Chapter 308: Mythology

Chapter 308: Mythology

In Northland City, Zoya felt restless. Bran said he needed to take Huahua to handle some matters. Bran still looked carefree as ever, but she felt a heavy pressure.

He said he was taking Huahua, but after looking around, she couldn’t find where Huahua was hidden. Bran took the chance to pat her head and said, half-joking, half-serious, “Grow up quickly. I need your help.”

“Where are you going? I can help you right now.”

When she said this very confidently, Bran shook his head and changed the subject. “Well then, listen to Danny while I’m away and guard our home well.”

She didn’t know what Bran told Danny, but Danny’s face gradually grew gloomy. Only the safety of Bran and Huahua could make Danny so tense, so she guessed what Bran was planning to do. It was indeed very dangerous and not something she could be part of.

In that moment, Zoya understood that Bran truly hoped she would grow up and become his capable helper. In the current situation, the Northlands seemed detached from worldly affairs, but in reality, they were surrounded by enemies on all sides.

When Danny had everyone tend to the horses, the Ancient Tree’s intake and release of Mana also began to slow.

The construction at the White Robes’ base was still in full swing, but Pachu and Baz were clearly distracted.

The city was currently relaxed on the surface but tense underneath; both of them had also received orders. Pachu was ordered to gather the Wizards in the city and be ready to follow Danny’s arrangements at any time. Baz was ordered to act with the White Robes.

Having lost the heart for work, the two began to focus on what interested them most. Baz started to look down at his own body, feeling the changes within.

Earlier, Bran had suddenly approached him and told him the final moment had arrived. When he prepared nervously for a new life, Bran gave him a suggestion. A suggestion that could allow him to keep his physical body.

At the same time, Bran reminded him there might be some side effects because he, as a Mortal, had little affinity with Mana and no natural mechanism to circulate Mana within him. Also, the Soul needed the Flame of Life to bind it to the body, and his Flame of Life had already begun to weaken, so it was uncertain whether Mana could reignite his Flame of Life.

Baz only asked what would happen if he failed. Bran pointed in the direction of Sandstone City, a bodiless member of The Dead. Hearing this answer, Baz didn’t mind anymore, because he had never really hoped for the Immortality of the flesh.

Everything after that went fairly smoothly. At least, that’s how it seemed to Baz.

Looking around now felt like looking through a barely noticeable layer of crystal. Although things were still clear, that sense of separation lingered.

Pachu observed the whole process but was utterly confused. In his view, Bran had very roughly strangled Baz to death. Maybe the killing wasn’t thorough enough, because after a while, the old man Baz started breathing again.

Was that it? Full of questions, Pachu felt Baz all over, completely ignoring his protests and struggles. How to put it… Baz’s body was slowly absorbing Mana.

He looked at Bran, wanting to understand. Bran asked him, “How small is the small in your heart? How big is the big in your eyes?”

Pachu thought for a long time. First, he pointed to the ever-present fine dust around them, then he pointed to the ground beneath his feet.

Bran looked at him. “There exists a World beyond your imagination, vast and boundless. This is but insignificant dust beside the Starry Sky. I don’t know how small this World is, nor how big it is, but I know it has no end.”

“Is he considered Immortal now?” Pachu asked the question he cared about most.

“I don’t know. His Flame of Life is too weak. Perhaps we can observe further only when his Flame of Life goes out and his Soul leaves his body.”

“What is the Flame of Life?”

“I’m not sure either, but I can see it. It’s a glow, a power radiating from the flesh. It blocks the prying eyes of you and me; it’s the body’s barrier against Mana. It has many other uses I don’t fully understand, but only living creatures possess this glow.”

“Does he have it too?” Pachu pointed at Baz, wanting to confirm again.

“Yes.”

“Then is he dead, or alive?”

“Alive, I suppose. Let’s consider him alive.” Bran wasn’t too sure either. “His heart is still beating, and his blood is still flowing.”

Listening to the conversation, Baz felt something was off. The explanation about the Flame of Life made him more conflicted the more he thought about it. Bran must have run into big trouble, which was why he completed their agreement ahead of time.

But where would he go from here?

The City of Wisdom recorded many unknown secrets. He had acted based only on fragmented legends. And he truly wanted to attain Immortality; pledging allegiance to a new Deity under the premise of Immortality wasn’t a bad thing. Even if he guessed wrong, he had still gained the Immortality he wanted most.

Legend said that once, immortal Deities lived on the Continent, before whom Mortals were mere ants. Baz used to think that was just the imagination of ignorant people, until Bran and his Sister appeared before the world.

That was when he suddenly realized why there was a seemingly stubborn rule in the tradition—mythology was the first lesson for enlightenment.

No one took it seriously. At least, generations of Scholars never paid attention to this rule. Most handled it perfunctorily, spending very little time telling the stories. And when children, curious and yearning after hearing the stories, asked further questions, they were mostly scolded, ending the queries. But that mythological story, which sparked their curiosity, took firm root in their memories.

During that time, many people searched through dusty libraries for those legends. With real-life references, comparison and verification became possible. Previously unshakeable beliefs were gradually shattered. Even among the Scholars, known for their rationality, some began to panic. From disbelief to blind belief, in a short time, the City of Wisdom became somewhat disordered.

The High Tower rising in Northland City further confirmed the credibility of the myths and legends. That was why he could quickly gather nearby Scholars and maintain his influence.

The story said that the Gods did not care about worldly wealth and power. They cared more about the stability of their people and the balance of the world. They gathered the most loyal people around them to carry out their will in the mortal world. Back then, the Continent was thriving…

But the ending of the story was sad. Deities from two factions went to war. Neither side achieved final victory. A group of evil beings hiding in the shadows ambushed them.

They plundered everything from the Gods, slaughtered all their loyal followers, and proudly returned, holding the corpses of the Gods high. Without the Gods’ favor, the Continent fell silent and began to wither.

But hope always remained. A Deity had prophesied its own fall and foretold that the Continent would inevitably give birth to new Deities, and that Evil Gods would come because of it…

The story said this was an endless cycle, but the story did not tell the outcome of this cycle.