The World Inside the Gate

“We praise You; Your eyes beheld our destination, granting us clarity on the true meaning of death; We sing of You; Your hands carved out our path, granting us rest in the world of the dead; We remember You; Your feet guided our steps, birthing true reincarnation between life and death! Because of You, death is no longer pure terror; Because of You, life is no longer mere bleak desolation; We are granted serenity, we are granted composure, and we are granted the grace to walk this road again and again, beholding the true scenery. Supreme Samsara, Great God of Samsara, You are the world's sole truth!” From high-ranking Samsara priests down to ordinary believers, everyone began to sing the Hymn of Samsara in unison. Standing among them, one could clearly sense the thick, suffocating devoutness radiating from every person. Wrapped within such fervor, one’s soul felt as though it might choke. This was true fanaticism. For in the eyes of Samsara’s believers, it was the God of Samsara who established the cycle between life and death, ensuring their lives and deaths were no longer meaningless. This was likely the deep foundation of an orthodox religion. There were certainly selfish interests, bureaucrats, political schemes, and power struggles within the church, but none could deny its vast bedrock of fanatical believers. Yet an orthodox church such as this had been defeated on the very first day of its war with Order. In Karen’s understanding, while the Church of Order possessed the same loyalty toward the God of Order as other faiths did toward their gods, the people of Order seemed a bit more understated by comparison. Yet understated as they were, when it came down to a real fight, no matter how fanatical you were, a single slap was all it took. Declassified post-war records and circulating intelligence indicated that the Church of Order’s initial goal was simply to shorten the duration of the war and secure more advantages at the negotiating table. However, had the Church of Samsara stubbornly refused to surrender or acknowledge defeat, the Order Knights would have pressed the war forward regardless of external pressure. By now, Samsara Valley might well have been reduced to a battlefield. Of course, it was also possible that the war would have ended by now regardless. Karen and his team stood inside their “cage.” Everyone only needed to hold onto the edge with one hand to keep their footing steady. As the giant crawled forward, it took great care to keep its back balanced; as mounts went, it was exceptionally considerate. Bart said grimly, “We cannot give the Church of Samsara any chance to rise again.” From the day of victory onward, a victor always guarded against a defeated foe’s resurgence, terrified that what they had done to the loser would eventually be visited upon themselves. Blanche and Mars voiced their agreement with Bart’s sentiment. Aisli, on the other hand, was studying the Lost Giant beneath them with great curiosity. She wondered whether it counted as a type of monster beast. At any rate, she remembered her parents mentioning at home that their department head had thrown a furious tantrum during an internal meeting, complaining that the knights were terribly wasteful for pounding dozens of Lost Giants into mince. Did they think they were solving the army's ration problem? It would have been far better to capture one alive and send it back so the departments across the system could study it together; it might have yielded new value. Aisli licked her lips. It was a pity that Lost Giants were not for sale to outsiders. Well, even if a shop in Samsara Valley did sell them, it would be difficult to bring one home. What scale of teleportation array would be required to move a beast this size? Ventura kept his eyes fixed on his captain’s back. He had already resolved that no matter what danger they encountered once they passed through the gate, he would immediately shield his captain with his own body. Karen’s mind remained relatively calm, though he realized once more that the anticipated “lack of information” was becoming even more pronounced. He had originally assumed that before entering the Gate of Samsara, the thirty of them gathered here would hear a briefing or something similar. But looking at the current setup, these five Lost Giants were simply going to carry the five squads straight inside. Why was it that when useless formalities were involved, everything dragged out endlessly, yet when an actual briefing was needed, they suddenly became models of efficiency? Karen reached into his pocket and took out the booklet distributed earlier. It recorded the intelligence on the Gate of Samsara gathered by the Church of Order. Everyone had received a copy. While it certainly was not as clear or precise as the knowledge possessed by the Church of Samsara, it should barely suffice. Even so, Karen still wished he could obtain some updated information before entering. Even a weather forecast would have been nice. *Hum—* A continuous rumble echoed as the opening of the Gate of Samsara proceeded. Yet when the giant carried everyone up the steps and arrived before the Gate of Samsara, they realized the gate had only opened a tiny sliver. Even that sliver, however, was colossal. Before the Gate of Samsara, they were like ants—literal, insignificant insects. The first Lost Giant passed through the Gate of Samsara, followed by the second; the two squads from the Church of Samsara had entered. The third was the squad composed of the multiple smaller religions. The fourth was the Lost Giant carrying Muri’s squad. The fifth belonged to Karen’s squad. Before each giant entered, the squad members on its back instinctively looked over their shoulders. On the verge of entering the unknown, their hearts were filled with lingering attachment to their original world. Karen was no exception. As the giant beneath him crossed into the gate, he turned to look back. In the distance stood eight towering pillars of light, with immense, imposing figures standing within them. Those were the true prominent figures of the various religions, observing everything as representatives. Finally, the giant’s body fully entered the gate. What followed was a terrifying sense of free fall! The giant seemed to plunge downward at high speed. Everyone reflexively gripped the iron bars of the cage. Only now did they realize why the seats had a cage roof—it was to prevent them from being thrown out. “Steady, hold tight! Bart, Ventura, prepare for combat!” “Yes, Captain!” “Yes, Captain!” Karen worried that once the descent ended, everyone might immediately face danger upon hitting the ground. The weightless fall lasted nearly ten minutes, a sensation comparable to riding the cheapest long-distance teleportation array. Finally— *Bang!* A loud crash resonated. They had landed! Karen, Ventura, and Bart immediately rushed out of the cage, establishing an outward triangular defensive perimeter to give their teammates in the center room to operate. Mars began setting up a basic defensive formation, while Blanche chanted softly, the aura of a priest’s magic gathering at the tip of her wand. Aisli rolled up her sleeves, preparing to summon her most devoted and intimate friend. However, the anticipated danger did not materialize. The surroundings were deathly quiet. Beneath their feet stretched a vast expanse of gray grass. It grew thick and tall, forming a massive meadow that had cushioned the impact of the Lost Giant’s fall. Setting aside any hidden threats within the meadow itself, standing atop it offered clear visibility in all directions, which provided a certain measure of safety. Karen looked up at the sky. According to the booklet, there was no sun inside the Gate of Samsara, but there was a moon. However, the moon here did not wax or wane; it simply hung suspended in the sky. During the “day,” it was white; at “night,” it was blood-red. Yes, night inside the Gate of Samsara was blood-red, as though viewing the world through crimson lenses. Right now, the moon was gray. This was the catalyst for the opening of the Gate of Samsara. Every ten years, the moon inside the gate turned gray instead of white or red, a phenomenon lasting anywhere from seven days to a month. The booklet stated that during this period, the rules within the Samsara space shifted, blurring the boundary between the living and souls. In other words, only during this window could a living person and a soul merge without needing a soul contract. Because the supreme contract already hung in the sky. When Karen had first read this in the hotel, the interpretation that sprang to his mind was: during this period, the realm of the living and the realm of the dead were indistinguishable. “Bart, Ventura, stay on alert!” “Yes, Captain!” Karen turned and walked toward the giant. He discovered that the Lost Giant, which had remained prostrate on the ground after landing, was now being absorbed by the gray meadow. It looked as if countless needles had pierced its flesh, and its massive body was gradually shrinking. A look of relief emerged in the giant’s previously dull pupils, as if this place were its true home, its rightful resting place. So the Lost Giants originated from within the Gate of Samsara? Perhaps their species were originally natives of the gate, only to be captured by the Church of Samsara and used as slaves. Gradually, the giant’s body merged completely into the vast gray meadow, leaving only the cage behind. “Mars, set up a communication array immediately to contact Muri’s squad. Aisli, summon a flying monster beast to circle the area.” “Yes, Captain!” Karen turned, slung the Sword of Arius over his shoulder, and began jogging outward, calling back, “Bart, Ventura, tighten the perimeter. No one separates until I return!” “Yes, Captain!” Splitting up in an unknown environment was always a cardinal mistake, yet remaining together was impractical; expanding their field of vision and establishing communication were urgent and necessary tasks. Karen had no choice but to have his squad huddle together while he scouted further out alone. He had sufficient confidence in himself. Here, he could unleash his full power without restraint, free from any worry of being discovered. With the power of the Dark Moon Blade enhancing him, Karen moved swiftly toward one edge of the great meadow. The booklet contained a brief note on the meadow, mentioning that a “town” was usually located nearby. Yes, a town—that exact word was recorded in the booklet. A town in the world of the dead! Recalling what his dog had once said—that an established hierarchy and system had long formed inside the Gate of Samsara, and that the Simonsen family had even pulled off a reverse export, rising from “natives” inside the gate to become “royalty” within the Church of Samsara outside—the deliberate omissions and vague details in the booklet began to make sense. Karen wondered if this was the reality: The world outside the gate viewed the inside as a zoo, and every opening of the gate was a day to visit and observe; While the world inside the gate viewed the outside as a zoo, and every opening was a day when the outside delivered animals to be put on display. Each side believed itself to be the “origin world,” viewing the other as the world inside the gate. It was a collective cognitive bias—absurd on the surface, yet easily established. The classic example was how certain small nations or island countries placed themselves at the center of world maps and enlarged their territory, cultivating the illusion that they were the center of the world. Over time, the collective consciousness accepted itself as the center. Ahead, a settlement appeared. Karen spotted buildings, though it differed vastly from a proper “town.” It was too small, with fewer than a hundred house-like structures. Just then, a cluster of black dots emerged from the village, moving toward Karen’s position. The meadow sat on elevated ground, sloping down toward the exterior. The Eyes of the Dark Moon were not the Succubus Eye, so Karen could not discern distant details as Alfred could. However, that was of little consequence. He swirled his fingertips before him, and a mirror of condensed water mist quickly took shape. Shifting the mist mirror with his palm, the distant scene came into view, functioning like an oversized magnifying glass or telescope. This was a spell from the Sea God Religion, originally used by sailors to observe distant waters. Its practical utility was questionable, as an ordinary spyglass could achieve the same effect. Still, since he had not brought a spyglass—and having learned the spell over a meal without ever finding an occasion to use it—Karen felt rather pleased to put it to work now. Through the mirror, Karen saw that the black dots were “people”—if they could indeed be called people. They wore clothes, though crude ones, mostly woven from grass. They carried weapons made of gray crystal, including spears, sabers, and swords. The most striking difference lay in their bodies. While humanoid in shape, the skin of their faces and exposed limbs resembled an extremely swollen, flowing wax. It was not quite liquid, yet not quite solid. As they moved, their facial features actually shifted and rippled. The booklet noted that towns encountered near the meadow were generally friendly. Well, friendly. Karen did not dare take the booklet entirely at its word, especially since the first page stated: *Do not place blind faith in the contents of this booklet.* Even so, Karen observed them carefully. Although their expressions were in constant fluid motion, their excitement was palpable, as though they had stumbled upon an extraordinary blessing. Yet that alone could not confirm whether their intentions were benign; a hunter also smiled with excitement when spotting prey. “Should I try a probing attack?” Karen murmured to himself. The safest approach was to retreat to his teammates, establish a collective defense, and perhaps even summon the Black Prison Castle to set their defenses to the maximum level. However, determining the other party’s disposition beforehand would make things much simpler. *Better to test the waters first.* The perk of being the captain was that when you acted rashly, there was no captain in the squad to reprimand you for it. Karen moved forward, and as the other party advanced as well, the distance between them narrowed. Once he could see their figures clearly without relying on the spell, Karen halted. The group numbered around three hundred, spanning men, women, the elderly, and children. In all likelihood, the entire village had mobilized. If they were hunting or preparing for war, only the able-bodied would march out while the elderly, women, and children remained behind or evacuated. Even so, Karen decided to test them. He raised his arm, channeling Ancestor Allen’s fire power to summon a fire serpent. Leaping into the air, it shot toward the crowd. Under Karen’s control, the serpent did not strike them directly, deliberately veering off course to slam into the ground a short distance away. *Boom!* A spell cast from such a distance possessed minimal lethal force, amounting to little more than a firework, but its momentum was imposing. The “attacked” group halted instantly. To Karen’s surprise, every single one of them knelt prostrate upon the ground and began to worship. Karen pressed his lips together. It seemed they were indeed friendly. Moreover, it proved that this group was remarkably weak; otherwise, they would not have been terrified by such a simple display. Karen closed the distance further, allowing them to see his silhouette from afar. Upon spotting Karen, they bowed and prostrated toward him. After a moment, the rest remained kneeling while a “young girl” supporting an “old man” stepped out from the crowd, making their way toward Karen. Her female identity was discernible from her facial features; fluid as they were, they carried a distinctly feminine grace. Her youth was evident from the vitality of her form, which rippled and flowed as she walked—a literal, bona fide watery young girl. The old man’s body, on the other hand, was largely stiffened. He required assistance to walk and lacked that fluid movement, appearing more like stagnant water on the verge of freezing. Karen wondered: *Is this a species difference, or is it how soul entities manifest under the unique rules of the Gate of Samsara?* The young girl helped the elder walk until they were a hundred meters from Karen, where both knelt down once more. The elder began babbling incomprehensibly in an unfamiliar tongue... yet Karen understood. They were truly soul entities; they communicated not through sound, but through soul fluctuations. “How many years has it been? How many years... Not since my grandfather’s generation has an Auspice descended upon this altar! To think that before my dissipation, I would witness the descent of an Auspice once more, and see hope for our village’s revival!” The young girl looked at Karen with wide-eyed curiosity and asked: “Lord Auspice, did you come out from inside the gate?”