Yarra’s Adventure Notes Chapter 1375 - 1375 161 Mil's Story

1375: Chapter 161 Mil’s Story 1375: Chapter 161 Mil’s Story Yes, the atmosphere indeed wasn’t suitable for a welco party, and the reason naturally was due to the poor goblin sage, Mil, or rather, his undead.

Mil was in pain at that mont.

In his life, he lived during the most splendid era of the goblins, when the entire race had once, with the power of technology, trampled over the entire Yarran World, despised all knowledge outside of technology, arrogantly ignored the deities’ goodwill and warnings, arrogantly played with life and reshaped it, and even usurped the deities’ authority to create life.

For this, they even dared to mimic the Triclops and wage war against the deities.

He had once been one of the highest authorities of his race, the most powerful being amongst them.

But when the deities unleashed Divine Punishnt, everything ceased to exist—powerful technology, glorious history, abundant knowledge, all turned into epheral wind, dissipated in the River of Ti, never to be retrieved.

Likewise, when Divine Punishnt struck, billions of goblins lost their lives in an instant, and even in death, they didn’t understand what had happened.

There was nothing that could save the dead goblins; the world-changing technology couldn’t save them, the ticulously prepared underground shelters couldn’t save them, and not even the most powerful sage, Mil, could save them.

Under the wrath of the deities, the goblins could only face death.

Of course, while the powerful sage Mil couldn’t save his entire race, he could save himself.

As a goblin mage who had ascended from a frail body to beco a demigod, his soul was incredibly strong.

A soul attack targeted at the racial group was not intense enough to destroy his soul.

The powerful sage Mil could have beco a survivor, struggling to live amidst the catastrophe like others in history had done before.

However, he did sothing, sothing that couldn’t be judged as right or wrong.

Feeling his soul being impacted, seeing people dying around him, and realizing this was a form of Divine Punishnt, his first move was to deploy his Inherent Psychic Domain and pulled over half of the personnel in the underground shelter into it.

This instinctive action allowed him and those gobbies to live two minutes longer than most goblins, and then, he died.

Originally, a soul attack designed for thousands continuously collided against his Inherent Psychic Domain, ford of soul and will, similar to a miniature Divine Kingdom, and sustaining for two minutes was indeed sothing he could pride himself on.

However, that was all he could do, ultimately nothing changed, everyone died after him, there were no survivors, while a small fraction that he hadn’t pulled in, included a few who were lucky enough to live on.

Living two minutes longer than others might not have been lucky for Mil but rather a misfortune because, during those two minutes, he could only painfully taste anger, unwillingness, detestation, and regret.

He was conscious, the only goblin who had a premonition before the disaster, he was powerful, the only contemporary demigod sage, but his consciousness, his power, could save no one, not a single person, including himself.

In those last two minutes, his heart was filled with hatred—hate for his own feeble powerlessness, hate for the rulers’ arrogant conceit, hate for his race’s greed in pursuing eternal life, hate for Sigein who held out hope for immortality, and of course, most of all, hate for the deities who had unleashed Divine Punishnt, although he also knew, this was war, a war between mortals and deities, and the side that initiated the war had no right to hate.

But still, he couldn’t stop his own vehent hatred, and then, with endless hatred, he t his death.

When he awoke once more, he had beco an agonized undead.

Although still mighty, the icy chill of death instantly eroded his soul.

Cold was his only sensation during the mont of revival—so cold that it brought pain, so cold that it drove one mad.

However, the cold soon dissipated.

The warm “Light of the Spirit” from the center of the Realm of the Dead shone over every corner of the earth, dispelling his cold and warming his soul.

The warm, benevolent, and loving “Light of the Spirit”, like a lighthouse in the darkness, drew Mil—having forgotten most of his mories from life and in a haze—step by step toward that spiritual light.

As one of the earliest Necromancers to be resurrected, Mil found the world of death sparsely populated with undead beings upon his revival; finding a kindred spirit was as difficult as finding a specific grain of sand on a beach.

It was only when he neared the source of the “Light of the Spirit” that he encountered other undead beings, the pioneers and companions, including the not-yet-nad King of the Undead, the once supre Saen, the Triclops Shiela, and so of the current leaders in attendance.

By that ti, Mil, after thousands of years of slumber, had forgotten much, even forgetting the existence of Sigein, the Life Science Research Center, and the “Rebirth Plan”.

However, he had not forgotten the hatred in his heart—hatred toward himself, Sigein, and the deities.

Thus, upon seeing Shiela, he launched an attack without surprise, channeling his hatred for Sigein onto her.

Mil was very powerful in life and remained so after becoming an undead.

Being a leader alongside Shiela and Saen was proof enough of his strength.

So, when he attacked, even Shiela of the Triclops had to cautiously deal with it despite her bafflent.

However, Mil’s attack did not touch Shiela’s spirit form, because Saen, who was with Shiela at the ti, simply waved his hand casually and blocked Mil’s rushed but unexpected attack, simultaneously knocking him away.

This left an indelible impression on the goblin sage and was the reason why Mil, among the leaders, ignored everyone except Saen, whom he treated with great caution and respect.

Only after being knocked away did Mil realize that he had beco an undead, but he also learned of a reality that he absolutely could not accept: his regaining consciousness had been influenced by the will of a deity.

This was a truly despairing reality.

Moreover, he then realized that the “Light of the Spirit” was not re firelight; in fact, it was divine radiance, the selfless deity that had roused him, warming all those tornted by the cold of death.

From the divine radiance, Mil felt nothing but selflessness, benevolence, and gentleness.

Faced with such warmth, Mil found it impossible to harbor hatred toward the deity.

However, instinctively within his consciousness, he still felt compelled to hate, creating a contradictory internal conflict.

This nearly shattered his newly revived soul once more, until a long ti later, Mil finally buried his past hatred in the deepest recesses of his heart and slowly began to accept the deity that was warming him.