Chapter 968: A Piece of the Mystery Unravels
Roland’s chest tightened.
The style of that opening sentence—the tone of it—echoed the eulogies of the Union survivors. The same pessimism. The same exhausted certainty that ordinary people could not win against the demons. He could almost feel the despair behind the handwriting.
The world is so distorted, yet we are totally unaware of it.
Though we know that the Force of Nature comes from the Erosion loopholes, we still treat it as a gift from the deities—simply because of the vast powers it gives us.
This granting of power lets us feel chosen. It has also blinded our eyes.
It is time for us to awaken.
Though I don’t know if it is already too late.
A single short paragraph—and Roland was already agitated. As the creator of the Dream World, he felt these words pressing too close. Had someone realized this world was a fabricated dream and wanted to warn everyone inside it to wake up? He could leave by waking. Where would these people end up?
He put that aside and kept reading.
The author’s empathy with the Force of Nature was exact. The feeling of transformation into an Extraordinary exceeded almost anything that came from political power or authority. No one who had that feeling would willingly attribute it to a catastrophe. Even those who knew the truth would not want to relinquish the power, and so they would not allow themselves to think too closely about what stopping the apocalypse might mean.
In the next dozen pages, the book set aside its opening argument entirely. It turned, instead, to a different question: why was mankind the only species capable of exerting the Force of Nature?
The photographs and excerpts were drawn from modern scientific experiments and archaeological findings. Each one spoke to that same theme.
There is already enough evidence to show that intelligence is not the key to awakening the Force of Nature. Throughout history, there have been Fallen Evil who were mentally retarded, as well as martialists who possessed their powers from birth. Strip away human intelligence, and we are fundamentally indistinguishable from other animals. Our genes are the same. Our origins are the same. Our behaviors and instincts are the same. Whether it is a frog, a snake, or a lizard, warm sunshine treats everyone equally—so why doesn’t the Force of Nature behave in the same manner?
Is it because humans are the lucky ones on the evolutionary path? Roland had that thought, and then saw that the author had anticipated it precisely.
Most people use luck as an excuse—just as the geocentric theory was once used to explain everything about the sky. In fact, the Earth is not the center of the universe. And humans are not the only species that can use the Force of Nature.
Through observing history, we can see that records of civilization sometimes show a fission-like split—sporadic bursts of sudden development. For example, in the myths that have survived to the present, descriptions of extraordinary abilities are concentrated around a period roughly two thousand years ago—far earlier than the anthropological records of man. It seemed as if humanity had a sudden awakening, and from it derived unbelievable strength. The number of descriptions of enemies also increased accordingly. Whether demons, beasts, monsters, or aliens—different shapes, different forms—they shared one common point: a common person could not defeat them. Only the awakened heroes were worthy opponents.
Although there is no direct evidence, I have always believed that those alien species were not figments of imagination conjured out of thin air, but real, living beings. Their abilities were like ours. This is why the mythology of that period feels so vivid.
He read on.
At this point, the reader may object: ancient mosquitoes preserved their remains in amber, yet these alien species left nothing. That sounds like a convenient excuse. On the other hand, it is precisely because they disappeared without trace—despite so many vivid mentions of them—that they command our attention. There are incredible relics all over the world. Buildings and monuments that bear no resemblance to the construction styles of the people who supposedly built them. Some are far too sophisticated to have been produced by those populations. We have stubbornly classified these as divergent branches of our own civilization and credited the works to local leaders. This is a gross overestimation of human capability.
In order to find more answers, I have visited each of those monuments one by one. In this journey, I made some surprising discoveries—although the aliens left no bones or hair, the markings engraved in the stone have not disappeared. In a secret chamber inside the ruins of a volcano, I saw the record of an alien civilization written through carvings on the walls.
He turned to the page and stopped.
He was certain now. This was a book created inside the Dream World—he had never seen the black-and-white photographs of those ancient buildings before his transmigration. And the volcanic ruins the martialist described bore an unmistakable resemblance to the demons’ Blackstone Pagoda.
It was not a coincidence that they acquired the Force of Nature and then fought against humankind. This was like a meeting arranged by the deities—and they regarded defeating their adversaries as repayment of the power bestowed upon them.
I know that describing the carvings in words alone is inadequate. But I could feel it—if humans could learn their language, the most appropriate term would probably be: the Battle of Divine Will.
What Lan was referring to… came from here?
Roland’s tongue felt dry. He kept reading.
But this is not what I meant to focus on. If this power was granted solely for a single war, then it would have ended long ago. Whatever the deities were, they would have had no further business with mankind after that battle. But some things are worse than we thought. According to the writing on the sculptures—this was not the first time they had done this.
The handwriting changed here—becoming looser, the ink blotted in places, as though the writer’s hand had grown unsteady. The words came with more hesitation.
These aliens did not originate on the same planet as us. The outbreak of the war brought about a drastic change in their home environment, and they were well-prepared for that change. It was not a gradual shift—not like a forest slowly becoming desert, or a nomadic people slowly building farms. I don’t know how to describe this properly. The closest analogy I can give is an electron jumping between energy levels in an atomic transition. Before the change, there is a stable level of energy. Then, suddenly, a jump—directly to a higher level, with no intermediate stage, no process. Their civilization advanced in the blink of an eye.
Frankly, I do not even want to imagine how many such changes they have already been through. But now that they no longer exist, why does the Erosion and the Awakening still continue? Or does this mean—the Battle of Divine Will has never ended in the first place?
The more I consider this, the more terrified I become. What kind of world are we living in? Are the Fallen Evil truly martialists who surrendered to the temptation of power? I feel as if I have been caught in a vortex.
If the answer is no—what exactly are we facing?
The so-called gifts and rewards are all lies.
The only difference has been the change in—
The writing stopped. A long line of scratches ran down the page where the pen had dragged—as though the author had simply lost all strength at once and let his hand fall.
Roland sat very still.
“Doesn’t anyone know who the author is?”
“Why would it say unknown if the author were known? Apparently, the author died before he could finish writing, and the Association was never able to find any record of who he really was.”
The chill rose from the soles of his feet.
The book was saturated with a strange doubling—it described the Dream World as though from outside, yet always with the feeling of something already seen. Too much familiarity. Too many echoes.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Garcia.
Whatever questions he had, they were too urgent to sit with.
Just then, his elbow caught the book. It slid off the table, and a red note slipped out from between the last blank pages and fluttered to the floor.
Roland stared at it for a moment before bending to pick it up.
Two rows of small print.
When the divine meaning appears, meet at the appointed time.
Rose Café, No. 302.
Chapter 968: A Piece of the Mystery Unravels
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Roland’s heart sank.
This style of opening resembled the eulogies of the Union survivors—that common people would never be able to defeat the demons. Through the handwriting, he could even imagine the pessimism and despair of the writer.
“The world is so distorted, yet we are totally unaware of it.”
“Though we know that the Force of Nature comes from the Erosion loopholes, yet we still treat it as a gift from the deities simply because of the vast powers it gives us.”
“This granting of power lets us feel lucky to be a part of it, yet it has also blinded our eyes.”
“It is time for us to awaken.”
“Though I don’t know if it is already too late.”
A single short paragraph had already caused Roland to become quite agitated. As the creator of the Dream World, he felt that these words were implying something. Could it be that someone had realized this world was just a made-up dream and wanted to warn everyone to wake up from it? Roland could return to reality upon awakening, but where would these people end up?
Regarding that paragraph about the Force of Nature, he strongly empathized with the author’s thoughts.
The feeling of empowerment derived from transforming into an Extraordinary was far greater than that of being a political leader. No one would want to attribute all their power to a catastrophe. Even if they knew the truth, they would not bear to lose their power and hence would not even entertain the thought of stopping the apocalypse.
In the next dozens of pages, the book did not delve further into the conclusion made in the opening but changed directions—questioning why only mankind was capable of exerting the Force of Nature.
The photos and extracts were all from different modern scientific experiments and archaeological findings. Their descriptions and contents were all related to the main theme of the book.
“There is already enough evidence to show that intelligence is not the key to awakening the Force of Nature. Throughout history, there have been Fallen Evil that were mentally retarded, as well as martialists who had their powers from the moment of their birth. Without human intelligence, we are fundamentally the same as other animals, and in fact, we are highly similar. Our genes are the same, and so are our origins, as well as our behaviors and instincts. Whether it is a frog, a snake or a lizard, the warm sunshine will treat everyone equally, so why doesn’t the Force of Nature behave in the same manner?”
“Is it because humans are the lucky ones on the evolutionary path?” Roland suddenly came up with this idea and found that the writer seemed to have read his mind. “Most people use luck as an excuse, just like the geocentric theory of the past—but in fact, the Earth is not the center of the universe. Humans are not the only species that can use the Force of Nature.”
“Through observing history, we can see that records of civilization sometimes shown a fission-like split in development that occurs in sporadic bursts. For example, in the myths that have spread to the present, the descriptions of extraordinary abilities are mostly focused on a period around 2000 years ago—this was much earlier than the anthropological records of man. It seemed as if we had a sudden awakening, and from that, we derived unbelievable strength. The number of descriptions of the enemies also increased accordingly. Whether it was demons, beasts, monsters, or aliens,
they all had different shapes and forms, but they also had a common point: a common person could not defeat them, and only the awakened heroes were capable of being their worthy opponents.”
“Although there is no direct evidence, I have always believed that those alien species were not figments of the imagination that the ancients conjured up out of thin air but rather real living species. Their abilities were like ours, and that was why the mythology of that period was so vivid.”
“At this moment, the reader might think of excuses such as the ancient mosquitoes who could preserve their remains in amber, yet these alien species did not leave any remains. This excuse might sound a little farfetched. On the other hand, it is because they disappeared without a trace despite so many mentions of them that they grab our attention, right? There are so many incredible relics in the world, many of which are buildings and monuments that were completely different from the construction styles of the people of that era. Some of these buildings were even far too advanced to be built by the people of that era. However, we have still stubbornly classified them as divergent branches of our own civilization and credited the works to the local indigenous leaders. This is a gross overestimation of the capabilities of humans.”
“In order to find more answers, I have visited each of those monuments one by one. Throughout this journey, I made some surprising discoveries— although the aliens did not leave any bones or hair, the markings engraved on the stones have not disappeared. In a secret chamber inside a volcano’s ruins, I saw the record of an alien civilization written through the various carvings on the walls.”
As he turned to this page, Roland was convinced that this was indeed a book created in the Dream World—he had never seen the black and white photos of the ancient buildings before his transmigration, and what was even more conspicuous was that the volcanic remains that the martialist mentioned at the end looked eerily similar to the demons’ Blackstone Pagoda!
“It was not a coincidence that they acquired the Force of Nature and then fought against humankind. This was like a meeting arranged by the deities,
and they regarded defeating the adversaries as a repayment of the power bestowed upon them by the deities.”
“I know that it is hard to describe the carving with words alone, but I could feel it—if humans could learn their language, then I think the most appropriate term would probably be the Battle of Divine Will.”
What Lan was referring to… came from here?
Roland licked his slightly dry lips and continued reading.
“But this is not what I meant to focus on—if this power was granted just for a single war alone, then it would have ended a long time ago. No matter what the deities were, they would have no longer have had anything to do with mankind after that war. However, some things are worse than we thought. According to the writing on the sculptures… this was not the first time that they had done something like this.”
The handwriting slowly became less tidy, as the number of ink dots and emotional words increased. It seemed as if the writer was hesitant about whether or not he should continue writing.
“These aliens did not live on the same planet as us from the very beginning. The outbreak of the war had brought about a drastic change in their home environment, though they were well-prepared for that change. It was not as simple as a forest degenerating into a desert, or a nomadic tribe progressing into a farming civilization step by step. Dammit, I don’t know how to express this part of the concept. I can provide a less appropriate example. Such a change is like electrons jumping between energy levels in an atomic transition. Before the change, it was at a certain stable level of energy. But then, the change happened, and it immediately gained energy, directly transitioning to a higher level, with no process or intermediate stage. It was like their civilization jumped to a higher level in the blink of an eye.”
“Frankly speaking, I do not even want to imagine how many such changes they have already gone through. But now that they no longer exist, why does the Erosion and the Awakening still continue? Or does this mean that… the Battle of Divine Will had never ended in the first place?”
“The more I wonder about this question, the more I feel terrified. What kind of world are we living in? Are the Fallen Evil really martialists that have been tempted by power? I feel like I have been caught up in a vortex.”
“If the answer is no, then what exactly are we facing?”
“The so-called gifts and rewards are all lies.”
“The only difference has been the change in—”
The writing stopped abruptly and left only a long line of scratches behind. It seemed as if the author had suddenly lost all his strength and let the pen fall down.
“—Doesn’t anyone know who the author is?”
“Why would it be written as unknown if the author were known? Apparently, the author died before he could finish writing the book, and the Association couldn’t find any records regarding him.”
As he recalled the previous conversation, Roland could not help but feel a chill rise from the soles of his feet.
It would be unnecessary to elaborate as the book had too many parts that were filled with a strange atmosphere—it was clearly recounting the Dream World, yet there was always a feeling of deja vu.
He could not wait to pull out the phone and call Garcia.
In any case, there were just too many questions in his mind that he needed Garcia to answer.
Just then, his elbow knocked aside the book, and a red note slipped out of it.
Roland was surprised for a second, after which he bent to pick it up.
He saw two rows of small print.
“When the divine meaning appears, meet at the appointed time.”
“Rose Café, No. 302.”