When the plot-skips players into the game world Chapter 1406 - 117: 100,000 Years of Rambling

Accompanied by the call of the Serpent Celestial Marshal, a grand and sacred consciousness gradually peeled away from the depths of the Serpent Celestial Marshal’s heart, and a voice as lancholic as a poet’s resonated at his core:

"Whether it’s him or you... why are you always so cold and stubborn? Why reject my gift? Why torture yourself to such an extent? Abandon your loved ones, abandon eternity, abandon everything... and for what, to have the world perish with your capriciousness?

"I shall bring you all the mysteries of the universe, the truth of all things! Don’t you want to know how to return ho? Don’t you want to know what this world is made of? Don’t you want to know how to travel across worlds to another? Don’t you want to know the origins and the end of civilization?

"I know all of this, and you will too. It’s rely a trifling cost, and that’s to coexist with ... my friend, the parasites within your body number in the billions! Every cell of a mortal contains countless lives, what’s the harm in adding one more of !?"

"Saying this is useless, why not sit happily with in this prison cell."

The Serpent Celestial Marshal sneered, "From the mont you first attempted to rewrite my will and were caught by , I could never trust a single word you say again."

"We—we have never altered any host’s consciousness! We only provide ’possibilities’, a possibly better way of thinking, we have witnessed the birth and demise of countless civilizations..."

The Void Whisper continued to murmur in the heart of the Serpent Celestial Marshal, but he had already closed his eyes, leaning back, and forcefully hurled the cola in his hand directly at the screen.

"—Shut up."

He reopened his eyes, in his cold and rciless pupils, the dull yellow had completely faded: "Give liberty, or give death."

With his uncooperative stance, the voice in his heart once again dissipated.

The Serpent Celestial Marshal did not know, the next thought to surface from his mind... would it be his true self, or a rewritten notion. If the rewrite were subtle enough, he wouldn’t even notice. And perhaps, with such accumulation in bits and pieces... it would gradually change him into another self.

By then, would he still be himself?

... But if just to prevent himself from becoming another self, he severs his own emotions, directly turning into another self, would it not be...

"—I said, shut up!"

The Serpent Celestial Marshal violently picked up the cola cup and hurled it towards the screen that had just been smashed yet instantly regenerated.

Watching the screen shatter and then restore again, the Serpent Celestial Marshal panted, his thoughts gradually surfacing:

... He was once not such a person prone to rage.

But amidst ten thousand years of failure and tornt, in a long span of ten thousand years of introspection and reincarnation... even his patience and love had long been worn away.

He had already forgotten the na of Amber. Just like he had forgotten his affection from those years.

Seeing Aiwass’s happiness at marriage pierced him with a prickle. Yet on the contrary, that heartache made him feel the realness of being alive.

Now, he even doubted... whether he ever truly loved Amber? Or perhaps, was that from the beginning a lie that deceived himself? Was it rely because after coming to this world he felt too lonely, and so...

"—Shut up!!"

The Serpent Celestial Marshal’s angry voice, lonely, echoed at the absolute end of the uninhabited world.

Here, his words wouldn’t contaminate anyone.

This was his "ho", and also his self-imposed prison.

But only one thought could make the Serpent Celestial Marshal sure—without the Void Whisper’s pollution, he could still understand one fact.

... He might not hold out for much longer.

The more he watched Aiwass grow, the more he watched the plan progress step by step... the more he saw the Reincarnation’s End approaching, even his heart couldn’t help but grow anxious. Only in these monts did he wish his humanity weren’t so active.

He might not hold out for much longer.

He might not hold out for much longer.

You might not hold out for much longer.

I might not hold out much longer...

"Shut up..."

The Serpent Celestial Marshal sighed, wearily closing his eyes, pressing his hand to his forehead: "Fine, suit yourself then."

He no longer had a human body.

Such an action was utterly futile for him, rely a reliance on such "habits" to maintain the vitality in his mory, preventing the "knowledge" silently inserted by the Void Whisper from polluting him into another person.

He might have already been silently filled with countless false mories. Just like he didn’t know if Amber had ever truly existed...

"Tsk..."

The very mont such a thought surfaced in his mind, the Serpent Celestial Marshal clicked his tongue in irritation.

——Is today never going to end?

Aiwass guessed my plan, does that really excite you so much? Such thoughts that he can easily discern as true or false are now completely aningless. More like a provocation than an infection...

And on the screen of the Serpent Celestial Marshal, Aiwass was conversing with Hebashia.

The miracle of resurrection by Hebashia has finally been achieved—

——It truly is a miracle.

Unlike the Amber Master, who simply crafts an entirely new body; nor like Aiwass’s Son of Si Zhu form, which uses ultimate healing ability to restore a corpse to a living being.

But rather, allowing a person who died two thousand years ago to be resurrected, reappearing in the world two thousand years later!

It’s not healing, nor preservation, but complete "creation"—using pure spells to conjure a brand-new body from thin air, granting the other full life.

This technique is sowhat similar to the Swampfolk... A thought suddenly flashed through Aiwass’s mind.

Revived Krokos slowly opened her eyes.

She looked at everything before her in confusion, embraced by the excited Hebashia.

Krokos is a young female elf who appears to be in her twenties, standing over two ters tall, even taller than so surveillance caras.

She has long pink-purple hair—her hair is pink on the outside and purple on the inside, clearly a result of so special heritage... At least her parents shouldn’t have this hair color.

It is said Hebashia once had tea-colored hair, and Sherlock now has black hair. So, the original Hers might also have had black hair...

Krokos held Hebashia, at a loss for what to do—it was as if she didn’t recognize the girl in her arms, yet the emotions conveyed through her cries were so real at this mont.

But when her bewildered eyes swept over Aiwass and Sherlock, she suddenly froze.

She looked at Sherlock in astonishnt, but quickly realized she had mistaken the person; then she imdiately looked at Aiwass, her gaze pinned to the antlers on Aiwass’s head.

Krokos was startled, hurriedly breaking free from Hebashia’s embrace, placing her right hand over her heart and half-kneeling on the ground, speaking respectfully in Elvish Language: "In the nas of Sunrise, Fiery Fire, and Cinnabar, three tis I worship the guiltless. I seek the presence of the halo, Son of Si Zhu."

"——You are pardoned."

Aiwass, knowing this is the Elf etiquette from a moon calendar ago, quickly responded after a brief recollection.

"Krokos has successfully resurrected."

He slightly raised the corners of his mouth and softly said to Hebashia, "So now... Lady Haibasha, your commission to has been completely fulfilled."

Hearing Aiwass’s words to the young elf girl, Krokos was greatly surprised.

She looked carefully at Hebashia, trying to find even a trace of her mother’s features...

And Hebashia naturally knew that Aiwass deliberately ntioned her na to remind Krokos of her identity—while also using the identity of Son of Si Zhu to vouch for herself.

So Hebashia gratefully nodded to Aiwass: "Thank you..."

"Just right," Aiwass seized the opportunity to say, "I have sothing to ask you as well—this matter may only be accomplished by an Angel Envoy of the Path of Wisdom."

"Feel free to ntion it," Hebashia imdiately replied, "as long as it’s within my capacity, I will prioritize fulfilling it for you."

Watching the young girl’s tear-filled eyes and hoarse sobs speaking to him this way, Aiwass had an inexplicable sense of guilt for a mont—as if he were bullying a child.

Aiwass shook his head to dispel the strange thought in his heart, then opened the briefcase, placing the handle of the Red-Handled Sword—the key to the small chapel, and the Holy Sword Clarent, in front of Hebashia: "This is the Red-Handled Sword, inside it resides the soul of a Sun Knight. I hope you can transplant the knight’s soul from inside it to this Holy Sword ’Clarent’ without damage..."

Aiwass was talking when he keenly noticed Hebashia’s surprised look towards the Red-Handled Sword.

He imdiately stopped speaking and asked in so confusion, "What’s wrong?"

"This sword..."

Hebashia looked uncertainly for a long while, then looked at Sherlock and Krokos: "It seems... it is the Golden Sword that Hers gifted to Heracles."

"——It was forged by the Fla Celestial Marshal, called Marmituva."

Krokos imdiately responded: "I rember clearly—the na of this sword ans ’Marble Tablet,’ and also has the connotation of ’Fate as Hard as Stone.’ It amplifies the holder’s arrogance and violent tendencies, and only the most pure or most fallen person can wield it.

"At that ti, Heracles was about to embark on the Argo Expedition, so he sought strength from his father. His father gave it to Heracles as a joke, and also as a test."

Upon hearing this, Aiwass suddenly realized.

——So the Red-Handled Sword is Heracles’s Golden Sword!