Chapter 164: This is the Key to Rebirth.
Chapter 164: This is the Key to Rebirth.
Chapter 164: This Is the Key to Rebirth.
Last night, Yi Fengchu had suggested to Bishop Eric: "You've personally presided over a dozen grand ceremonies. Why not try a new opening sequence this time?"
"For example... have an exact replica of you take the stage to host, then at the end of the speech, set off beautiful fireworks to give all the audience an unexpected surprise."
Thus, under Yi Fengchu's friendly proposal, the scene before Hekate unfolded.
If it were merely a lifelike sculpture crafted by Bishop Eric using the power of [Reshaping], it would only be a hollow imitation.
But when the Lord of Fate personally wove false strands of fate for the sculpture, granting it the illusion of a heartbeat, thoughts, and destiny...
Then it could fool even the observant—at least enough to deceive Hekate's perception and judgment!
How could this be...
Amid the cheering, praying crowd, Hekate remained frozen in her strained upward gaze, her neck stiff and numb, yet her eyes remained locked onto the smiling face in the sky.
The smile on her face could no longer hold, her cheeks flamed with the heat of humiliation.
How could even her luminous emerald motes fail to realize they were multiplying inside an inanimate object?
The one capable of this must be an existence of far higher divinity!
The brand of terror from repeated deaths flared up once more, and Hekate instinctively tried to flee, her body dissolving into a swarming constellation of glowing green dots.
The dots spiraled and danced like fireflies, attempting to slip into the shadowed recesses of mortal minds, hiding fragments of herself in each person's inner world.
Yet, the flow of time congealed around Hekate, as if the air had turned thick as syrup, sealing off all escape routes—from the material world to the mental—trapping her completely...
After all, how could life escape time?
Not even a divine being of the Conspiracy Domain could!
The swirling glow froze midair as a light chuckle sounded behind Hekate, the voice mused with dark amusement:
"Why aren’t you smiling anymore, Hekate?"
"I thought you’d appreciate the unorthodox commencement I designed especially for you."
Yi Fengchu sighed regretfully.
At that moment, just like when Yi Fengchu had previously attempted to kill Hekate, shudders of unreality emanated from the core of the world. The clouds unfurling in the sky, the white doves spreading their wings, the roaring congregation, and Bishop Eric below the stage, stroking his beard, thoroughly pleased as he admired the fireworks—
Everything came to a standstill under the will of the dream's master.
And in the Book of Fate before Meng Siyou, the Fate Alteration Index, after soaring to 85%, began plummeting rapidly.
Lines of golden text were erased, rewritten chapters turned illusory, and Meng Siyou realized in dawning horror:
The false god who constructed this dream was subconsciously rejecting this outcome!
The accumulated fear and submission toward her mother made the canvas-bound echo instinctively believe that Hekate was unassailable...
This deep-rooted logic remained unshaken even in the ephemeral dreamscape.
Thus, when Hekate's conspiracy was thwarted, the canvas-bound echo's first reaction was not relief that the nightmare could finally end, but doubt in the dream's logic—prompting an attempt to correct and restart this "bug."
For a moment, Meng Siyou felt absurdity overwhelm him, nearly barked a hysterical laugh.
How was this even a fight?
In a way, the Hekate of this dream was far more formidable than her real-world counterpart—nigh-invulnerable!
Meng Siyou instinctively turned to seek the prophet's advice or orders, only to find the superior's expression as calm and composed as ever, as if this outcome had long been anticipated.
The prophet lightly tapped the ground with his staff, and an overwhelming pressure surged forth like a breaching tidal wave. An unblemished argent hue spread from the tip of the staff, rapidly claiming half the dreamscape in the blink of an eye.
With their position as the dividing line, half the world was swallowed by pure silver-white—
The vibrant, harmonious sky, wheat fields, and houses were erased, leaving only a divine, untainted brilliance in sight, like snow blanketing the earth.
And at the heart of this boundless silver-white expanse, a needle-like pinnacle rose from the ground.
Encircled by a colossal argent serpent, the white tower resembled the legendary Tower of Babel, ascending from the depths of the earth to pierce the heavens, exuding an aura so majestic it nearly compelled Meng Siyou to prostrate himself in worship.
The serpent coiled around the tower was terrifyingly animate, its gleaming scales imprinting a searing pain in the eyes of onlookers as if branded by celestial fire. Meng Siyou almost believed it to be the true form of some divine being.
Gazing at this silver-white kingdom manifesting within the dream, a piercing klaxon blared incessantly in the depths of Meng Siyou's mind, like countless razor-thin blades scraping against his eardrums.
Under this extreme, primordial dread, his thoughts stuttered before an earth-shattering epiphany struck him—
What had descended upon half the dream seemed to be... the divine kingdom of the great Lord of Fate, King of Snakes, the Narrator!
An overwhelming force poured in from the outside, the collision between the divine kingdom of Fate and the nascent kingdom of the false god sending shockwaves through the dream. Even with Yi Fengchu consciously restraining his power, the canvas-bound echo's dream balanced on the knife's edge of collapse.
Yet, layers upon layers of infinity symbols emerged within the silver-white expanse, drifting like snowflakes across the land, bestowing the concepts of "ouroboric recursion" and "time loops" upon the nascent kingdom—forcing it back from destruction again and again.
The world-core quaked, the sky wailed, as the edges of the two kingdoms clashed, repelled, and merged, until Yi Fengchu pulled them into a delicate stasis between annihilation and rebirth.
Amid the aftershocks of the collision, Meng Siyou clamped his hands over his ears, eyes squeezed shut as he curled into a fetal curl, his thoughts unraveling.
He thought—the prophet could summon a divine kingdom? Was He truly the same "prophet" he had first met?
Only a True God could wield such a vast, concept-wrought divine kingdom!
At this realization, Meng Siyou's every hair stood erect, cold sweat drenching him.
His neck stiff, he turned slightly toward the prophet—no, the Narrator—before freezing again under consuming terror.
So... when had this deity's true form descended upon the phantom of the past?
How long had he stood unwittingly in the presence of a True God?
Meng Siyou frantically combed through his recollections, certain he had always been cautious—had he ever acted disrespectfully before the Narrator?
Yi Fengchu had no time to dwell on Meng Siyou's shock. Maintaining the balance between the two kingdoms was like threading a cosmic needle, demanding absolute precision. There was no time to waste.
A thick argent serpent slithered out from beneath His cloak, detaching itself from His form before transforming into a crescent-shaped dagger, luminous as lunar essence, in His palm.
Lowering His golden eyes, Yi Fengchu offered the blade to Ernos, who stared back in bewildered awe, and spoke:
"This nightmare has lasted far too long."
"I grant you the blade to cleave this wheel of suffering, and a chance to forge a fresh destiny."
The deity's sigh was transcendent, as if resonating through temporal veils, yet it struck Ernos' heart with physical weight, sending ripples through her soul.
Yi Fengchu surmised that no outsider could strike down the unconquerable figure in the dream-echo's fundament within this dream. —Except for Ernos, who represented a shard of its cognizance, held fractured sovereignty over the dream, and was both bound to and distinct from it.
The Fate said with a light chuckle, "Now, you can choose to raise this blade and break the cycle of tragedy, or you can choose to set it down and fall forever into nightmares' embrace."
"I await your choice."
Ernos's gaze fell upon the moonlit blade, her pupils quivering slightly as if locked in fierce inner conflict.
Could she... could she truly have the right to choose?
She was merely just a wisp of childhood consciousness separated from the painting's reflection, always just an NPC drifting through nightmares, replaying tragedies with fixed endings...
So, could she also possess the power to make her own choice and, in place of the main consciousness, bring the dream to an end?
After an immeasurable time, Ernos suddenly moved.
With something like reverence, she cupped the blade in both hands. The divine weapon felt preternaturally cold, as if forged from the purest ice atop the highest mountain. This chill pierced through the physical and resonated deep within her soul, making her shoulders tremble. Yet she gripped the dagger tightly, refusing to let go.
The crescent-shaped blade was razor-sharp. A few strands of Ernos's silver-white hair, having brushed against its edge, were cleanly severed and drifted lightly to the ground.
Ernos realized this blade was not merely sharp in the mundane sense—it bore the conceptual power of "severing" from the moment of its forging.
All things, once touched by its edge, would be irreversibly split apart. Even flowing water could never merge again.
Clutching the dagger, Ernos felt as though she held a crescent of moonlight in her palm. The cold emanating from the blade into her soul precisely shocked her out of her numb stupor, reminding her—
She was alive. She still had the strength to raise the blade. She could still let out her first cry since birth!
Under the silent gaze and encouragement of Fate, Ernos slowly came before the glowing sea. The glowing green dots, seeing no escape, coalesced into the form of Hekate.
"Ern..."
Calling her daughter's nickname sorrowfully, the mother's eyelids brimmed with glistening tears for the first time, like an overwhelming flood of motherly love.
"Do you truly intend to point this blade at the mother who has always supported you, cared for you, and loved you?"
"I picked the perfect moment to meet your father, all to prepare for your birth;
I spent eight long years nurturing the frail flame in the crucible, to ensure your healthy, perfect birth;
I abandoned the familiar jungles of my past, putting down roots and flourishing in the cracks of hard bricks, just to witness your growth every step of the way..."
Trapped in the cage of time, Hekate behaved like any loving mother, dabbing at her tears with heartfelt emotion. "Even today, though you may not understand what I'm doing, you must believe everything I do is for our future!"
"You grew from my blood—this is the bond that forever ties us together. And now, do you truly wish to sever this bond, leaving yourself alone to face a world immense and terrifying?"
Ernos's lips trembled, her violet eyes filling with sorrow and longing.
"Mom..."
Her grip on the blade loosened slightly, as if wavering. Wordlessly, she opened her arms and flung herself into her mother's arms.
Hekate gently stroked her daughter's silver hair, her eyes still filled with love and sorrow, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward for a fleeting moment.
Spinning webs from the emotions of the human heart—this was what the Conspiracy Domain's Ability users excelled at.
In that moment of embrace, Hekate's heart calmed somewhat. With almost arrogant confidence, she believed Ernos had returned to her control.
All that remained was to use Ernos to stall that powerful figure from the Fate Domain, buying time to find an escape...
Hekate's thoughts snapped suddenly.
Her pupils contracted violently as she looked down in disbelief. The silver crescent blade had pierced straight through her back and out her chest, leaving only the barest tip visible.
The blade seemed to pass through Hekate's very soul, making her feel like she were irreversibly moving toward death. The glowing green dots representing her essence began to dim, and the moss composing her body withered.
"Mom," Ernos murmured, still buried in Hekate's embrace like a child seeking her mother's breast—though what dripped onto her face was only crimson blood. She smiled, as if relieved. "Mom... so you can bleed too."
"I love you too. It's just... I no longer dare to believe in the love and future you promise."
Ernos tightened her grip on the divine blade—the only thing left to hold.
—This was the blade to end the cycle. This was the blade to sever fate. This was...
The key to rebirth.
Ernos clutched this "key," using it to open a new chapter of fate, finding her way to the nightmare's heart where the painting's reflection lay.