Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 138: The First Glimpse
The cage elevator started moving, rumbling as it plunged downward.
Salaar didn’t wait for the young man’s answer, nor did he even look at his expression. He simply descended alone, falling toward the deepest abyss of the darkness.
There was no firelight in the shaft. The black coffin seemed to dissolve into the shadows.
Salaar’s arms were still tightly wrapped around Myss’s waist, and the Hero still had his face buried against Myss’s abdomen, breathing slowly and steadily.
Salaar had been created.
Myss discovered that he wasn’t particularly surprised by this revelation.
During the Night Scourge, alchemy had been highly advanced. There had been all manner of bizarre alchemical lifeforms, and the Celestial Canopy so-called “Divine Blood Puppets,” which the Stargazers Society had reconstructed from its remnants…
In that case, an alchemical lifeform identical in appearance to a human wasn’t especially strange.
Myss unconsciously stroked Salaar’s hair. It was warm and slightly coarse.
It was ironic, really. They had fought inside the seal for more than three hundred years, and all Myss had ever thought about was how to stab that damned human full of holes. Not once had he ever touched Salaar’s hair.
There was no question about it. Salaar was showing him everything.
Probably because the Blind God was deeply connected to the Celestial Canopy. At this rate, Salaar wouldn’t be able to hide it from him anyway, Myss thought.
Better to rip the bandage away all at once and explain everything clearly.
And Salaar wanted to tell him something… But what?
Myss concentrated and watched the phantom of the past.
Salaar finally reached his destination. Inside and outside the cage, there was nothing but pure darkness, almost identical to the environment within the seal.
A brilliant golden orb of light ignited and obediently floated beside Salaar. Yet even though it was so bright, it couldn’t pierce the swamp-thick, oppressive darkness. Myss could only see the dark-brown soil beneath Salaar’s feet. In every other direction, there was no distinction at all.
Salaar walked unwaveringly toward a particular direction. Myss had no idea how he knew the way. Earlier, he had still been able to sense faint magical fluctuations, but here there was nothing at all. It was like a void.
Salaar walked for quite some time before he came to a halt. The golden light continued forward on its own and illuminated what lay ahead.
Myss widened his eyes. His hand, which had been idly playing with Salaar’s head, went still.
He saw lapis lazuli blue.
More precisely, he saw more than a hundred pairs of lapis-lazuli eyes. They varied in size and were embedded in incomplete human faces.
Countless faces had fused together, their pale skin connecting into a mass that faintly outlined the shape of a human embryo.
Every face covering the thing’s surface… Every single one looked exactly like Salaar.
The “embryo” floated in midair and was even larger than the adult Salaar standing before it.
The lapis-lazuli eyes across its surface blinked irregularly. The golden radiance made them narrow in discomfort. But every black pupil was undoubtedly directed toward Salaar.
Those eyes weren’t very different from the two on Salaar’s own face. They were just as cold, like exquisite glasswork.
“I’m going to leave, my…” Salaar paused slightly before continuing. “My successor.”
The embryo remained silent.
More magical devices floated around it. Countless tubes disappeared into the darkness, producing an inorganic humming sound.
“According to our current projections, I will have only one ending. I will be destroyed by the source of Chaos. Before that happens, I will buy as much time as possible.”
“The moment I am destroyed, you will inherit my mission and be born into this world. Before leaving, I thought it necessary to see you once.”
Salaar’s tone sounded less like conversation and more like speaking to himself.
He gazed intently into the countless eyes covering the embryo, as though trying to find something within them.
But in the end, he found nothing.
“…I’m not dead yet, so I can’t give you the most complete version of my memories. I’ll copy everything I remember up to this point and leave it with you as an advance reference.”
He spoke calmly and placed one hand against the floating embryo.
The instant Salaar touched it, countless specks of brilliant gold exploded outward. Like ten thousand sparks, the golden fragments ignited the darkness.
In an instant, a chaotic whirlwind began to turn through the near-void. For a moment, Myss felt as though he had returned to the instant when they first entered the Fallen Child’s Divine Realm.
Only this time, the memories filling the darkness didn’t belong to the mother of Rosha, but to Salaar himself.
The earliest memory was darkness.
“It’s too late. Our research is falling far behind the rate at which the Night Scourge is worsening. Even if every country sets aside its grudges and cooperates, we can’t increase efficiency any further…”
A middle-aged man spoke in frustration.
“The effects of the Night Scourge are simply too vast, and the information is too scattered. Our observers can’t record every detail, and there’s always a loss of information in communication.”
“Never mind how difficult cooperation with other countries is. Even within the Celestial Canopy, coordination across departments and regions is nearly impossible…”
“Perhaps all we can do is accumulate as much information as possible. Maybe future generations will be able to use it.”
A younger woman tried to comfort him.
“I heard the Nebula family is researching a magical ‘brain’ that can organize and summarize all that information.”
“If we had several hundred more years to perfect it, perhaps.”
Another dry voice cut in.
“Enough. Stop lying to yourselves. More and more people are changing directions and preparing to compromise with the Night Scourge. We lose researchers every day.”
“I’ve seen the Nebula family’s magical ‘brain’ too. It’s decent at storing information, but if you actually ask it to ‘think,’ it can’t even tell an apple from a pear.”
The middle-aged man said, “Yes. Human thought is irreplaceable. Unfortunately, a single person has far too little time to learn… Wait.”
“Tell me. If we poured all of our observations, knowledge, and experience into a single genius, might that give us a better solution?”
……
Darkness, an even longer stretch of darkness.
“No.”
This time, the middle-aged man’s voice was gone; it was the younger woman who spoke.
“He’s gone mad… I should have realized it. Pouring so many people’s memories into one mind all at once was bound to cause a mental breakdown, even if he was the strongest among us…”
“Hah. I warned him long ago.”
The dry voice gave a bitter laugh.
“Well, now the Celestial Canopy has lost another genius. He’s nothing but a heap of insane fragments now. He doesn’t even know who he is, much less how to find a solution…”
“Still, compared with simply surrendering, the method is theoretically viable. During the brief periods when he was barely lucid, he did produce several extremely useful new ideas.”
The young woman’s voice was slightly hoarse.
“We can try stripping the emotions out of the memories and attempting it again. This time, I’ll do it.”
“…”
The dry voice remained silent for a while before releasing a long sigh.
“Let me do it instead. You’re still young, Mariana.”
“I’m already old, and my mind isn’t sharp enough anymore. You’re still young. As long as the young don’t give up, there is still hope.”
……
This time, the darkness lasted even longer.
So long that Myss began to wonder whether his own perception had malfunctioned.
“…”
“…I’m sorry.” Mariana spoke softly. “Even memories without emotion still destabilize an established personality… You remained lucid only slightly longer than he did…”
“Never mind the countless scenes of carnage and horrific recollections, just the details mixed into those memories, the conflicting habits of life… even something as trivial as whether a person eats fish can disrupt someone.”
“We aren’t as strong as we imagined…”
There was no response.
It was difficult to tell whether this was a conversation or simply someone muttering to themselves.
Myss more or less understood the Celestial Canopy desperation.
The situation was deteriorating rapidly. Humanity was running itself ragged. The Celestial Canopy had tried to create an omniscient sage to face the approaching end of the world.
Magical devices and machines could bear unlimited information, but they were astonishingly stupid, and humanity had no time to improve them. Human thought and inspiration were relatively useful, but the human mind couldn’t withstand a vast flood of information.
It would only break apart into madness. At first glance, the problem truly seemed unsolvable. And yet the “answer” was currently lying across Myss’s lap, breathing softly.
The woman named Mariana remained silent in the darkness for a long time.
“But if there is no ‘heart’ to begin with, then there is nothing to collapse.” At last, she murmured those words. “Yes. Yes. The technology for alchemical lifeforms is mature enough. We only need to construct a ‘homunculus’…”
“An ordinary human body is too fragile. If we add a large amount of Night Scourge essence, it will possess extremely high resistance to the Night Scourge…”
“Then we give it everyone’s memories and experience.”
“It will become a one-of-a-kind ‘Hero’… Ha!”
Mariana’s voice suddenly grew excited.
“I’ve thought of a brilliant idea. Can you hear me?”
“The Celestial Canopy already has every material we need. We only lack a fetus with no memories!”
“There are so many stillborn infants these days. Someone will certainly be willing to donate one…”
Her voice grew quieter and quieter before ending in a sigh.
“…No matter what, I will not allow the apocalypse come to pass.”
Her tone was utterly resolute, accompanied by the faint rustling of fabric. “I will let my child see the sunlight.”
“Do you hear me?”
……
The darkness finally disappeared.
Through blurred vision, Myss and the newborn “Salaar” saw Mariana’s face together.
Her features were fairly proper, and she possessed lapis-lazuli eyes identical to Salaar’s.
Whether because of the Night Scourge or simply because of her emotional state, even Myss, who wasn’t sensitive to human ages, felt that the woman looked much older than she actually was.
Her cheeks were hollow from thinness, and her skin was covered in an unhealthy waxy yellow pallor.
Within the memory, she placed a swaddled infant onto a cushioned seat.
The baby neither cried nor fussed. He simply looked at her in silence, both little hands rested on his knees. His face showed none of the joy, anger, sadness, or pleasure that a human infant should possess.
“…Salaar.” After a long while, she spoke. “From today onward, your name is ‘Salaar.’”
“You previously called ‘me’ Selene,” the infant said in a childish voice.
His tone, however, was extremely close to that of an adult. Myss keenly noticed the hairs on Mariana’s arms rise for an instant.
“That’s not your name. It was the name of my dead child. You’re not him.” Mariana’s voice was dry.
“I’ll remember,” Salaar said calmly.
“From now on, I’ll be responsible for your daily care and education. Your body is still too… fragile.” Mariana took several deep breaths. “In the future, you will need to absorb new memory information at regular intervals and devote yourself entirely to researching a solution to the Night Scourge.”
“Remember this above all else: everything is for ending the Night Scourge.”
“I understand my mission,” Salaar said. “I have only one question. How should I address you?”
“According to ordinary human logic, I should call you ‘Mo—’”
“Madam. Or Lady Mariana.” Mariana forced a smile. “The amount of Night Scourge source used to create you far exceeds the contribution from an infant’s body.”
“According to ordinary human logic, the source of the Night Scourge is closer to being your ‘mother’ than I am.”
“Understood, Madam,” Salaar said, sounding completely unmoved.
Myss: “…?”
Myss lowered his head and looked at the adult Salaar still holding him. Goosebumps slowly rose across his skin.
“Don’t worry. I never thought of it that way.” Salaar spoke for the first time, and he even sounded like he was suppressing laughter. “Even then, I knew she only said that because she wanted to reject me tactfully.”
Myss thought for a moment. “Then do you consider yourself human?”
If Salaar wasn’t even human, Myss truly couldn’t understand where his obsession with “everything is for ending the Night Scourge” had come from.
If he could persuade Salaar to fall, that might count as a victory of its own…
Salaar didn’t answer; the shifting memory answered for him.
……
A teenage Salaar sat beneath the sunlight, writing and calculating on parchment.
“The observers in Atla have withdrawn eight hundred people and transferred them to the vicinity of the Crimson Marsh in Mondicia.”
He continued calculating without pausing his pen.
“We need to build a large stronghold in Mondicia.”
Mariana carried over a plate of cakes and gently placed it beside Salaar’s hand. “Why?”
“Even after incorporating a large quantity of Night Scourge source, my essential nature is still human.” Salaar didn’t look at her. “I will age and die or perhaps die unexpectedly.”
“More importantly, according to our current information, the probability that our generation alone can eradicate the Night Scourge is extremely low.”
Mariana smoothed her hair. Several white strands at her temples were especially conspicuous.
“What are you thinking?”
“Stop concentrating all memories in me.”
“Imagine that we reconstruct a mental magical device and use it to back up all memory information.”
Salaar continued, “It would be simple and independent. It wouldn’t need to rely on me for its existence. That way, after I die, a ‘replacement’ can inherit it directly and continue fighting the Night Scourge.”
“Like the Nebula family’s magical brain,” Mariana said in understanding.
“No. A physical object is too easy to destroy. If something happens to the Celestial Canopy, there’s a risk that the inheritance of knowledge will be lost.”
Salaar finally raised his head.
“I intend to turn it into pure magic.”
“I will anchor a powerful mental spell within my body. At the instant of my death, it will automatically extract all the knowledge I possess and transfer it to a designated target.”
Mariana understood. “Mondicia’s environment is the most suitable for hiding living things. You want a successor.”
“Yes. The closer its physical nature is to mine, the better.”
Mariana remained silent for a long time. “You’re not purely human. It’ll be difficult for you to have descendants. I—”
“There’s no need.” Salaar’s tone was indifferent. “You may use my flesh however you like. Even a lump of meat would be acceptable. A group of monsters might be better. As long as they possess thought and can survive for a long time…”
“…And most importantly, like me, they must have no ‘heart.’”
Mariana: “A name?”
“I’ll not name my successor…”
“No. The name of the spell,” Mariana said softly. “I need to enter it into the records.”
Salaar thought for a long time.
“Black Coffin.” He said, “Just as those who entrusted their deaths to me, I’ll pass everything I possess onward in the same way.”
“Even if the Celestial Canopy fails and everything is buried in darkness, as long as the spell doesn’t disappear, there will come a day when all of this sees the light again.”
Mariana’s movements paused slightly. Her eyes lifted almost imperceptibly. She seemed as though she wanted to ask something, but in the end, she said nothing.
Myss immediately lowered his gaze and stared fixedly at the back of Salaar’s head.
So that was it. No wonder Salaar had shown him all this. He had been waiting for this moment.
Even if Salaar died, his memories and experience, together with all the other memories he carried, would be passed on to his successor.
And that damned successor would rise again and continue harassing Myss. Even if there were no successor, Salaar had hidden those memories inside a spell, waiting for some other human to discover them.
Unless the entire world was destroyed, Myss truly had no way to stop it.
“You showed me all this just to annoy me? To tell me that even after you die, your ghost will keep haunting me?”
Even though he knew Salaar couldn’t see his face, Myss still bared his teeth. The muscles of his abdomen tightened with irritation.
Salaar’s body moved twice, as though he were laughing.
“That was only one of my goals.” Salaar’s voice was muffled. “Unfortunately, it isn’t the most important one.”
“What did you say—”
“Shh. We’re almost at the end.” Salaar tightened his embrace. “Be patient. Finish watching.”
Myss tried to peel the person clinging to him away. Unfortunately, Salaar was much stronger than his size suggested. After struggling for quite a while, Myss gave up.
“Isn’t it already over?” he asked irritably.
Before them, the golden light had already faded. Salaar stood opposite the malformed embryo. It seemed he had only wanted to entrust the necessary information to his “successor” before leaving.
Salaar shook his head.
“Now I’m going to add the part that happened after I left.” There was laughter in his voice. “…The most important part, and the answer the Blind God wants most.”
The moment Salaar finished speaking, everything returned to pure darkness.
This time, Myss recognized the place. It was the seal where they had been trapped. The ground beneath Salaar’s feet wasn’t dark-brown soil but cold, dark gravel.
Salaar wore battered armor and stood among crooked gravestones. Faint firelight glimmered not far away. Clearly, many of Salaar’s companions were still alive.
It looked like an utterly ordinary day.
Myss frowned.
…No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t an “utterly ordinary” day.
The number of gravestones. The distribution of the firelight. The damage on the armor… He remembered them all.
That was the day He has first laid eyes on Salaar.
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