Chapter Forty-Nine: History and Conclusion

In the otherworld, the musician waved both hands lightly, as if conducting an invisible orchestra, while Walton had already descended from the sky, though his expression remained hardly relaxed.

All the crows and undead were indeed crushed by Walton, but their lingering soul power vanished in that instant, as if it had evaporated completely in a heartbeat. Standing by, neither Walton nor the musician noticed anything out of the ordinary—not even a trace.

Walton had two suspicions. First, that some terrifying presence had followed him into the Black Castle, a being so powerful and strange that even he could not detect it. The second possibility was that the issue lay with the Soul-Sea Saber.

Suddenly, Walton regretted having so casually handed the blade to Mulan. In truth, it wasn’t just the imperial family who valued Mulan highly—so did he.

Mulan Jonster was widely hailed as the most outstanding talent discovered in recent years. His integrity, unyielding will, formidable execution, and intelligence and courage that surpassed the ordinary were all exceedingly rare. What’s more, his perception and intuition were uncannily sharp, signifying a deep affinity for the arcane.

Thus, even the usually nonchalant Walton made his way straight to Mulan’s residence after leaving the otherworld.

Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

Walton’s knocking was somewhat urgent. The musician, who had accompanied him, gazed at the blood-stained feathers scattered all over the ground outside—dark with streaks of red, they were everywhere, and somewhat more concentrated here.

After a long while, Mulan came to the door and saw Walton and the musician waiting outside.

“Ah, Sir, is something the matter?”

“Didn’t you notice anything strange at Black Castle today?”

Mulan glanced at the feathers outside, nodded, and replied, “Indeed, the crows have been flying about madly. In such a situation, I didn’t dare to wander freely, especially when they all suddenly exploded. Now that you’re here, does that mean it’s over?”

Walton smiled. “No wonder you’ve survived the battlefield; you’ve got a strong heart. Yes, it’s over for now. By the way, I just remembered—I need the Soul-Sea Saber to draft a report for Her Majesty the Queen. May I borrow it for a while?”

“Of course.”

Mulan turned and walked to the kitchen, retrieving the saber, which seemed as if it had never been moved, and handed it to Walton. The latter took it casually, smiling apologetically.

“I promise it’ll still be yours.”

Mulan also smiled. “I have my own sword.”

“Oh, right—it’s called Fang, isn’t it? I know a fine smithy. You could have your sword polished there. The address is here…”

Walton pulled a small notebook from his pocket, tore out a page, and, with a gentle swipe of his hand across the paper, burned in an address—lines of scorch marks replacing ink.

“Thank you.”

Mulan accepted the note, and the two took their leave.

Not until they had walked far did Mulan finally close the door. He sat at the kitchen table, his heart unable to find calm for a long time.

The phantom he had just seen was all too familiar to him—it was the corpse from his dreams. The sense of familiarity ran deeper still; in fact, it greatly resembled a sketch Mulan had drawn in his previous life: a figure with enormous wings, armored and cloaked, standing in shadow, named “The Second Apostle.”

In his nightmares, due to the odd perspective, Mulan hadn’t recognized it. But today, the feeling was overwhelmingly strong.

Why “Second Apostle”? There was a period when Mulan, overtaken by adolescent pretensions, used the nickname “First Apostle” everywhere—from games to social media.

Confronted by a character so near to one of his own creation, appearing in such a fleeting, illusory fashion, Mulan could not say whether he felt fear or excitement. He only knew this was not something he could ever tell another soul.

More troubling to Mulan, however, was the significance of what had just transpired.

There was no doubt—the Apostle was dead, and that cold, indifferent gaze in the chaos belonged to an evil god. In that instant, Mulan had felt the weight of that gaze and, with it, overwhelming terror. Every muscle and cell in his body seemed to convulse, sharp pain prickling his skin, as if each cell had developed its own will and wished to flee his flesh.

Yet Mulan understood—there was no malice in those eyes, but neither was there kindness. It was a feeling even more unbearable than cruelty: indifference.

Human suffering, human glory, human longing, even humanity’s very existence—none of it mattered to that gaze. It watched the flow of chaos, the twisting of desire, the direction of the world.

With fear came a powerful sense of insignificance.

...

York District Police Station, Mulan’s office. Piles of books from the Black Castle’s library covered his desk. Only Mulan and Elvin were present; for several days, Hendel had been sent out by Mulan to help handle police affairs in York.

If there was anyone Mulan trusted, besides family (who he preferred kept away from the arcane), it was undoubtedly Elvin.

Of course, Mulan could not possibly reveal the entire truth about his dreams and visions—they were too private and too fantastic—but he could describe them as prophetic dreams, sharing his feelings in hopes of untangling certain mysteries.

“Mulan, see here: the Sanctum records that when ancient rituals reached a turning point, evil cultists discovered that their prayers to certain great beings were answered far more powerfully than by the old ceremonies…”

Mulan flipped through a thick tome, reading aloud a line he found: “Something in the chaos was stirred. No response was given in terms of information, but a tremendous magical feedback was received. The wizards upon the Ice Peaks believed they had discovered vast reserves of magical power in some alien dimension, and were wild with joy…”

“In the Era of the Feudal Evil Moon, the cultist Gutons underwent monstrous transformation. Some say he mixed the wrong metamorphosis potion and could never return to human form; others claim he performed a ritual that granted him power far beyond what he could withstand.”

Mulan read with a furrowed brow, while Elvin scanned pages at a glance, quickly finding another useful entry.

“Here, here!”

Mulan leaned over as Elvin read aloud: “The slumbering true god felt a terrible gaze from the chaos. The god realized that humanity’s creativity, combined with their equally terrible desires, had opened a dreadful door. The god awoke from sleep and cast holy light upon the world!”

Elvin made the sign of prayer, hands crossed, then looked at Mulan.

“Perhaps you should study the path of prophecy, Mulan. I must say, what you’ve described is very close to divine omen! Yet what you fear is precisely what the Sanctum strives to prevent.”

Yet Elvin’s expression was far from optimistic, and Mulan noticed.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that—even bathed in the true god’s holy light, some human greed is inevitable. Even in the Sanctum, there are those who stray from the god’s teachings…”

Mulan understood. The Sanctum, as a vast organization whose influence spanned most of the world and counted countless believers, was bound to breed corruption and power struggles. Now that Elvin was held in high regard by the upper ranks, he could hardly avoid witnessing it himself, making him realize that the Sanctum was not so pure.

“What is it? Are any of the archbishops giving you special attention?”

Elvin knew that Mulan was far more worldly than he, but hadn’t expected him to be so perceptive.

Mulan patted Elvin’s shoulder. “It’s written all over your face. With me, it doesn’t matter, but in front of them, you need to be more careful.”

“Do you think I understand nothing? All else is illusory—only one’s own cultivation and devotion to the god truly matter.”

...

Mulan and Elvin worked tirelessly. Few labored over the basics and fringe knowledge as they did. Yet the books from the Black Castle and Sanctum offered no systematic history—unlike dynastic chronicles, the arcane world’s records brimmed with legend and exaggeration, making the truth hard to pin down. Only broad, contested directions existed.

But Mulan, with his perspective beyond this era and the insight of his dreams, and Elvin as well, had drawn their own conclusions—ones that both mirrored and deepened a mainstream view in the arcane world.

In this world, many, through ancient traditions or their own experimentation, sought to gain things to satisfy their desires.

Just as science ever advances, seekers of the arcane have never ceased their quests. One day, inevitably or by chance, someone discovered methods to connect to great beings, causing the mysterious feedback from the chaos to surge—and from there, things spiraled out of control.

Over time, experience weeded out many mad methods, but not the madmen themselves—leading to ever more conflicts and wars.

Arcane scholars made progress in their studies of the gods. Those beings that answered prayers and rituals with unimaginable power came to be called gods.

The native faith of the Holy Light had archbishops to spread divine will, restrain believers, and eradicate evil.

As for those gods dwelling in chaos, they, too, seemed to possess consciousness—yet they rarely answered prayers, and yet sometimes granted every wish whose conditions were met, in an uncontrollable relationship that many scholars considered extremely dangerous.

Under the influence of the gods, powerful and uncontrollable mystical elements sometimes emerged during ancient rituals—these were called relics. Their creation was almost impossible to control, yet they contained unfathomable power, always carrying danger along with their might.

Since ancient times, the Sanctum, as the old faith, had warned the world of the dangers of relics and struck at evil by all means, but could never keep pace with the ever-expanding desires of humanity.

All this could be deduced from the books, but Mulan and Elvin both knew not to trust blindly. Even the Sanctum, in fighting evil, often had no choice but to use the power of relics.

Mulan and Elvin now understood: just as it was perilous for ordinary people to peer into the otherworld, so too was it dangerous for those mad with desire to seek power from chaos and evil gods. The abyss gazes also into you.

Perhaps others had reached similar conclusions, and perhaps they were not alone in their understanding. But at their stage, none could claim deeper insight than Mulan and Elvin.