Chapter 1567: The God’s Lament
As the Lady of Night’s words fell into the still air, the towering throne around her seemed to dim gradually—an invisible pressure, like the onset of nightfall, spread throughout the space. It stretched from the pale gray sky’s zenith all the way to the jagged spires of the Nightfall City on the border. Yet when High Lord gazed upward, he realized this “darkening” was merely an illusion; the pale light still bathed the land, and the Lady’s gaze, descending from the clouds, remained calm and detached.
Her final question echoed in his mind.
“Do you intend to pray to the true gods?”
After a brief moment of daze and reflection, he understood that her words carried a deeper meaning. The ancient god was not merely asking if he would pray—she was asking if they truly sought salvation from Her.
High Lord fell silent, and this time his silence stretched long. He had been ready to leave this shadowy divine realm, to end this extraordinary meeting. But minutes later, he suddenly sat down—right there on the ground before the Lady’s throne, straddling the boundary between the gray-white desert and the weathered, towering altar. He let the fine dust swirl around him in the wind and slowly lifted his gaze.
“Praying can save you, right? The choice exists.”
“…Those who call for help are saved; those who save themselves walk alone,” the Lady said quietly. “Her power cannot yet fully enter this world. But if it’s only a portion of the supplicants she takes, that is no great challenge for such a mighty being. Given the current circumstances, she could take you, everyone you care about, even your entire empire—none of that is impossible.
“On the other hand, you need not worry about any extra cost. If you truly begin to pray, she will bestow grace. There will be no mental shackles, no backlash.”
High Lord pondered, then asked, “Those who call for help are saved. So from the perspective of mere survival, this isn’t much different from being taken by the Voyagers.”
“The difference is vast. Those taken by the Voyagers are limited to the bounds of the Voyager fleet. Whether the Voyagers themselves can complete their final trial, or reach that higher order of spacetime, remains unknown. But those taken by Her will receive true safety and assurance—at least within the current limits of this civilization’s understanding, this ‘safety’ and ‘assurance’ are without immediate threat.
“Of course, a new ceiling still exists. The saved are like fledglings, and their protector remains a god. But this protective wing is stronger and broader than before. That new ceiling lies far beyond the comprehension of mortal beings today. You may need to develop for dozens, hundreds of generations—or even longer—before you realize it exists.”
The Lady paused for a few seconds. Her lowered gaze seemed to carry an indescribable meaning. “For a race that cannot even surpass the speed of light, the boundary beyond the order of spacetime is no different from ‘infinity.’ A roof high enough can be mistaken for the sky. For you… this is actually a very good choice.”
High Lord gave no reply. He sank back into thought, letting time slip by. Gradually, even Amber sat down beside him. Though she didn’t know what he was thinking, she mimicked his contemplative pose.
After an unknown stretch of time, High Lord suddenly moved, as if a statue awakening from slumber. Fine gray-white dust fell from his clothes. He seemed to have made a momentous decision, a faint smile touching his lips.
“No.”
“…Oh?” The Lady’s voice came after a long pause, tinged with surprise. “You refuse?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it is the ‘True God’?”
“Yes.”
“I want to hear your reasons,” the Lady said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “This is not an easy choice.”
“I don’t know if my reasons are sufficient, but I think… civilizations should have their own paths,” High Lord spoke slowly, carefully weighing each word. “This world has come this far on its own trajectory. Its people have fought through thorns with their own wisdom and strength, standing shoulder to shoulder with gods. They have summoned great courage and perseverance to face the greatest challenge to their survival yet—the magical tide. Lady, since we have come this far, why should we pray to an omniscient, omnipotent being for protection?
“If this world were in the state it was years ago, or even just two years ago, I might not have refused such an offer. Back then, the people of Loren were not ready to stand on their own. The world wandered in confusion and chaos. Every step forward was toward an uncertain, stormy future. The Alliance had yet to form; every nation fought its own battles. I only cared for those who followed me. Seeking guidance from a great being, knowing there would be no hidden costs—that was an irresistible option.
“But now it’s different, Lady. This planet is packed and ready to set out on its own, to survive on its own.
“And even ignoring these abstract factors, I believe that for the current Alliance, or even just the current Empire of Cessil, returning to faith is not necessarily good. Even if it’s to the ‘True God,’ we must consider the short-term risk of social chaos and the long-term limits on civilization’s development. Perhaps this great being you speak of can protect all living things, even far better than the Voyagers. But I seriously doubt… after such violent social upheaval and cultural transformation, whether the Cessil Empire taken away would still be the Cessil Empire we know.
“Lastly, and most importantly… Lady, you said this great being’s power cannot fully enter this world. Though I don’t know why such a being is limited, the fact remains: she can only selectively take some people. Even if that ‘some’ includes my entire empire, what about the rest? What happens to those left behind on this planet?
“Even further… what about the Noyans, still waiting for their allies’ aid? Do they have this chance?
“At this critical juncture, if I walk away, it means billions—perhaps tens of billions—of lives are cast into the abyss. Even if we have never met, I bear responsibility for them.
“Lady, survival is important—I admit that. But sometimes we do things for more than survival. Now that mortals have chosen to stand and move forward, I believe we no longer need another path.”
High Lord’s words fell, and he exhaled softly, calmly gazing beyond the clouds. The Lady watched him silently for several seconds before her voice came again.
“But can you make a declaration on behalf of all mortal beings?”
“No,” High Lord answered without hesitation. “On this matter, I can only speak for myself.”
“Then will you let all mortals face this choice and make their own decision?”
“No,” he said firmly. “That would tear the entire Loren civilization apart. A truly omniscient, omnipotent savior without hidden dangers—within mortal understanding—comes at the cost of an unknown, possibly endless developmental ceiling and uncertain cultural upheaval. The alternative is an independent, arduous path that may lead far or end prematurely. Presenting this choice now would fracture society, and much of what we have held onto would be lost.”
“So you will make a risky, unilateral decision,” the Lady’s tone shifted from casual to serious, carrying a weight High Lord could not yet fully grasp. “If you are right, all beings in this world will embark on a more glorious path, and even the gods of the supreme order will salute you. But if you lose this gamble… at least for those who might have been saved, you will become a sinner, a sinner of unprecedented magnitude.”
High Lord considered this, about to speak, when Amber suddenly stood up beside him. The shadow assault goose flailed her arms energetically, her face flushed.
“But isn’t it true that behind every so-called ‘heroic’ decision in mortal history, there’s always a ‘possible path’ that could have made them a sinner for all time? Because at the moment of choosing fate, they had to make a choice! If at every critical point in history we questioned, ‘If they had lost, they’d be eternal sinners,’ then ordinary people today would probably still be hiding in caves, afraid of wolves! After all, wasn’t the first tribal leader who led his whole family from caves to the plains risking extinction too?”
High Lord looked at Amber in surprise, unable to believe these words came from her. Amber noticed his gaze and seemed to calm from her excitement, her flushed face now tinged with embarrassment.
“Uh… did I say something wrong? The metaphor feels off…”
High Lord shook his head with a smile. “No, that’s probably your most accurate example yet.”
“…Interesting,” the Lady’s voice suddenly interrupted their exchange. “Once again, my ‘shadow’ surprises me with something I never expected.”
She paused, a hint of amusement in her tone. “But what you said is very true—enough to convince a god.”
Her attention returned fully to High Lord. After a two-second pause, she nodded gently.
“So this is your stance—even if losing the gamble makes you a sinner for all time, you have no doubt or hesitation.”
“I’ve made too many choices over the years that, if wrong, would have made me a sinner for all time,” High Lord smiled. “And since just now, I’ve been thinking about something that’s a key reason for my decision to refuse prayer.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking about the Voyagers. They’ve journeyed through this universe for so many years. As the first civilization to open the ‘Voyager Routes,’ their path was even more arduous—hundreds of times harder—than the challenges Loren faces. And from what you’ve revealed, the Voyagers clearly know of the ‘Supreme Order,’ of those great gods…” High Lord chuckled. “So why didn’t they choose to pray to the gods for protection? Why did they become such trailblazers, carrying countless ‘burdens’ along the way?”
The Lady was silent for a few seconds. “Perhaps they are restricted from seeking protection. Perhaps they bear shackles and must complete the final trial to qualify to move forward.”
“Ah, so that’s the ‘invisible ceiling,’ isn’t it? The boundary still exists, though perhaps in a way I cannot yet understand. But those ‘great beings’ you mentioned have indeed left a boundary. It seems the Voyagers intended—or were forced—to break through it. Maybe we can try to break through it too.”
After finishing his words, Gawain noticed Lady Ye subtly shift her posture. Though he couldn’t be certain, a vague feeling washed over him—as if he had just passed a test, or made a decision that would shape the course of civilization for countless ages to come. Then, from the sky above, Lady Ye let out a soft sigh:
“You… might truly be able to go farther than the Voyagers.”
Gawain said nothing. After that gentle sigh, Lady Ye paused briefly before continuing, “I understand your choice now. In that case, all I can offer you is my sincere blessing—go, do what must be done. But I look forward to the day when, after you’ve safely survived in this world, we meet again.”
Gawain exhaled quietly. Yet before taking his leave, his gaze suddenly fell upon the stone pillar before Lady Ye’s throne.
The Modril’s Travels lay there quietly atop the pillar—the great adventurer who had once roamed the world now reduced to silence.
“May I take this book with me?” Gawain asked.
“I expected you’d say that,” Lady Ye replied with a gentle shake of her head. “But I’m afraid it can no longer leave my side. The real Modril Wilde should have turned to dust six centuries ago. My power forcibly kept him tethered to the living world, and what remains of him now is entirely reshaped by shadow’s influence. Just as a shadow cannot exist independently from its source, this book must stay with me to remain stable.”
As Lady Ye’s words fell, Amber couldn’t help but interject, “But aren’t I just a ‘shadow’ who exists apart from my original self?”
Lady Ye was silent for two seconds, then sighed softly, “Try not to undermine me like that when you’re out and about—it’s a quick way to get yourself beaten up.”
Amber and Gawain exchanged awkward glances.
The tension lingered for a moment before Gawain deliberately ignored the subtle shift in atmosphere. “So, this book…”
“Truly cannot be taken,” Lady Ye repeated, still shaking her head. “Amber’s situation is different and can’t be compared. Besides… I once made a promise to the great adventurer, and I intend to keep it.”
Curious, Gawain asked, “A promise? What did you promise him?”
“I promised to let him witness a broader world, to set him on unimaginable journeys—though he now wears a different form, that promise still stands,” Lady Ye smiled. “I’ve served the Voyagers for 1.8 million years, and was bound to this throne by the Reverse Tide’s influence. But now, with the Anchor Point Generator restored and the starspace returning to order, I think… it’s time to give myself a little break. A stroll around the surroundings shouldn’t hurt.”
Gawain’s eyes widened. “Wait… you can do that?!”
“Why not?” Lady Ye winked, her tone lightening. “My neighbors aren’t just mortals who get to break the rules. Even old relics on the divine throne have their restless moments—before the Reverse Tide came to stir things up, I’d been planning this ‘stroll’ for a long time. Now’s as good a time as any to relax a bit.”
Gawain looked utterly stunned.
He suddenly understood where Amber’s innate knack for slacking off came from.
But Lady Ye didn’t give him a chance to speak further. The ancient deity resumed her lazy pose against the throne, then gently raised a finger, pointing toward the distant Nightfall City. Suddenly, a long bridge of twilight light materialized over the desert sands, stretching from the throne all the way to the city.
“Follow this path. You will return to the real world. The guide awaits you at the end—don’t keep them waiting too long.”
Gawain and Amber exchanged a glance, then nodded. With relaxed expressions, they gave Lady Ye a slight bow.
They had asked all they needed to ask, learned all they needed to know, and accepted the legacy of the Voyagers. Now, all that remained was to return to where they came from and face the road ahead.
With hope for their next meeting, they turned and stepped onto the bridge woven from twilight light.
Long after their figures faded into the glow of dusk, Lady Ye remained seated on her throne, letting out a soft sigh.
The ancient god seemed lost in thought. After a long while, she murmured to herself, “They refuse to pray. They want to walk their own path.”
She waited quietly. Then, from some faraway place, from a deep, unseen connection, a faint sigh echoed softly: “…Impressive.”
(Recommendation time! For those new to fishing for good reads, check out Into the Unscientific by Novice Angler. I’ve recommended it before, so no need to say much—it’s a sci-fi novel about time travel and future tech. Its strengths? Consistent quality and high healing power—you won’t easily kill the healer. Definitely worth your support!)
(End of chapter)