Chapter 817: Chapter 814: Bonfire

When Duncan awoke, the overflowing starlight swiftly gathered back, and the desert that was nearly soaked in the gleam of stars quickly returned to its initial state. Tarrikin, too, sighed in relief.

Then, the “Eternal Ember” turned his head and glanced at Fenna, who was not far away.

When the starlight spread, Fenna was almost unaffected–in fact, she seemed not to even notice the spreading light; she, like Duncan, was just engrossed in contemplation, until only now, when she finally lifted her head, she looked around belatedly.

A touch of light purple starlight lingered at the edges of her silvery-white hair, as if those starlights had existed a long time ago, and only under some kind of “illumination” did they reveal themselves at this moment.

“You are gradually being changed by the power of the Usurping Flame, becoming an extension of its force,” Tarrikin broke the silence, nodding slightly to Fenna, “this confirms my judgment–the nature of the Usurping Flame is not those flames, but something hidden underneath them.”

Now, Fenna too began to understand what exactly the captain and the “ancient god” before her had been discussing. Her expression changed several times, carrying a pensive hue.

“So strictly speaking, you have never actually set foot in this world, Usurping Flame,” Tarrikin then returned his gaze to Duncan, “you have always been observing the myriad things in the Endless Sea through a veil, only occasionally, through ‘your own eyes’, do you perceive its fleeting ‘true face.’ And the ‘end of the flame’ you mentioned–I can imagine what it is–is due to this limitation.

“The ‘takeover’ of Navigator One is built on the premise that you must perpetuate the Shelter, and to perpetuate the Shelter means that you need to maintain ‘awareness’ of its current state. And to maintain an awareness of the Shelter’s current state… you must be ‘Duncan’.”

Tarrikin paused here briefly, seemingly to give Duncan time to think, before continuing in a low voice: “Because the gaze of the Usurping Flame is going to destroy this world–its appearance depends on the conclusions of your observation.

“And vice versa, when you are to take ‘the first step’, you must be the Usurping Flame–because ‘Captain Duncan’s’ gaze will lead to the continuation of the Shelter in the flames, and thus bring about the ‘end of the flame’, regardless of your subjective will, perhaps it is also the only thing in this world that you cannot control.”

The gaze of the Usurping Flame will destroy this world…

Duncan did not speak; he pondered the matters spoken by Tarrikin, the plan of Navigator One and his own schemes, contemplating…

The different aspects of the world as seen through the eyes of “Duncan” and “Zhou Ming”.

“I understand now,” after a long while, Duncan–who still needs to be “Duncan”–finally exhaled softly; he raised his head, meeting Tarrikin’s gaze, “Thank you for the reminder, it is indeed crucial.”

“That’s good,” a smile appeared on Tarrikin’s face, then this ancient, hunchbacked giant braced himself with his arm against the ground beside him, gradually exerted force and stood up from the sands with a difficult yet resolute posture.

The sands cascaded off of him, like the passing years carried away by the wind, he stood under the night sky in the desert, looking off into the distance.

After a moments, he quietly exclaimed, “Almost nothing is left…”

“What was this place originally like?” Hearing the lament, Fenna couldn’t help but ask.

“Originally? Originally it wasn’t a lush place either, because from the beginning, the ‘history’ of the Shelter was but a mirage in the river of time, it was my ‘sculpting’, and the continual ceremonial recording, inheritance, and mending by the Fire Transmitters, that made it seem as if the outside real world was ‘developing and continuing normally along the timeline’, but here… this place was never prosperous.

“But at the very least, it wasn’t a desert back then–on that vast Land of Exhaustion, there were scattered, extremely rare rivers and oases, because even within the illusion-like flow of time, it mirrored the real occurrences worth recording.”

“Back then, there were even cities on this land, with intelligent tribes living beside the oases, those were the reflections of the real world mirrored into this Dreamscape sculpted by me, and in their memories… the world was once prosperous, and remained prosperous.”

The old giant bent down, grasped a handful of sand from the ground, and watched as they slipped through the fingers, passing in the cold night breeze.

“And then, I encountered ‘decay,’ more and more things vanished from the real world, and the history of the Shelter became riddled with holes. Every ‘self-adjustment’ by the Shelter meant the emergence of more ‘necrosis’ within the flow of time, the dry land was increasingly covered by the sands, past memories and sounds echoed in the ruins, eventually becoming the sight before your eyes.”

Fenna couldn’t help but think of that city, of the voices and relics she had encountered while traveling through this boundless desert.

And immediately after, she suddenly thought of something else–she remembered some of the heretical “theories” and “academic conjectures” she had seen in the large cathedral archives in Prand, back when she was there–the dual nature of the world.

Some scholars believe that the entire world is dual-natured–in some dimension, there exists a “Land of Exhaustion”, a mirror image of the sea and land, an endless expanse of barren terrain, dotted with extremely rare rivers and oases. This Land of Exhaustion even housed intelligent civilizations; they and everything in reality complemented each other in reflection…

Fenna’s eyes widened, she couldn’t help but gaze into the distance, looking at the vast, boundless sea of sand, picturing the large and small ruins of the City-States scattered throughout the desert…

This was the place that scholars speculated, where it mirrored the world in reflection.

It truly exists–exist at the end of the world, in the gradually decaying memories of an ancient god as they continuously crumble and disintegrate.

Fenna suddenly raised her head, as if she wanted to say something to Tarrikin, but just as she was about to speak, a violent gust of wind swept up the sand.

The sandstorm rose like a curtain lifting between heaven and earth, enclosing her and the captain, then vanished in the blink of an eye–the wind stopped, and the hunched giant standing in the desert had disappeared from her sight.

Chaotic Sky Light pierced through the clouds and fog, shining upon this little island covered with ashes. A breeze, origin unknown, carried a delicate and pale layer of ash dancing with the wind, floating around like a light gauze.

Fenna snapped out of her daze, looked toward the distance, and saw nothing but an endless expanse of ashes. Sparse plumes of smoke rose in the distance, meandering skyward.

Not far from her side was a campfire that seemed about to extinguish.

Tarrikin was sitting there–emaciated, bent, and almost a heap of skeletal remains; he was the campfire itself, his flesh and bones the firewood, with faint and weak flames flickering among his charred bones and the remnants of his flesh in the breeze.

The giant sat there, head bowed, motionless, as if something had once piled up beside him, but now only undefined mounds of ash remained, while in his hand he still tightly gripped a black stone flake that resembled a chisel–as if he had been earnestly sculpting something until he could no longer move.

Fenna slowly approached the nearly extinguished flames, lifted her head, and gazed silently at the giant’s face for a long time.

In a daze, she seemed to hear that familiar sound again–

Ding… Ding ding…

Duncan came over from the side, gently placing his hand on Fenna’s shoulder.

“It’s time to go,” he said softly, “while the fire here has not yet completely died out.”

Fenna nodded gently.

Duncan took a step forward, reaching out his finger towards the remaining cluster of flame on Tarrikin’s body.

In silence, the cluster of flame quietly took on a layer of ghostly green, then the light of the flames began to dance, with the beautiful glitter of starlight emerging in them, pulsating slowly like breathing in and out.

In the blurry sensation built up by the flames, he whispered in his heart: “We’ll see you in our new world.”

…

In the eternal night, a massive fleet is sailing northward.

The night wind swept over the calm sea, bringing the distinctive, bone-chilling cold of the Chill Sea that seemed to progressively freeze one’s heart and lungs. The pale, cool light of Creation of the World shone upon the whole world, the various sizes of ice floes floating on the mirror-like dark sea reflected its brilliance, appearing like a series of ferocious and pale ghostly shadows, moving slowly yet swiftly beyond the ship’s side.

Even the grand and sacred bonfire could not dispel the coldness that enveloped the whole sea area–Frem, standing beside the large bonfire in the center of the Church Ark, felt for a moment as if the roaring flames before him had suddenly lost their warmth, and what hit his face was not the heat of the fire but an endless emptiness, a sharp and bone-piercing cold.

Footsteps came from the side, startling the Pope of the Flame Transmitter, who was meditating with closed eyes. Frem looked towards the source of the sound to see a priestess wearing a black gown with flame patterns and a veil walking towards him, bowing her head beside the large bonfire.

“Your Holiness the Pope, we have crossed the surrounding sea area of Frost, and we have just received a signal from the vessels of the Deep Sea Church. They will meet with us and transfer the ‘goods’ in half an hour.”

“Hmm,” responded Frem, “… Is the archive ready?”

“The preparations for archiving have been made,” the tall Senkin People priestess answered, “and the storage areas have been readjusted to accommodate the newly archived documents.”

Frem nodded silently.

“Moreover, the Frost City-State has just sent a message,” continued the priestess, “Governor Terrian sends his greetings to us, quoting verbatim–

“All the best blessings of the world to those who record and inherit, a salute to you. Proceed with peace of mind, all acts of preservation have meaning. Also: ‘They’ have crossed the Fire’s node and are headed to the final stop.”