The God of Eternal

Cursing was inevitable; hatred was unavoidable. He had already laid all the psychological groundwork, had practically hypnotized himself into accepting the end, waiting for it to be over—only for the patient in the next bed, long covered by a white sheet, to suddenly sit bolt upright. The feeling was agonizing. It was like being at the edge of the deepest slumber, just about to hug the pillow and close your eyes for a good night's sleep, when a shrill alarm clock suddenly blared. All the prior preparations had to be overturned, everything had to begin anew, and his churning fury had to find an outlet. Yet even while cursing and hating, a seed of gratitude remained in his heart. Though it was merely a fleeting resonance forged across an entire era under specific circumstances, there was no denying that this "single gesture" from the previous God of Order had helped him. Facing the hunger addiction, if that god could do it, why couldn't he? This wasn't some damn male competitiveness; often, what people feared most wasn't endurance or perseverance, but the inability to see the light of victory. At the same time, people feared loneliness. When slowly groping forward alone down an isolated path, one would eventually lapse into the daze of self-doubt. If at that moment a silhouette appeared ahead, the warmth and emotion it brought was beyond words, yet it could grant a tremendous surge of spiritual vigor. Bern had once told Karen that he never felt lonely, because he believed that within the Church of Order, there were many, many people like him dedicated to making the church as great as it could be. Now, Karen saw one as well. Though that figure was someone he had despised, mocked, and criticized in the past, at this moment, on this road, he was truly the only one who could offer Karen spiritual solace. Clinging desperately to the edge of the giant palm with both hands, Karen hung suspended in midair. From below, a steadily strengthening suction took hold. He knew his resistance was somewhat unrealistic, and he knew that mere spiritual encouragement could hardly exert a direct, obvious influence on objective reality. But at least now, he would not go down on his knees. Even if the end result was the same, he would wring out every last drop of his strength. Yet as the suction intensified, Karen's hands slipped from the giant palm, and he began to plummet. His consciousness began to splinter. It was a bizarre sensation, and very gentle—there was no pain of tearing or slicing, but rather his memories, his emotions, and his cognition were divided into separate individual pages. The ultimate outcome would be to bind them into a single volume or dissect them into distinct chapters and sections as needed. This, too, was profoundly cruel. In the past, it was always Karen who borrowed the power of the hunger addiction to devour others; now, it was finally his turn to experience it. *Hum!* Suddenly, a pair of black wings appeared. Just before Karen fell into the statue's cavernous mouth, it intercepted him. It was hard to fathom how Thousand Phantoms had managed to survive when the foul, reeking ocean of divine pollution had submerged everything here. Yet it had endured. Not only had it endured, but at this critical juncture, it had stepped in to save Karen. Perhaps the environment was indeed perilous for Thousand Phantoms, but after all... it was a creature born from the most vicious and treacherous river within the Door of Samsara. Most living beings acquired and supplemented their skills later in life, but this time, Thousand Phantoms relied entirely on its juvenile instincts. And that was precisely why the gatekeeper within the Door of Samsara had chosen it as a pet. Its wings flapped furiously as Thousand Phantoms tried to carry Karen away, but the perimeter of the soul space had long since been sealed off layer upon layer. Karen had ceased to be the master of this body and soul; he had become an "intruder." The true master—this colossal statue—had already reached out a hand, intent on crushing the moth that had flown into its house. Thousand Phantoms darted and dodged, but it was nothing more than an exercise in futility. Soon, the giant hand locked down the surrounding space, pinning Thousand Phantoms and Karen in place. Thousand Phantoms felt bitter misery inside. Although following Karen meant it was often well-fed, it truly had no desire to end up as someone else's meal. Looking back now, it would have been better off pulling barges in the Abyssal Sea—at least it would still be alive. There was nowhere for it to plead its case either. Who could have foreseen that the master it served would suddenly become a mere guest one day? The colossal statue began to rise. Its full bulk had not been completely revealed until now. With open jaws, it sought to swallow Karen in a single gulp. Karen did not choose to wait for death again. Instead, he spread his arms wide. One black Chain of Order after another materialized. Yet the Chains of Order, which could normally bind all things, appeared fragile and pathetic before this colossal statue. Karen did not halt his resistance. Marshalling every ounce of his remaining ability, he continuously summoned the Chains of Order. Chains of Order manifested ceaselessly, only to shatter continuously, doing nothing to impede the statue's movements in the slightest. Moreover, many of the subsequent chains summoned actually extended directly from the statue's own body. This meant that the statue—or rather, the hunger addiction—was itself one of the sources of Karen's power. His unique ability of Awakening originated from it as well. Attempting to restrict it using its own power was clearly unrealistic. *Roar!* A low roar rumbled from the colossal statue's throat. Its gaping maw had already engulfed Karen and Thousand Phantoms and was about to close. At this moment, it could sense the official arrival of its own era. "Chains of Order!" As the very end drew near, Karen summoned a chain shimmering with golden radiance directly from the colossal statue's mouth. The instant his fingers touched it, Karen was certain: this was the very chain he had been desperately searching for! It could help him recharge the Awakened, freeing them from the fate of inevitable demise three days after being awakened! In the previous era, the God of Order had relied on this very chain to awaken twelve fallen powerhouses, forming the Twelve Knights of Order loyal to him! With it in his grasp, the coffins he had left in the performance hall of Allen Manor could finally see the light of day again. Old Saman, Count Rekar—they would all be able to sit up once more and embark on a new life. Yet the greatest irony was that he had only found it right before his demise. All along, it had been hidden inside the statue's body, in the deepest depths of the hunger addiction. It was a paradox. If he had never suppressed the hunger addiction from the beginning, this most special chain might have been triggered long ago. It was precisely his continuous policy of suppressing the hunger addiction that had kept him from finding it. But conversely, if he hadn't suppressed the hunger addiction, he would have perished long ago; even if he had obtained it, what meaning would it have had? Of course, it was meaningless now anyway. Karen wrapped the golden-shimmering chain around his body. Thousand Phantoms folded its wings, and as the giant mouth clamped shut, even the final sliver of light was completely drained away. "Heh." Karen raised his head with a faint smile, waiting for the final act of swallowing. What did this feeling resemble? It felt like having just unearthed a chest of treasure in one's backyard, only to drop dead of a sudden heart attack from sheer excitement. *Crack... Crack... Crack...* The invisible force bore down completely. Karen was forced onto his knees. The only thing he could do now was tuck Thousand Phantoms' wings in. After all, Thousand Phantoms had just saved him once. This time, he had no way to save it; he could only hold it tight in his embrace and let himself be devoured first. Memories, emotions, and cognition officially began to detach. Karen's consciousness turned into scattered flecks of radiance, beginning to dissipate. He was truly being "translated" from a living organism into a dossier folder; or like an animal in a slaughterhouse, its parts carved away and sent to different processing plants to be fashioned into specific foods, its individual existence utterly erased. Yet the golden chain suddenly flickered with a faint light. It seemed to have sensed something and resonated with it. Karen was actually very clean right now. The prior wave of divine pollution had swept away nearly all the attachments on him, even severing his symbiosis contracts. Yet there was one thing that was the most primordial of existences—bloodline. Amidst the final lingering trace of consciousness, Karen, who had already reached his end, suddenly opened his eyes once more. Perhaps the extent of his current existence was limited only to what his eyes could see, and what they saw was not concrete form, but deeply abstract light and shadow. Bloodline... The Immorales family belief system? No, it wasn't that. No matter how powerful the Immorales family belief system that Diss had personally bestowed upon his favorite grandson was, it could not withstand the direct onslaught of divine pollution. In this era, Diss had condensed three godhead fragments. He was a genuine genius, a figure who dared threaten an entire orthodox church on his own. Yet, he was not a god after all. However, there was another bloodline flowing within Karen's body: the maternal lineage of the Arte family. This was a cursed bloodline, even if it originated from... the blessing of the God of Eternal. Mr. Luther's divine pollution had failed to overwhelm Order's hunger addiction, and it had failed to overwhelm the Arte family bloodline as well. That was the root of the Arte family's tragic plight over countless years. It was simply too precious, too potent, which was why it had been pursued so fanatically, becoming the symbol of vows and love. The blessing from the God of Eternal had not only survived, but upon coming into contact with this golden chain, it underwent an anomaly. A vibrant crimson hue slowly seeped out, as though a certain vitality had truly been awakened at this moment, harboring a cadence akin to a beating heart. The originally golden chain was dyed red alongside it. The colossal statue's swallowing motion paused. Its massive frame stood rooted in place, its head beginning to scan the surroundings. It sensed a peculiar aura—an aura that filled it with trepidation. The previous era could be divided into three stages: The first was the era of the Divine War, when the camp of the new god, Light, launched a war against the camp of the old god, Eternal. The second was the era when the God of Light illuminated the world and enlightened mankind, which was also the era when Order rose. The third was the era when the God of Order reigned supreme after the God of Light mysteriously fell. Due to the extinction of the Church of Light, the academic world of divine history had shifted away from simply arguing the legitimacy of Light replacing Eternal; the consensus had flipped to the belief that the disappearance of the God of Eternal had left the old gods without a true leader, ultimately causing them to lose the Divine War. Raniedal had told Karen personally that the God of Eternal fell because he had pursued the taboo power of time. Therefore, if one had to rank the three most universally acknowledged strongest chief deities of the previous era, the positions were virtually fixed: the God of Eternal, the God of Light, and the God of Order. All three had once ruled as hegemons of the divine realm. Now, Eternal's blessing had brushed against Order's Awakening. Through the unseen workings of fate, it was as if two supreme chief deities of the past had made contact at this moment, their primordial essences intertwining. ... *Boom!* In the center of a snow-swept polar expanse, a fissure suddenly split open. Thick layers of ice tilted upward, and an ancient temple slowly surfaced from below. No life existed in this place. The chief deity worshipped by this temple had long lost his lineage, and there were no longer any believers left in the world. Yet the surrounding wind and snow converged at this moment, taking the shape of armored giants serving as an honor guard; overhead, phantom silhouettes of flying monster beasts appeared, wheeling and circling above it. Many more detailed presences re-manifested as phantom forms. Likely no one would ever know that on this day, such a palace had appeared in this forbidden zone of life. Through endless ages and changing eras, it had always remained. The ruthless chisel of time had seemingly failed to scrape away the slightest mark from it. This included the trail of footprints along the outer wall of the palace, as well as the melted patch at the base of the wall formed by a certain warm liquid trickling down. Everything associated with him—whether in the past, the present, or the future—would become eternal. Amidst continuous rumbles, the temple gates slowly parted. A solemn, dignified overture sounded, echoing across the surroundings, only to fade into nothingness within the grander blizzard. This was a vacant temple, a dwelling place for a god; yet now, it had appeared. It was waiting, waiting for its master... to return. Purr wept in Little Kanna's embrace. Kevin lay on the windowsill, unbothered by the claw marks across its body; after all, Purr had scratched it, and it didn't hurt. Kevin tilted its canine head, gazing at the moon in the sky outside the window. It remembered that night when that guy named Karen had brought two bottles of beer to watch the moon with it. He wasn't an easy person to get along with. He was selfish, suspicious, and cautious, yet at the same time, he harbored the exact opposites of those traits. Now, that guy who had once kept it company under the moon, and who had peeked into the story of the moon inside its heart... was probably gone. If time could turn back, it would probably tell him not to leave Rojia City. The scenery outside wasn't really that great anyway. Because as you watched, the scenery might still be there, but the person would be gone. *Heh.* A smile parted Kevin's dog mouth. It deliberately shifted its body, doing its best to keep Purr from seeing. Order is returning. Yet this Order was not the one it had once known. Kevin's smile vanished abruptly, its canine eyes blinking as a trace of moisture gathered within them. It had trembled beneath the feet of the previous God of Order countless times; perhaps few in this world knew better than it just how terrifying that supreme being truly was. But with that man, whatever task you performed for him, as long as it was done well, he would give you a reward. When it had completed his bidding and gingerly hinted about whether he could fulfill his promise to help it deal with the Sea God— Now, that guy who had once kept it company under the moon, and who had peeked into the story of the moon inside its heart... was probably gone. If time could turn back, it would probably tell him not to leave Rojia City. The scenery outside wasn't really that great anyway. Because as you watched, the scenery might still be there, but the person would be gone. *Heh.* A smile parted Kevin's dog mouth. It deliberately shifted its body, doing its best to keep Purr from seeing. Order is returning. Yet this Order was not the one it had once known. Kevin's smile vanished abruptly, its canine eyes blinking as a trace of moisture gathered within them. It had trembled beneath the feet of the previous God of Order countless times; perhaps few in this world knew better than it just how terrifying that supreme being truly was. But with that man, whatever task you performed for him, as long as it was done well, he would give you a reward. When it had completed his bidding and gingerly hinted about whether he could fulfill his promise to help it deal with the Sea God... ...the god, who was keeping his daughter company at the time, handed his daughter a piece of candy, lightly clapped his hands, and said, "Let's go." A chief deity's fate had been decided just like that. As simple... as stepping out to buy a pack of cigarettes. As for this one, he shared that same virtue: so long as you helped him with all your heart and might, he would grant you a return. Having once been a god himself, Raniedal knew all too well that the seemingly self-evident principle of "keeping one's word" did not actually hold sway in this world, especially when the gap in strength and status between both sides was vast. In such cases, it often became a hopeless luxury. Right at that moment, however, one of Raniedal's dog legs began to twitch. Its eyes widened in astonishment, because it sensed a familiar aura. It would bet that in this world—no, even across the previous era, most gods would never recognize the origin of this aura! For it belonged to a fallen hegemon. That hegemon's camp had taken part in the Divine War, yet that hegemon had never appeared on the battlefield, because the marker of the era before last drawing to a close was the disappearance of that very hegemon! Yet it had once searched for traces of that hegemon in a bitterly cold forbidden zone of life, and it had even left behind an "I was here" mark at the corner of that enclosing wall. Because that hegemon, just like him, had pursued the taboos of time. "Eternal... Eternal... The aura of Eternal..." Raniedal's jaw dropped so wide it nearly tumbled off the windowsill. "So, the God of Eternal... didn't fail after all?" Inside the subterranean cave. Leaning against the stone door, Memphis had turned deathly pale. Shrouded in divine pollution, he had fallen into unconsciousness, murmuring in his sleep, "Karen... Uncle will wait for you to come out... Uncle won't abandon you..." A red thread drifted out from his body, extending slowly until it sank into that writhing, human-shaped pool of black oil. ... *Bang!* A red chain shattered the confinement from above and descended, coming before the colossal statue. From the statue's mouth seeped an identical red chain, and the two chains began to intertwine and merge. The statue began to tear and bite, flailing its colossal arms, but it could not seize this red chain, much less snap it. This was a bond. The previous "Karen" had been tortured to death within this bond, and Uncle Aisen had nearly gone mad within it. In truth, the simplest way to sever this bond was to kill the blood relative nearby who formed it. Mr. Aisen had already passed out. One could say killing him would be effortless. But the problem was that the statue—the hunger addiction—had not yet gained full command over Karen's body. Even if it had completed nearly a hundred percent, so long as it had not completely devoured Karen, it could not be considered successful. The red chain began to rise, dangling an unconscious young man beneath it. In the young man's embrace lay a single black feather. Gradually, the red chain rose through the breach. Down below, the colossal statue let out a roar of profound unwillingness and fury! *Roar!* ... *Gurgle... Gurgle... Gurgle...* From the thick, greasy blackness, a hand slowly emerged, as though tightly gripping something. Following it was a wrist... a forearm... an upper arm... a shoulder... Next came hair, a forehead, and eyes. Karen's eyes were filled with the yearning to live as he struggled forcefully to crawl out. In reality, he was undergoing horrific agony. He wasn't merely crawling out of a swamp; his body had long since been dissolved entirely. Right now, every additional part of his body emerging was a reweaving of flesh and blood. Yes, his hands, his head, and every part of his torso were regrowing. The pain of this growth was countless times more intense than any wound. Fortunately, Karen's pain threshold had always been high, and what was more, right now he was the victor! Yes, though the victory was far from graceful. He had lost his soul space, which now housed a near-frenzied statue. Rather than calling it a victory, it was more accurate to say he had escaped. But so what? He was still himself. He was still Karen. The hunger addiction could only continue roaring furiously in the depths of his soul; beyond that, it could do nothing. He remained the master of his own being! "Heh... Hehehe..." Karen laughed, which quickly provoked a fresh wave of severe pain. His organs had not yet fully reformed, and the act of laughing triggered a chain reaction. Finally, after an unknown stretch of time, the pain across Karen's body completely faded. He "crawled" entirely out of that pool of black. *Pant... Pant... Pant...* Lying faceup, Karen began drawing deep, ragged breaths. He wanted nothing more than to stop thinking and fall into a deep sleep right here, but he suddenly remembered that someone was still here, waiting for him. "Uncle..." Karen forced himself to crawl up. This body felt extraordinarily heavy, perhaps because he was not yet accustomed to it—like someone who had lived in water all his life suddenly stepping onto dry land. Staggering forward, he seemed to hear the sound of the pollution by his ears. Its concentration was far lower than before, but it still existed and would gradually reconverge. However, Karen could now seemingly hear the toxic strains "speaking." Yet he had no mind to ponder such things right now. He arrived before the stone door and saw Uncle Aisen lying there motionless, his face covered in frost. Karen dropped to his knees before him, reaching out to cup his cold face. "Uncle... Uncle... Uncle..." Karen knew that without this man staying here to wait for death alongside him, he never would have found that final thread of life. There was no reaction. The man kept his eyes closed, utterly unresponsive. Karen took a deep breath. His newly formed body had not yet developed the reflex to shed tears, so he could only part his lips, releasing continuous sounds of anger and indignation from his throat. Finally, Karen calmed down. Raising his hand, he said in a deep voice, "Order Awakening." Yes, even if you are dead, I will resurrect you. Now, I can grant you a true new life. A chain shimmering with golden light surfaced from Karen's palm, coiling toward Mr. Aisen. But to Karen's shock, the Awakening spell failed. The golden-shimmering chain retreated into Karen's body. Karen stared in disbelief. Why did the Awakening fail? Was there no spiritual power left within Uncle's remains? Had he died amidst the pollution, leaving his body completely tainted? Or had he drained his own bloodline power dry to save him? Karen raised his hand, intending to cast a detection spell to inspect the residual spiritual power within Mr. Aisen's remains. But unlike before when the chain emerged directly, this simplest of detection spells could not be cast at all! Spells couldn't be used? Karen tried once more, only to discover in shock that there was not the slightest trace of spiritual power in this body. Everything seemed to have returned to how it was when he first awakened in the bedroom at No. 13 Mink Street. Back then, he possessed the ability to "awaken" corpses, yet he wasn't even a servant. It was entirely understandable for such a condition to occur in a brand-new body. Karen felt no disappointment over this, because for him, walking the path he had trodden before was an easy task. It hadn't taken him long to cultivate to this point, and that was even while deliberately suppressing his pace to keep from advancing too quickly. He hadn't lost all his power to become an ordinary human; he had merely moved into a better, cleaner house and simply needed to carry the furniture back from the old house piece by piece. Yet right now, Karen had no heart to examine his new body, nor the mood to draw up some recovery plan. He pressed his hand against his forehead. "Richard, I'm sorry..." When a person was submerged in extreme grief, their mind became a tangled mess. The only thought in Karen's head right now was how he could ever face Richard in the future—he was the one who had caused him to lose his father. That cousin who always put him first no matter what, who had treated him as a true "brother" from the very first day they met. Right at that moment, Mr. Aisen, who had been lying there motionless, suddenly opened his eyes. Seeing the young man weeping before him, a smile curled at the corners of his mouth. The frost-covered face crinkled, causing him such pain that the first sound out of his mouth wasn't calling his nephew's name, but rather: "Ah... it hurts..." Karen froze, momentarily thinking he was hallucinating, until he raised his head to look at the man lying before him. Their eyes met. "Uncle, you're not dead?" Enduring the stinging pain of his cracked skin, Mr. Aisen nodded and replied, "I... I just fell asleep."