Chapter 1241: God’s Eye

He tried to speak. He tried to move. Neither happened.

Roland hung suspended in paralysis while pictures streaked past him — not quite memories, not quite vision, but something in between, as though the world had swallowed him and was now digesting its own history.

A pit. Vast beyond any scale he knew. Around its rim, black dots moved like ants disturbed from their hill, and from the pit’s center a platform rose — small as a thumbprint against that immensity, built from the same pale stone he had seen on the mural inside the Temple of the Cursed.

He pushed at the focus with his mind, and the image lurched closer. The dots resolved into bodies. The radiation clan — every one of them exactly as the mural had rendered them, contracting and expanding in slow rhythmic pulses around the platform, the God’s Relic raised between them, piece fitted to piece until the crystal completed itself and burned.

Below the platform, thousands of Match Men were herded into the pit’s throat.

The last fragment seated. The crystal blazed. It rose from the clansmen’s hands and drifted to the edge — then plunged. Gone.

The Bottomless Land, Roland understood. Lan’s word for it.

Then the pit answered.

An orange beam tore upward from the dark and impaled the sky. Brighter than the ancient witches had ever described it, brighter than the accounts warranted — and above, where the light struck the sky’s roof, the Bloody Moon hung swollen and red, the two ends of one seam. Heaven and Earth sutured together by a thread of fire.

The radiation clan swarmed the beam. He watched them reach the rim of the pit and not fall — watched them rise instead, carried upward on nothing, black specks spiraling into the column of light, absorbed into something he had no name for.

Is this the upgrade of a civilization?

Clouds crossed the beam. The black specks vanished into whatever lay beyond. Roland watched and felt the strangeness of it settle into his chest like ballast.

A deep sigh interrupted him. It arrived from everywhere at once, or from inside the bone of his skull — clear enough that he could not dismiss it as illusion, human enough that it carried weight.

Time accelerated.

The image thinned and sharpened. He saw cities around the pit now — a scatter of structures, evidence of those who had not gone. Some stayed from fear, perhaps. Some from stubbornness. Some because they could not step into an opening in the sky any more than a man could walk into a fire by choice. They watched the last few of their kind vanish up the beam like adventurers who had already spent their farewells.

The beam dimmed.

Flickered.

Went dark.

Static reclaimed the vision, and Roland expected silence — expected the story to end here, in the way histories end, with peace outlasting the event. Then he saw it.

At the far edge of the world: a wall.

He thought it was the static playing tricks. But it moved. It pressed steadily toward the pit’s site and did not stop, and when it finally resolved into scale he felt something cold drop through him. A wave taller than the Impassable Mountain Range, its crest grazing cloud, sunlight fragmenting off its face into a new false horizon. It struck the little towns in a single instant and they were simply gone — swallowed without ceremony, without any last sound he could detect.

The disaster did not pause there. Distant volcanoes cracked and split. Ash columns blackened the sky. Lightning splintered through clouds the color of bruises. Then rain. Then winter, inexorable and absolute. The earth buckled and reknit itself. When the static finally ate the last of the image, Roland caught one last frame: a glacier calving under its own weight, and through the rubble and melt, one green shoot breaking soil.

“Your Majesty.”

A hand on his shoulder, insistent.

“Your Majesty — are you alright?”

His eyes opened. The dock. The smell of sea and gunpowder. Phyllis watching him with the precise wariness of someone who has already asked twice.

“All done?” The words came out slow, as though borrowed from somewhere distant.

“Yes — all of them. Not one escaped. Their magic cores dissolved a few minutes later.” She studied him. “You were standing there like a man sleeping. Are you certain you’re alright?”

He was not certain of anything. What he had seen could not be called a dream — he retained every image, every sequence, with the clarity of something lived rather than imagined. He felt it in his body too: a weariness like centuries compressed into minutes, like having been alive much longer than he had any right to be.

He understood the sigh now.

The truth is always what you understand. Lan had told him that.

Was this the last of the Battle of Divine Will? The final record, inscribed in some medium he had never anticipated?

“I’m fine.” He exhaled slowly. “Strange phenomena only.”

“Strange phenomena.” Phyllis’s brow creased. “Your Majesty, the beam lit half the port. The Association will have noticed. We need to move.”

“Agreed.” He turned. “Back the way we came.”

Whether those were the Apostle’s memories or something older, he couldn’t yet say. But he would find the answer. He was more certain of that than he was of anything else — and he knew, with a steadiness that surprised him, that he would not have to wait long.

Chapter 1241 - God’s Eye

Translator: Transn Editor: Transn “What’s going on?” Roland tried to speak or move his body, but he was completely paralyzed. Several pictures fleeted in front of him. Numerous black dots paced back and forth around the pit like ants on the move. Slowly, a platform rose. However, compared to the giant pit, the platform was incredibly small like a mound of earth. To Roland’s surprise, he had seen buildings of the same material before. He had seen them on the mural in the Temple of the Cursed. Roland zoomed in “screen” with his mind, and the noises grew louder. The black dots turned into wriggly creatures, which were exactly the main character on the mural, the radiation clan. He suddenly remembered that this was exactly what the mural depicted. A dozen radiation clansmen ascended the platform while holding the God’s Relic. They encircled the platform, their bodies contracting and expanding alternatively, as if they were holding a kind of ceremony. Below the platform were thousands of Match Men, who were pushed into the fathomless pit before the celebrating Radiation Clan. The last piece of the Relic was inserted, and the transparent crystal became complete. It emanated a dazzling glow and drifted toward the pit. Then it plunged and disappeared from the sight. Roland suddenly realized that this was probably what Lan called the “Bottomless Land”. But this was just the beginning. Roland’s eye widened as he beheld the following scene. An orange light beam erupted from the pit and soared into the air. This was exactly what the ancient witches had described as the strange phenomenon upon entering the Dream World, but the light beam was much more intense. A “Bloody Moon” hung in the sky right across where the Erosion took place. For a split moment, the Heaven and Earth were connected, and Roland realized that the entrances to the so-called Bottomless Land and the Erosion were simply the two ends of the light beam. The Radiation Clan swarmed toward the pit as flying moths darted into the fire. But they did not plummet into the abyss. Instead, they drifted off as if supported by something and rose to the sky. In an instant, there were innumerable black dots around the light beam. Is this… the upgrade of a civilization? Clouds scudded across the black dots and the light beam. Watching those black dots enter a new realm, Roland felt the whole upgrade process extraordinary. Nevertheless, a deep sigh interrupted his train of thought. The voice reverberated across his head, so clear that Roland was positive that it was not an illusion. Then time became seemingly faster, and the pixels on the “screen” became denser. The image changed drastically. Roland saw a few cities and towns dotted around the pit. Apparently, not all the members of the Radiation Clan were willing to enter the new world. Some preferred to stay. Probably, they feared the sky and the unknown adventure ahead of them. Roland did not know. He only saw several black dots disappear into the passage that connected the Heaven and Earth, like those legendary, audacious adventurers who set off for their journey. They looked, however, extremely lonely since most of their clansmen were already gone. Now, the light beam dimmed. In the end, it flickered and then vanished. The noise screen again occupied Roland’s vision, which marked the end of the story. Roland speculated that peace would be restored eventually. The legend of the road to Heaven would become a part of the history of the Radiation Clan, a written record for future reference. Perhaps, someone else would come to seek the pit and look for the upgrade method to reach God, but this would be something many years later. When Roland thought that this was the end, a “towering wall” suddenly appeared at the end of the horizon. At first, he had thought it was an illusion, since the “noise screen” blocked his vision. However, when the “wall” approached the pit gradually, he finally saw what that was. A huge wave taller than the Impassable Mountain Range pressed in and submerged the little towns below instantly. The wave was so high that the top of it almost reached the clouds in the sky. Sun rays glazed off the wave and formed a new horizon. Roland could imagine how desperate the Radiation Clan were when they saw such a horrific scene. But the disaster did not stop here. After the tsunami, volcanos at the distance suddenly erupted. Ashes were sent flying in all directions and dimmed the sunlight. Thunderbolts cracked through the air. Then there came heavy rain and harsh winter. The geographical movement became, unprecedentedly, active. After several major disastrous transformations, the world had transformed into an entirely different look. The screen started to hiss again. The image distorted, and the pixels almost filled out the whole “screen”. Before the scene vanished, Roland saw the glacier melt, and a green plant break through the soil and sprout. “Your Majesty…” “Your Majesty, are you alright?” Someone shook Roland and looked at him apprehensively. His eyes snapped open, and the pixels disappeared. He found himself again in the port area. “All… done?” Roland mumbled as he studied his palm. Phyllis thought Roland was asking her, so she said, “Yes, we killed all of them. Not a single one fled. Their magic cores also disappeared a few minutes later. You stood rooted here like you’ve fallen asleep. Your Majesty, are you really OK?” Roland was not sure whether he was alright or not. All he had seen a moment ago did not seem like an illusion, for he could remembered all of them. They were more like some extra memories coming out from nowhere. In addition, he felt extremely exhausted, as though he had lived thousands of years in just a few minutes. He somehow understood that sigh. Roland thought of Lan’s words. “The truth is always what you understand.” Was this… the last of the Battle of Divine Will? Roland took a deep breath and said, “I’m fine. I just saw some strange phenomena.” “Strange phenomena?” Phyllis echoed while blinking. “This isn’t the time to say this, Your Majesty. The light beam just now almost lit half of the port and should have attracted a lot of attention. We must go. Otherwise, the Association will notice us.” “Got it. Let’s head back the way we came,” Roland agreed with a nod. Roland was not sure whether those were the Apostle’s memories or something else, but he believed that one day, he would find the answer to these questions. And Roland believed that day would come soon.