Chapter 165: The Next Story, Explore It When We Meet Again～

Chapter 165 The story continues... we'll explore it when fate permits~

The silver snake transformed into a curved blade, which Ernos plunged into her mother's chest, like a key sliding into its lock, unlocking the dream world’s true core before everyone's eyes.

The bustling scenes of the Harvest Season compressed into a vast, hyper-detailed oil painting depicting all things in the world.

Yi Fengchu raised his hand and gently touched the giant painting that stood between heaven and earth, his fingertips tinged with swirling, vivid hues.

He didn’t dislike such a beautiful manifestation of power, but once in his hands, these colors lost their ability to reshape, turning into ordinary pigments.

He sighed, faintly disappointed, then raised his cane and cut a person-sized slit in the canvas, splitting the kaleidoscope of colors cleanly, much like Moses parting the sea in Earth's mythology.

Yi Fengchu stepped through the canvas first, followed closely by Meng Siyou and Ernos, as though roused from a trance.

Behind the dazzling array of colors lay a wasteland veiled in darkness, where the transparent, pale souls of those who had died during the Harvest Season wandered aimlessly, their expressions blank with bewilderment.

Among these wandering spirits, Meng Siyou caught sight of several familiar figures—

Mrs. Ethel’s neck was wrenched sideways at a sickening angle, her head lolling grotesquely from her neck;

Anna’s eyes had been gouged out, leaving only gaping, blood-crusted hollows as she blindly moved in one direction;

And then there was "Meng Na," the identity Meng Siyou was currently using—a girl described by her mother as delicate as a little angel, now seared past all semblance of humanity, her body covered in blisters of varying sizes...

Yi Fengchu’s gaze swept over these silent spirits. He compressed his lips in silence and continued forward.

Meng Siyou followed the Narrator’s footsteps in silence, threading between the ashen, restless dead.

For a moment, he felt as though he were moving through stage curtains fallen after tragedy’s last act, touching nothing but the chill embers of spent sorrow.

The barren land offered no shelter, and the group soon reached the end of this world—

There stood a picture frame glowing like molten gold.

Seven enormous chisels were jaggedly embedded in the frame, their sharp blades piercing through the chest, head, and limbs of a dark shadow, pinning it tightly against the frame, crucified against the frame.

The figure was entirely swallowed by tarry darkness, save for the crown atop its head, which still burned with undimmed radiance.

This powerful yet sinful crown was sintered from stolen spires, plundered wealth, and extinguished lives of the entire territory—its framework faintly revealing the spires of churches, the castles of ducal estates, and countless humble dwellings of commoners.

Staring at the crown for a few seconds, one could see countless screaming faces warping beneath the gemstones, among them many Meng Siyou had once known.

This was the master of the dream, the Painting’s Reflection...

Ernos looked up at the figure, her face still stained with her mother’s blood, her features mirroring its anguish.

Both born of the same origin, she understood better than anyone that the Painting’s Reflection was clinging by fraying threads.

Thieved glory demands blood tribute.

When that time came, the dream world would collapse alongside the outlines of the territory on the crown, becoming a burial offering as the Reflection’s divine soul scattered.

Yi Fengchu, too, saw how the Reflection hovered at death’s threshold. It seemed that bearing the power of the Nature Sculptor in a mortal form had placed a marrow-deep curse upon it—the foreign power within it ceaselessly seethed and shrieked without respite, acid-etched its very essence, leaving it covered in scars.

Gold eyes weighed the false god as he sighed. "Painting’s Reflection... what splinters of self still remain?"

"......"

This was the first time any living being had peeled back the dream’s veils and come face-to-face with the Reflection.

For a fleeting moment, the Reflection’s consciousness, eroded over countless years, flickered briefly into focus.

A wet, broken sound leaked from its throat, as if it had regained some ability to speak.

"Master!"

Ernos was the first to be unable to contain her surging emotions. She surged forward, eager to share the good news with her other self: "Blessed be fate’s sharp gift—I finally found the steel to kill the cage that trapped us time and again in this nightmare!"

"The nightmare... has finally come to an end."

Joy carved salt trails down Ernos’ face, her voice trembling slightly. "Even our clung-to griefs must fade... We can finally embrace a new life—"

"Kill me."

The Reflection’s voice was weak, yet it rang across the wastes like a death knell.

Ernos’ hope shattered like dropped glass. Her lips trembled unconsciously as she stared in disbelief at the shadow pinned to the frame.

"Please... kill me."

Clearly, the Reflection could no longer hear the outside world. Its consciousness had nearly been eroded to a whisper by eternity’s torment, leaving only a desperate yet lucid thought—

It was imploring every soul present to end its life and suffering once and for all.

Ernos was drowned in formless panic. Instinctively, she turned to the God of Fate, who had granted her the blade and promised her a new life, revealing a child’s unthinking faith.

"Each life walks its ordained path. I will not interfere with your choices."

After a pause, Yi Fengchu calmly asked, "But did you kill your mother’s phantom and come all this way just to seek such an ending of destruction?"

Ernos opened her mouth, her reflexive protest dying unspoken: But if the one who created her had already chosen destruction, what choice did she have left?

Before the words could leave her lips, the blade’s divine frost in her hand spread through her body once more, piercing her soul and crystallizing her resolve.

She realized that the benevolent deity was willing to grant her a chance at rebirth—that the story of her master, the Painting’s Reflection, had irreversibly reached its end. But her fate had not.

At this moment, fate had placed the power of choice equally before her and her master. The master had pressed the button of destruction without hesitation... but what about her?

She was no longer represented by her master, no longer controlled by anyone else. Fate awaited her answer—her answer alone.

A new fire kindled deep in Ernos’ eyes, like the first glow of dawn breaking through a darkened sky, heralding the start of a new day and the rebirth of all things.

"I..."

Hesitating at first, Ernos’ voice grew firm. Steel kissed her palm, yet it gave her a warrior’s certainty.

"I will take upon myself all of my master’s regrets, pain, and burdens."

She gazed at the blighted earth and the countless lost souls wandering upon it, vowing word by word: "I will pay any price to carry forward the people and things it cherished but could not save, walking the road it faltered on."

She no longer wanted to be trapped in nightmares or imprisoned by the past—

This time, Ernos yearned to chase the future.

Fate’s brow dipped once, his inscrutable expression revealing nothing of whether this outcome pleased him or not.

In the next moment, the silver cane adorned with a serpent suddenly pierced through the figure on the frame, petrifying the pretender in eternal stasis.

Like plucking a weighty fruit from a tree, Yi Fengchu reached out and removed the crown from the reflection in the painting, giving it a couple of light tosses and weighing it in his hand.

The crown rose and fell in His palm as if it were merely a trivial plaything to be tossed aside at will.

For a fleeting moment, Yi Fengchu did think of the unfortunate Nature Sculptor who had lost fragments of his divine authority, but...

What did it matter to Him if the other failed to safeguard his own domain?

Did He look like some charitable saint of a god who would return lost fragments of power for free?

Now that the authority fragment had fallen into His hands, though "Reconstruction" and "Fate" don’t mesh well—with no natural affinity between the two domains—it still felt like a loss to just hand it back to another god for free...

If the Nature Sculptor wanted his power back, he could come in person with sincerity and beg for His permission!

Thus, after only a moment’s thought, Yi Fengchu smiled and said to Ernos:

"Perhaps my Divine Throne still lacks a few Attendant Deities to serve?"

After a stunned pause, Ernos immediately knelt in a posture of reverence, lowering her head submissively, her silver hair cascading to the ground.

"To serve You is my highest honor and ultimate purpose."

Gently pressing her forehead to the ground before the deity, Ernos steadying her voice despite its grateful tremor, and swore with utmost gravity:

"I shall proclaim and hymn Your name across the mortal world, within paintings, and through the endless void—countless times."

The deity smiled in approval, and the crown silently slipped from His fingertips.

Thus was an Attendant Deity born beneath the mantle of Fate.

Meanwhile, the Book of Fate rustled feverishly as it flipped before Meng Siyou, inscribing the final chapter:

"Here, there are no radiant halls of glory, no celestial symphonies—yet under fate’s witness, a deity personally crowns His servant."

"May His deeds and glory endure unto eternity."

As a bystander, Meng Siyou couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement, his heart pounding in his chest.

He wondered—had he just witnessed the entire process of an Attendant Deity’s birth, from submission to coronation under the Lord of Fate?

From this moment on, even when the mystical world spoke of the domain of Reconstruction, it could no longer ignore the Narrator’s looming presence... Silent and unseen, He stood behind the scenes, yet quietly held sway over the discourse of multiple domains!

To be the sole spectator of the exchange of divine authority and a coronation among deities—what staggering fortune!

Just as Meng Siyou thought he was done here and he could quietly wait for the instance to end, the Narrator suddenly turned His gaze toward him.

"Wu Suer, you completed your task with greater efficiency than I anticipated. This time, what reward do you seek?"

Under the deity’s focused gaze, Meng Siyou stood frozen, utterly at a loss.

The spectral figure of the prophet emerged from the depths of his mind, giving a reassuring pat to his stiffened shoulder.

The white-haired, golden-eyed priest, cradling the golden chalice that held the heart, answered the deity’s question bluntly: "I seek a fate of true, unfettered freedom, and a body identical to my past one—one that is perfectly attuned to my soul."

For a deity, the prophet’s tone and attitude were anything but reverent, which made Meng Siyou tense.

Fortunately, the Narrator didn’t seem to mind, inclining His head with casual magnanimity. "It shall be done—Ernos, the task of Reconstruction shall be entrusted to you."

"Your will is my command."

Suddenly recalling something, the Narrator added, "You may also begin crafting bodies for the souls wandering the wasteland—I shall grant them new threads of fate."

After a brief pause, Ernos couldn’t suppress the joy lifting the corners of her lips. "Praise Your mercy!"

She bowed deeply to her master, then offered the prophet a timid smile. "Mr. Wu Suer, it would be my honor to serve you. Should you have any questions or requests, please do not hesitate to inform me."

The priest glanced at her and quipped, "Even if I asked to borrow your crown, you’d agree?"

Ernos looked bewildered, cautiously studying her master’s expression before carefully replying, "In essence, this fragment of authority is the Lord’s gift, trophy, and possession—I merely hold it in stewardship. So long as the Lord has no objection, neither do I..."

"If the Lord permits, I could hand the crown to you now, should you need it."

After staring at Ernos for a few seconds, the prophet concluded her words were sincere and waved a dismissive hand and drawled, "I wouldn’t know how to use Reconstruction power—keep it for now."

Yi Fengchu thought with satisfaction—successfully acquiring a dutiful little workhorse... no, an Attendant Deity.

Perhaps He could now offload the tedious prayers from believers—about building churches, crafting idols, and such—onto Ernos, freeing up Himself and His clones?

This way, His avatars wouldn’t have to be on call 24/7, 365 days a year!

Nearby, Meng Siyou made himself as inconspicuous as possible, silently musing:

*It seems Mr. Narrator and the prophet seemed to be on surprisingly good terms.*

*Otherwise, given the Narrator’s seemingly easygoing yet inherently dominant nature, He wouldn’t have let the prophet poke fun at His Attendant Deity like this, would He?*

He even felt the prophet had received an unthinkable leniency...

If possible, Meng Siyou would have loved to linger and observe further, absorbing the esoteric knowledge these High Beings inadvertently revealed—like a parched sponge.

Unfortunately, the moment the instance’s countdown ended, the long-dormant system pinpointed Meng Siyou and whisked him back to his original world.

Before the teleportation, the Book of Fate almost deliberately dangled a carrot before him:

"Having taken the false god of Reconstruction as His Attendant Deity, Mr. ■■■’s next move is to turn His gaze upon the age-old syndicate ruling the painted reflections."

"Alas, it seems you weren’t invited to this script..."

"Should fate allow, perhaps you’ll explore the rest of the tale another time~"

Meng Siyou: "."

If they weren’t going to reveal it to him or let him participate, why dangle the beginning before his eyes?

He could practically taste the thick layer of a downright sadistic sense of humor emanating from a book!