"The Seven Heavens have already begun to collapse. I suppose Tiancheng will soon fall as well?"
"Mm."
"The Seven Passes across the four quarters have begun to fall. Introducing Sovereign Virtue was a truly brilliant move. Once the believers decoupled from their faith, the situation became uncontainable."
"I know."
"Ekonzo is dead as well." Guangwen gazed at the flames rising in the distant city and sighed softly. "In the end, he didn't even get to eat a single bite. How pitiful."
"..."
And so, the Pope fell silent, speaking no further.
His aged face was covered in wrinkles and sunburn scars. At this moment, it was like stone, reflecting the steadily approaching firelight.
No panic, no anger, and even less wavering.
He merely watched.
Watched as the grand edifice crumbled inch by inch...
"Speaking of which, I've always been curious about something."
Guangwen leaned lazily against a pillar and suddenly asked, "Ekonzo was your adjutant, wasn't he? Back when you were in the military, you promoted him with your own hands, placed high hopes on him, and groomed him as your successor. In the end, though, you died by his hand... and your family was slaughtered in the coup, right?"
The Pope gave no answer, neither yes nor no.
"Whatever the hidden reasons, he clearly betrayed you. Why keep him around?" Guangwen chuckled. "And why lament him?"
"Lament? There is no lament."
The Pope shook his head slightly, as indifferent as ever. "As for betrayal... it's just betrayal, nothing out of the ordinary. Barrenness, plague, hunger, and suffering—there was simply too much of it. Any Punabantu living in such a hell, whatever they did was no surprise. He was just..."
The Pope paused, as if recalling the emaciated, humble figure of that young soldier from long ago, and murmured, "...too hungry."
Hunger. Hunger and thirst were normal; everyone was hungry.
Hungry for a lifetime, so whenever they saw anything, they wanted to eat it. Once they were full, they began to fear that past hell.
So they ate, constantly eating, unable to stop and not daring to stop.
There were far too many people like that.
Guangwen fell silent for a moment, sighing in mild surprise. "...Only at times like this does it feel like you were once a president."
"No difference, and it doesn't matter. President or Pope, aren't they both a joke?"
The Pope remained unmoved. "In comparison, a derogatory title like 'Beggar' feels a bit more real."
Begging for loans, begging for investment, begging for food, begging for aid... As a democratically elected president who was nothing more than a joke, one had to learn a humble, prayer-like smile, had to get used to eyes looking at him like a beggar.
Unyielding, letting spit dry on his own face.
Cradling the meager handouts tossed his way, scurrying back and forth, or acting as a tool and mad dog, tearing and biting across the Thousand Islands for petty profits... only to lick his wounds in disgrace, left with nothing.
Looking back, hell remained hell, unchanged.
Rumble!
The sanctuary collapsed; Tiancheng cracked apart.
Rolling flames spread, engulfing everything.
Hell appeared once again before his eyes.
"You really won't consider leaving?" Guangwen remarked. "Honestly, you're quite a decent guy. Being buried alongside something like this is too much of a waste."
"What you call 'something like this' is the closest thing to success I've achieved in my entire life. And the advice you speak of is something I have never once considered."
The Pope finally looked over, calm and cold. "If you want to leave, then leave, Guangwen. Why pity me? It's just another betrayal, isn't it?"
Guangwen shrugged slightly, indifferent to the mockery and contempt.
"Then, in accordance with our agreement, I helped you build the framework of the divine Pure Land, right up until this dream could no longer continue. Now, the agreement is concluded."
Time to wake from the dream.
Pity that some chose to wake from the dream, while others would rather die before it ended...
He looked back one last time at everything before him, witnessing the end, and his figure vanished silently from the hall, as if he had never existed.
He departed.
The Pope remained indifferent, not caring in the least.
Amidst the constant sound of collapse, he sat silently, pressing down on the scepter upon his knees, sitting in the seat that belonged to him, waiting for the enemy's arrival.
Minute by minute, second by second.
Until screams and wails rose outside the palace, the grinding of steel never ceasing. Amidst the slaughter, everything fell into silence.
Footsteps came from the darkness at the end of the flames.
Still unhurried, as if taking a leisurely stroll.
"Sorry, I got caught up admiring the scenery and arrived late."
Ji Jue crossed the final threshold, looking up at the cold enemy seated upon the dais, surrounded by Heavenly Radiance like a god of boundless majesty.
"How does it feel, Your Holiness?" he inquired curiously. "Does the sight of what you created burning in the flames make you lament?"
Lament? Wavering? Agony?
Or despair.
None of the above.
From beginning to end, the Pope was utterly calm—no, numb would be more accurate.
Witnessing the lifeblood of vast spans of time go up in smoke before his eyes, as if he had long grown accustomed to it.
So, there was no need for more words...
He raised his scepter, pointed it at his opponent's face, and without hesitation channeled all of the Heavenly Radiance to attack.
Pale light from across the sky converged here, endlessly condensing and collapsing. In an instant, it was as if tens of thousands of suns manifested out of nowhere, overlapping together into a torrent capable of utterly vaporizing everything.
The divine power of the entire world gathered in one place, commanded like his own limbs.
As if the Holy God had arrived in person, surging toward Ji Jue!
Yet it was just like a gentle breeze against his face.
All the divine power and destruction turned entirely into insignificant phantom light. It was not even enough to make Ji Jue take a single step back; it could only shatter fruitlessly against him and stream away to both sides, leaving faint trails after slicing through the night sky.
At this moment, for Ji Jue, no matter how immense the numbers were, they no longer had any effect.
With the cycling and growth of Sovereign Virtue and Great Sin, as their controller, the power he could mobilize had long surpassed Tiancheng.
Even now, this expansion and development showed no sign of stopping!
Simultaneously, his perception expanded continuously, and insights welled up incessantly.
Everything felt and comprehended by every person using the Sovereign Virtue system steadily converged toward Ji Jue.
In the outside world, everything belonged to Sovereign Virtue, but within this dream, everything belonged to Ji Jue.
In other words, every person using the Sovereign Virtue system was constantly supplying Ji Jue with their own understanding and insights—perceptions and realizations from an entirely fresh perspective.
It was practically like leveling an alt account for Ji Jue free of charge, exploring the possibilities within this system while adding brick and mortar to it.
Even though these insights were shallow and crude, the flashes of brilliance and comprehension within them could not be denied. While the exquisite subtleties were hard to match, the foundational understanding was consolidating and improving at a terrifying pace.
Earth piled into mountains, sand gathered into seas—in the end, turning into a river that almost set Ji Jue's soul ablaze!
Endless and unceasing.
The only pity was that too few people were compatible with the Path of Embers, and artisans rarely gained insights through combat. Furthermore, the old codger guarded against him like guarding against a thief, resolutely refusing to connect to the system. Ji Jue couldn't exactly turn back now, hunt him down, and forcibly shove him into Paradise; otherwise, he could have sheared another handful of wool from him.
However, now was not the time for lament or sentiment.
"It's time to end this, Your Holiness."
Ji Jue sighed in boredom, looking at this last stubborn stumbling block.
In just a few short seconds, the Heavenly Radiance had shifted into countless forms—fire, light, ice, and blades—relentlessly battering Ji Jue with full force, without pause.
Even though it was futile, those eyes held no retreat or hesitation.
Commendable fighting spirit.
Pity that only fighting spirit remained.
Perhaps the opponent before him was a very fine manager, an administrator, but definitely not someone adept at this kind of battle; he was even somewhat clumsy.
No, perhaps he also understood: the moment it was his turn to take the battlefield, the Order was already doomed to fall.
In all fairness, he was a rare talent.
Rational, clear-headed, decisive in judgment, with organizational ability that went without saying.
After the Holy God disappeared, he had maintained the entire world until now, forcefully suppressing all rebellion. Had it not been for Ji Jue, he might have maintained it until the end of this dream.
"A pity."
Ji Jue waved his hand, dispersing all the Heavenly Radiance. Immediately afterward, the Hand of the Sage reappeared. Pointing from afar, an absolute controlling force manifested, tearing through all of the Pope's defenses and blasting him back. He crashed into the intricate relief wall, splattering a patch of crimson, and slid down slowly to the floor.
He had no strength left to resist.
Yet he continued to struggle, dragging his broken arms, trying to climb back up.
"With your capabilities, where couldn't you have gone?" Ji Jue walked forward step by step. "Why dream alongside a lunatic?"
"A lunatic?"
Amidst the spreading blood, that crimson-stained face lifted. The forced coldness shattered, unable to hold back fury and resentment any longer: "Aren't you presumptuous bastards the real lunatics?!"
He hoarsely demanded, "What's so bad about a world inside a dream?!"
"What's so bad about faith?!"
The Pope roared and raged, "Spending forty years in peace of mind, dying happily together—what is so bad about that?!"
Forty years!
Forty years!
Forty years might be too short compared to those born without worries for food and clothing, but for every person struggling in hell, it was long enough.
Long enough for them to experience happiness and joy they had never had in a lifetime!
No plagues, no famine, no exploitation from the Federation's megacorps, no proxy dictates from the Empire, no strife and slaughter across the Thousand Islands.
In this secluded pure land, everyone could live in peace. Even if destruction came, it didn't matter—destruction was already foreordained.
Since ruin was inevitable, at least there was a peaceful and happy dream... Deformed children born with terminal illnesses could grow up healthy; those tortured to death's door could live in serenity; everyone could spend these wonderful years with dignity and peace, years they never would have had otherwise.
Everything was supposed to be as wonderful as heaven!
Clearly, the overwhelming majority had already found happiness and peace.
It was merely a tiny dream, yet you unrelated outsiders trampled it into the mud!
"...Indeed."
After a brief silence, Ji Jue nodded slowly, giving an affirmative answer.
Without mockery, solemn and serious.
Yet it left the Pope stunned, incapable of understanding.
"Though resorting to a phantom dream because of abundant suffering is overly humble and ridiculous, I can understand it."
Ji Jue thought for a moment and told him, "Compared to the agony of reality, sometimes having an endless good dream is indeed a good thing. No, it should be called fantastical and wondrous. Before this, I simply took you for Wen Sheng's lackey and a fool. My apologies. I never imagined you would have such resolve. I underestimated you."
"..."
The Pope stared blankly, his blood-stained, battered lips quivering, even more bewildered: "Then why... why did you..."
"When did I ever say I came to save the world?"
Ji Jue remained unmoved, his tone cold, colder than steel. "No matter what your heavenly brocade is woven of, what rainbow hues it has, how gorgeous it is... since your dream stands in my way, I will trample right over it. Otherwise, I cannot move forward."
At those words, the last glimmer of hope in those dim pupils shattered, leaving only the crimson of resentment.
"You truly are an authentic devil..."
"Maybe. I don't care."
Ji Jue scoffed and asked back, "Is your god any authentic god? Has he ever brought you a shred of salvation or hope?"
Even if hell is painted to look like heaven, hell is still hell. Nothing has changed. It doesn't change the essence that a parasite is perched atop everyone's head, constantly sucking their souls!
So-called forty years of happiness was the real joke.
The Pope before him wasn't blind or ignorant to this; he had simply indulged in wishful thinking to seek release.
For that, he sold out the souls of everyone.
"From beginning to end, you've just been dreaming, haven't you?"
Ji Jue lifted his foot and coldly crushed the scepter that had rolled to his feet, stripping away all divine power and reducing him completely to what he had been.
"That's why I despise dreamers."
No matter how wonderful it is in a dream, once you wake up, you have nothing.
No matter how much you dream, you cannot change reality; you are not even willing to change yourself.
"Time to wake from the dream, Your Holiness."
Ji Jue slowly reached out his hand, pressed it against that face, and handed down judgment: "Now, take a good look—are your deeds and the fruits you bore virtue, or sin?"
In that instant, the Artificial Sovereign Virtue completed its connection, forcibly dragging him into this system and coldly beginning its evaluation.
Screams erupted, tragic and piercing.
Right beneath Ji Jue's hand, the Pope's body convulsed violently—roaring, laughing maniacally, or wailing in terror. A massive torrent of activated spiritus erupted from his body, dyeing everything a kaleidoscopic, mottled black.
Yet his body rapidly turned into finely crafted iron and stone, like a puppet, every detail lifelike, yet at the slightest, gentlest collision, cracks and distortions appeared.
Abyssal Depths and Stagnant Rot arrived as invited.
Plummeting down a bottomless cliff amidst arrogant singing and cheers, falling endlessly in a paradise of false happiness.
By the time he came to his senses, everything was already riddled with holes.
The past was no more.
His former self had died outside paradise, while what now eked out an existence in this phantom dream was nothing more than an ugly reflection.
And now, it was all over.
Ji Jue released his hand.
Immediately after, boundless divine power broke through the void, opening the final gate and tearing through the fragile seal. There, at the pinnacle of the phantom dream, within the realm belonging exclusively to the god, a bloated soul eroded by countless self-natures manifested.
An eye as vast as the heavens looked down, frantic, despairing, brimming with venomous malice.
Incessantly calling his name.
Next should be a hearty, exhilarating battle, where Ji Jue would ultimately triumph over his opponent, wake from the dream, and live the life he desired as wished.
Like a dream, like a fantasy.
Yet it was still nothing more than a delusion.
He watched this false bubble with cold detachment and asked impatiently, "Playing the exact same trick over and over again—Wen Sheng, aren't you done yet?"
In that instant, all the bubbles disintegrated once more.
He found himself back in the palace of Tiancheng on the brink of collapse, before the dying Pope.
Only this time, an extra person stood in the hall.
Like an infant, like a middle-aged man, like an elder.
Overlapping illusions shifted incessantly, but when the three faces merged, the contours gradually clarified, revealing the appearance of a young man with a gentle smile.
As if gazing down from on high, despising all things.
He lowered his eyes, gazing at the follower at his feet.
"God... God..."
In the pool of blood, the mutated Pope struggled to reach out, pleading and praying: "Please give me another chance... just once... just once..."
"In accordance with our agreement, 'Beggar'—on the premise of establishing faith, I handed this world over to you and never hindered anything you did, whether success or failure."
Wen Sheng sighed softly and asked, "Yet it has all ended, hasn't it?"
At that, the Pope froze in place, losing his final strength.
Numbly, he closed his eyes.
No more sound.
Now, his gaze turned toward Ji Jue, the smile unchanged.
He looked nothing like the giant serpent Ji Jue had seen before, nor anything like what Ji Jue had imagined.
"Long time no see. No, unlike the out-of-control remnant spirit before and the reflection in Limbo, this should be our first meeting since my soul became complete, right?"
Wen Sheng grinned playfully. "Did you have fun playing in my world, Ji Jue?"
"Your world is a pile of dog shit. Including you."
Ji Jue replied indifferently.
Everything was so silent, as if all sound had vanished. Everything inconsequential was gone—slaughter, struggle, shouting, roaring, all halted.
At this moment, throughout the entire world, from Tiancheng to Limbo, whether angels, believers, heretics, or sinners, all stopped moving.
Like puppets whose switches had been shut off.
They stood where they were, raised their heads, and looked toward the sky, toward Tiancheng, toward this place.
Looking at Ji Jue.
Under the scrutiny and gaze of countless eyes, Wen Sheng manifested before Ji Jue.
Ji Jue's heart sank gradually to the depths.
A reality far worse than his anticipated possibility of "maybe this is all still my own dream" had unfolded.
From the very beginning, Wen Sheng had never disappeared, let alone departed.
He was here.
He had been here all along.
Right inside everyone's soul...
Chapter 538