Chapter 241: The God of Nature

Survival was no easy feat.

A magical fortress stranded in a pocket dimension, severed from the outside world, and lacking any resources sufficient for long-term survival. The storm unleashed by the magical tide had ravaged the Stasis Hall and destroyed the vast supply warehouses that supported it. Within the fortress’s remaining structure, Kamail and his Watcher comrades had to meticulously ration what little they had for the days ahead.

“We were all part of the ‘Divine Blight’ experiment,” Kamail explained. “Each of us underwent the final-stage mutation enhancements, which allowed us to live longer than ordinary humans. But even so, the scarcity of supplies remained a critical problem. We held onto the hope that the situation would improve—that one day, all problems would be solved. But first, we had to survive until that day came. Under the Archmage’s leadership, we began conserving every resource and started repairing the fortress’s remaining facilities.”

Kamail led Gawain and his group through a series of abandoned chambers near the fortress’s edge. The magical tide had destroyed much of this area; shattered rooms and broken corridors were the norm. Yet, thanks to a powerful magical barrier still holding strong, these zones remained barely habitable.

“Our first priority was restoring the magical energy supply. This fortress, built within a pocket dimension, has its own energy circulation system. We could draw power directly from the external environment to keep things running. Then we repaired most of the damaged internal walls and barriers to prevent dangerous chaotic magic from seeping in. Finally, we tried to reactivate the magical gate that leads outside… but those attempts failed.”

“The magical tide altered the gate’s operating mechanism. It wasn’t broken, but it wouldn’t activate. We transferred half the fortress’s energy reserves to the gate, but it couldn’t even open a tiny crack. As we kept trying and researching, our supplies dwindled, and everyone’s health began to decline.”

“The magical tide’s influence wasn’t absent—it was everywhere, subtle but relentless. Over time, our bodies started to fail. The ‘Divine Blight’ enhancements didn’t grant us immortality. Claude Pirin was the first to die—a swift illness took him down in the lab. Then the eldest son of the Pardini family followed…”

“Some died in accidents. The Korden siblings fell off the platform when a massive floating boulder struck them while repairing the barrier. Shirod was killed in an explosion while fixing the mana concentrator. Our numbers kept shrinking, and hope of escape faded. Even sending out a Mage’s Eye to scout the outside world was impossible—the gate was sealed shut, utterly unopenable.”

Hetty’s eyes darkened. “And then… everyone died.”

“Humans are fragile creatures, both body and mind,” Kamail sighed, his voice trembling with residual energy. “We couldn’t maintain order until the end. In the last few decades, a severe… chaos erupted. The crushing pressure shattered everyone’s hope. Even the Archmage couldn’t hold it together. Here, more than half of us found… ‘release.’”

Kamail brought Gawain to a wide-open chamber that once served as a gathering hall. Half of it had collapsed entirely; chunks of floor, walls, and ceiling floated haphazardly in the dark void beyond. An energy barrier shimmered over the jagged boundary.

Everywhere, the scars of powerful spells were evident.

“When it was all over, the survivors who had calmed down realized how foolish they’d been. But it was too late to undo anything. Only a dozen or so remained alive—and none of them for long.”

“We quietly accepted our fate. In the very end, we managed to preserve the last shred of dignity as Imperial Magi.”

Gawain looked at Kamail’s energy-infused form. “So… how did you become like this?”

Kamail paused, then spoke slowly. “I was the last one left. Whether that’s luck or misfortune, I can’t say. My ‘Divine Blight’ mutation was unusually successful—I became the healthiest and longest-lived here. After everyone else died, I showed no signs of decline.”

“I drifted through a foggy decade, arranging the bodies of my comrades as you see them—seated as if still alive. I think I might have gone mad, but I don’t remember what a sane mind feels like. Then I wandered the empty fortress for years, continuing my work—checking ancient devices, inventorying supplies, monitoring external changes, keeping records, running experiments, talking to myself, sometimes even to those seated in the hall…”

“But I wouldn’t die. My final rest seemed endlessly distant. And during that time, my mental state worsened.”

“So I decided to end my life on my own terms.”

“Your own terms?” Tyr looked at Kamail curiously. “What kind of method turned you into… this?”

“As I said before, this place is where the White Star fell. Three thousand years ago, the God of Nature fell here. This entire ‘Rebellion’ fortress was built around the White Star as its core and foundation. I paid a lifetime’s price for this place. So I chose to end my life with ‘Him.’”

Kamail stopped before a rune-covered isolation wall forged from some unknown metal. As he cast a spell, the runes lit up one by one, and the heavy metal barrier began to tremble. Slowly and solemnly, it rose before them.

Outside the wall was a translucent energy shield. Beyond it, the true scene outside the fortress finally revealed itself to Gawain.

This was not the Shadow Realm—but something far stranger and more chaotic. Countless shattered boulders floated in the dim, endless void. These dense, suspended stones formed an infinite “landscape” in this space. Above this broken terrain swirled eternal clouds of chaos, with eerie black lightning silently ravaging the skies. Within those clouds, indescribable and terrifying illusions flickered.

Amid this chaotic realm, one sight drew every eye.

A colossal white stag, as massive as a small mountain, floated among the shattered floating islands. Thick chains bound its limbs, and a faint white glow enveloped its body. Around the stag hovered countless broken fragments of metal and crystal debris. The massive metal wreckage was so twisted and deformed that Hetty couldn’t imagine their original form or purpose. But Gawain vaguely sensed that these huge metal remnants resembled some kind of flying machine—with what looked like thrusters at the rear and skeletal extensions like weapon mounts. These structures were utterly beyond the understanding of the humans of Loren continent today!

More importantly—the texture of the metal and crystal was eerily similar to Eternal Stone Tablets!

Gawain’s heart pounded. Kamail’s voice came beside him: “Behold—the fallen White Star, the nature god once worshiped by the Druids—the Great Stag, Amon!”

“The God of Nature!” Hetty couldn’t contain her astonishment. “My heavens!!”

“Don’t worry, the ‘barrier’ will protect your minds,” Kamail said, as if sensing Hetty’s fear of facing a deity directly. He pointed to the shimmering energy shield outside the metal wall. “This barrier is the most valuable discovery we made from the debris around the god’s corpse. We simulated the energy fluctuations of those remnants and found that magic of the same frequency can neutralize the damage a god’s power inflicts on mortal minds. As long as the barrier holds, you’re safe.”

Gawain stared in shock at the translucent shield, gazing through it at the metal wreckage surrounding the Great Stag’s divine corpse. He never imagined he’d so soon glimpse the secrets of a god, or the relics of the “Godslayers.” Seeing it all so vividly before him, he felt not just surprise, but a profound, soul-stirring awe—

This was where the god fell. This was the fallen god. This was the weapon that killed the god…

The makers of that weapon had long since departed, but their creation remained here. Their “monitoring satellite” left behind in this world still operated to this day.

Gawain withdrew his gaze and looked at Kamail nearby. “So it was the god’s power that transformed you like this?”

“I still can’t be sure if my mind was already influenced by the god’s power back then. Even with the barrier, I spent centuries here with the god’s corpse. My sanity couldn’t have remained intact,” Kamail said with a self-mocking tone. “I opened the gate and entered that unprotected space without any protective gear or wards. I approached the Great Stag and channeled its energy into myself, hoping to use it to kill myself. Then the energy exploded. My body was torn apart by divine power and ultimately… transformed into this form.”

“You became an energy being, even harder to kill,” Gawain wiped the drool from Tyr’s chin and looked up at Kamail’s altered form. “How many years passed after that?”

“I can’t remember. After my life form changed, my memories became fragmented,” Kamail said helplessly, pointing to the armor plate on his chest. “I inscribed these on myself to remind me, to prevent myself from becoming a mindless monster. But if it weren’t for meeting you, I probably would have lost myself by now…”

“When we first met, you doubted whether we were real,” Hetty recalled. “What did you mean by that?”

“Before you appeared, I had ‘seen’ living people at least seven times,” Kamail’s voice was bitter. “I saw someone find this forgotten fortress. I saw someone open the magical gate. I saw those comrades who left long ago return to this place, come to take me away, telling me the mission was over… I was hallucinating, over and over. At first, I thought my mind was breaking. But later I realized it was the god’s power influencing me. Its power sometimes seeped through the barrier, creating illusions before my eyes. That’s why when I saw you, I doubted if you were phantoms, if the barrier was failing again…”

Gawain finally understood the reason behind Kamail’s strange behavior from the start. He looked at the ancient mage before him with a deep sense of awe—astonished that this man’s mind had endured all the way to the present day. Though Gawain’s own “history” stretched back countless times further, he knew that was because his very form of life had mutated from the beginning. But this man… he had persisted as a human for centuries before any transformation.

After a long silence, Gawain exhaled softly. “Don’t worry. We’re real.”

(End of chapter)