.
This was when he noticed that soldier corpses filled the church, stretching from the entrance to the back room—they must have fought to their last breath to push Sen into the sturdy back room, allowing him to live a few more precious minutes.
Sen’s death held no earth-shattering significance; like the vast majority of ordinary people, he died for every little part of the whole, his life deeply cherished.
He was a microcosm of countless ordinary soldiers.
"..."
Ming’an could not discern the old man’s final expression.
The light was dazzling; Sen Kylstia kept the most upright posture, his back straight, hands crossed over one another, a silver ring with his lover’s na engraved on the unnad finger.
Under the radiant light,
The old man and the hundreds of soldiers that had died around him,
—resembled monunts to humanity.
...
"Ding-dong!"
[You have achieved the character ending for (Sen Kylstia): HE·Monunt]
[(Monunt):
"I have traversed the long passage of ti, witnessed countless deaths, my dark hair turned white by the years."
"From youth to my sixtieth year, I have seen the world change endlessly."
"The immortal Lord of legend stands before ."
"I wish to ask you—"
"How is this world? Is it beautiful? Is it the world you like?"
"Should you feel pleased with it, it would be my highest honor."
"If you lift your eyes to see, to behold the flowers that stretch across the hills and fields."
"You must see,"
"Upon the plain, there stand countless monunts facing toward you. They, like , are filled with joy for this beautiful world."
"May this floral expanse remain forever in your long-lasting mories, may it help you see this beautiful world ever clearer."
"In doing so,"
"Even if one more monunt bearing my na is added amongst them, it would be gratifying."
...
[Main Quest "Revival of All Things" progress (3/8)]
...
[Ring of Ti (Purple Grade) upgraded to lv.6.]
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