*Rumble...*
The Wolf Knight statue sank onto one knee and slowly turned its head to look at Bai Zhou.
The face beneath the wolf-visored half-helm remained expressionless, but the eerie green gems serving as eyes glowed faintly.
In that fleeting instant, Bai Zhou felt as though the Wolf Knight were no longer a statue, but alive.
It seemed to be looking at Bai Zhou, yet also at the white sun and red moon behind him when he had descended from above.
"If only... the one to inherit that power back then..."
"Had been you..."
The words cut off abruptly.
They vanished along with the faint glimmer in the Wolf Knight's eyes.
The half-kneeling Wolf Knight returned to its original state, and the blade mark at its throat faded on its own.
Evidently, even if Bai Zhou had brought him down in a duel of equal rank... to the real Wolf Knight statue, such minor damage was utterly negligible.
At the same time, the familiar, cold mechanical voice sounded once more from the Wolf Knight's mouth, devoid of emotion, while his back remained turned to Bai Zhou:
"First trial of the assessment: passed."
"Next, will the pilgrim please prepare to begin the second trial."
*The second trial?*
"*Cough! Cough, cough, cough!*"
Bai Zhou coughed violently, spitting two mouthfuls of blood trapped in his chest into his hand.
This was internal trauma from the Wolf Knight's relentless blows earlier. As the stagnant blood was expelled, a wave of relief washed over him.
[Tears of the Moon Goddess] began to take effect, and Bai Zhou's body slowly recovered.
Meanwhile, the gold bean hidden in his palm was bathed in that mouthful of hot blood.
*Hum!*
The gold bean trembled, rapidly drinking in Bai Zhou's blood.
Before his eyes, the gold bean slowly transformed into a blood-red crystal diamond, then melted into a dark crimson liquid, blending seamlessly with Bai Zhou's own blood.
*It really works!*
Bai Zhou's spirits lifted.
How was he supposed to water the statue with the "warm heart-blood of Roman royalty"?
How could the gold bean be restored to a liquid state?
Bai Zhou had been pondering this question all along.
Then he recalled a story he had once heard in Wancheng.
It was about Old Wang, who by chance found a glistening golden seed in a graveyard. After planting it, it actually bore gold beans, making him wealthy overnight.
Yet a neighbor discovered to his horror that this gold bean drank human blood and could only grow when watered with the blood of the living.
However, by the time the neighbor uncovered the truth, Old Wang had already been drained into a dried husk in his sleep by the vines wrapping around him.
—This story was recorded in Wancheng's Safety Awareness Manual.
Its purpose was to remind everyone not to covet petty gains and mistake a forbidden item for a treasure.
If one found any antique or gold, it was vital to hand it over immediately to the Black Robes for appraisal and safekeeping. Not only did this eliminate the danger, but one would also receive a certificate of commendation from the Black Robes.
Bai Zhou remembered that Uncle Wang from Corner Street had once picked up a three-jin nugget of raw gold. After handing it in, he was even awarded half a jin of pork belly. When the braised pork came out of the pot, the neighbors were green with envy!
—It was precisely because he remembered that tale that Bai Zhou, upon coughing up blood, had hastily pulled out the gold bean to test his luck.
Thus, before the second trial began,
Bai Zhou slowly approached the statue and gingerly poured the increasingly scalding blood over the Wolf Knight statue's shattered pedestal.
*Is this what you needed?*
Bai Zhou asked silently in his heart.
If he could help this teacher who had just guided him fulfill his unyielding dying wish,
Bai Zhou would be glad as well.
Before a new trial began, the benefits of completing a dying wish were beyond doubt.
To say nothing of the gifts bestowed for fulfilling it, the mere clues and information alone...
Would be equivalent to the examiner handing over half a walkthrough!
Still, Bai Zhou felt apprehensive. After all, he could not be entirely certain whether this gold bean truly came from the heart-blood of Roman royalty...
Then, in the next instant—
*Buzz!*
The statue itself showed no change, offering no reaction whatsoever to Bai Zhou's actions.
Yet the three lines of dying words wrapped around the back of the statue lunged forward like mad creatures.
*It worked!*
Bai Zhou, who had been watching with rapt attention, finally let out a long breath.
The writhing words danced through the air, every character vying to tear and bite into the blood, devouring the pool clean in the blink of an eye.
*Crackle...*
A brilliant red radiance erupted, as if in deep satisfaction.
The sound of shattering echoed section by section from the dying words.
*Vengeance... kill... Roman royalty... water... broken frame...*
Fragmented words and wild, sweeping brushstrokes rushed toward Bai Zhou in a torrential wave.
A deluge of information fragments poured into Bai Zhou's mind, making revolving lantern-like picture scrolls blur across his vision.
"This is..."
Bai Zhou saw it.
He saw the Wolf Knight's past—
...Yet even though Bai Zhou was witnessing it from the Wolf Knight's perspective,
throughout the entire story, he hardly saw the Wolf Knight's own figure.
It was strange.
In these vital memories left by the Wolf Knight, almost every tale was about a single person.
Tinged by the lingering emotions the Wolf Knight had left behind, whenever that person's silhouette appeared, Bai Zhou's heart grew extraordinarily conflicted.
It made no sense.
Yet one thing was certain.
That person... she was the true protagonist of this story.
At least in the life of the Wolf Knight, she was the "protagonist" who far outshone the knight himself.
This was...
The story of a "King."
...
It was a long story.
So long it had to begin with a prophecy.
[The fratricide suckled by wolf's milk sowed the seeds of evil.]
[The wicked seed buried beneath the Seven Hills is about to sprout! About to sprout!]
[Locusts engulf the city-states, torches snuff out the roses, and pouring floods wash away the temples!]
[The golden crown is in truth a chain imprisoning freedom.]
[An ancient god from beyond the heavens devours the monarch upon the Iron Throne.]
[The evil god taking his place shall sweep across the world, becoming the eternal enemy of all civilizations!]
[Preparations must be made early, before the claws and fangs drown everything—]
[Escape beyond the world!]
The Great Sage, who worshipped the God of Wisdom and Truth, observed the stars at night and received this terrible prophecy.
As the price, the moment the prophecy was written down, blood poured from the Great Sage's seven facial orifices, and he passed away.
This prophecy bought with death awakened a slumbering civilization.
Similar prophecies seemed to have surfaced in other civilizations at the exact same time.
Each civilization took different actions in response.
Yet having witnessed the Great Sage's death with their own eyes, those high-ranking Extraordinaries keenly grasped the irresistible force of fate and the murky uncertainty of what lay ahead.
—Without hesitation, without a way back, an epic exodus of an entire race unfolded.
This epic was named the "Fire Seed Project."
The wise forebears poured every ounce of intellect and accumulation, struggling for a century, until they finally forged a mobile secret realm capable of self-sustaining internal resource cycles—
An ultimate ark capable of wandering between the seams of worlds!
Of course, nearly half the population, when faced with the catastrophe foretold in the prophecy, chose to fight to the death.
They remained behind in the homeland that had birthed and raised them.
And so, the immense secret realm ark took in nearly half of the civilization's people. Bearing the embers of a civilization on the brink and hope for the future, it set out.
People always said an old horse knows the way home.
Thus, carrying the simple yearning of fallen leaves returning to their roots, bearing the faith of an entire world wandering while waiting to go home—
The exterior of the secret realm ark was fashioned into a colossal wooden horse.
—A wooden horse named "Troy"!
From that day forth, the emblem of the wooden horse hung high upon banners of every color, appeared among children's toys, and became an omnipresent symbol of faith throughout the civilization.
—The wandering wooden horse was the external form of this secret realm world!
And Sky City was the center of the entire secret realm, as well as the driving core of the Trojan Horse.
In the beginning, everything was wonderful.
A century passed in the blink of an eye.
Here, all was tranquil and peaceful, filled everywhere with lush grass, grain, and blossoms.
The embers of a civilization recuperated within the secret realm, giving rise to a new civilization.
People gradually forgot their original reason for fleeing, unaware of the rise and fall of external civilizations or the shifting of nations.
The contentment and peaceful bliss they enjoyed was truly beyond what outsiders could imagine...
—This was the earliest origin of the civilization in the Deep Ruin Realm that Bai Zhou witnessed.
Yet the good days did not last.
Year 149 of the Wandering Calendar.
The heavens collapsed.
A blood-red rift tore open, and a virus was cast down upon the world!
"They... have come!"
Without a doubt, the evil god from the prophecy and His minions—
Rome had found them after all!
On that day, the people who had lived in peace for so long recalled the terror of being ruled by the prophecy.
A terrifying virus swept across the world. It was no ordinary pathogen; it corrupted the fundamental laws of the world from its very base.
The virus bore the exact same name as the world: "Troy."
The virus named "Troy" turned the wandering Trojan Horse into a dying, sickly nag.
More and more people turned into the walking dead without warning, devouring the lives of others.
This world needed a hero—
And so, the first "King" stepped forward.
He fused himself with Sky City, the core of the world, forcibly drawing the world's affliction into his own flesh. Using himself as both vessel and chain, he halted the virus's rampage and temporarily checked the world's collapse.
This grand feat led the people to acclaim him as the first King.
Yet it also forged a relentless, unbroken curse named "King."
From then on, every successor possessing the aptitude of a king was fated to walk this dead-end road of self-immolation, becoming a vessel for the virus!
Crowns changed hands, and sorrowful dirges never ceased.
As top-tier Extraordinaries who should have lived for a thousand years, the first King held the Iron Throne and passed away in just the fifth year after his coronation.
The second King reigned for a mere thirteen years before his body was crystallized by the virus, losing control and mutating into a howling monster.
The fifth King sought other methods, only to completely lose control during an experiment, melting into a puddle of pus along with an entire secret fortress.
The ninth King was the youngest, merely a child, who mutated completely after just three days on the throne and had to be executed through gritted teeth.
After taking the throne, every King's primary duty was to search the world for children who possessed the "aptitude of a king" and groom their next successor.
The candle of hope grew dimmer with every premature sacrifice.
...Everyone knew this world was merely lingering on its last breaths.
In such a suffocating, despairing environment, some sought salvation, while others indulged in fleeting pleasures.
Finally, the endless cycle of tragedy shattered with the nineteenth generation!
Having witnessed the hopeless cycle and seen with his own eyes the madness of previous kings consumed by the virus... the elegant chosen one, the prince who was about to take the Iron Throne, vanished on the eve of his coronation.
He despised this cycle of drinking poison to quench a thirst, believing that the time each king could contain the virus was growing shorter and that the world would inevitably be destroyed.
—Becoming King could not save Trojan civilization!
He went to pursue a new path, searching for the power of the lunar wolf from ancient legends—an untested road fraught with taboos.
The prince vanished forever.
Thus, the throne stood empty, and no one sat upon the Iron Throne to suppress the corruption.
The walking dead returned, the earth wept, and the people fell into unprecedented panic.
The world crumbled, the plague raged, yet no King appeared upon the throne.
No matter how they struggled, the world's collapse seemed inevitable.
Heroes came in waves, only to fail and be swallowed by the hordes of the dead.
This dying world once again needed a new King to save it.
—The final King. The last King.
The protagonist of the story.
It was here that she truly stepped onto the stage.
She was... a girl clad in red who loved wearing a little red hood.
On that freezing winter night, an orphaned brother and sister selling matches had depended on each other to survive. Then the elder brother was discovered by a passing "King" to possess the aptitude of a king, chosen by destiny.
She, too, was granted entry into the supreme Sun Temple to study, becoming a candidate for Holy Maiden.
Everywhere here, glowing relics flowed with brilliance. Even curtains scented with roses bore the blessings of divine grace, and the fragrance of milk and honey drifted on every breeze.
Yet the little girl cherished only that little red hood she had worn since childhood, for it was the sole gift her brother had given her to keep warm when they were poor.
The little red hood was soft and fiery, just like the lovely, cheerful girl in red, who was adored by all and filled with endless laughter.
In the temple, there was no one who did not love her.
Gradually, she became the Holy Maiden serving Wisdom and Truth, the sole candidate for the next High Priest.
And the brother who was forever her pride naturally became the prince destined to inherit the entire world.
After parting, they devoted themselves to their training and never met again, yet each lived well, each shining brilliantly.
"When I grow up, I'll give my brother a surprise when we meet again..."
Clinging to that thought, the girl in the red hood worked harder than ever.
Yet.
Before the day of their reunion arrived, the vibrant crimson clouds on the horizon shattered.
Royal authority fell, and the sky came crashing down!
That prince ordained by fate, the brother of the girl in the red hood, vanished into the moonlight on the eve of his coronation, chasing after ethereal, heretical power.
He claimed that the previous kings using themselves as vessels to absorb the filth was merely foolishness—drinking poison to quench a thirst... Perhaps he was not wrong.
Yet the reality was—
Without the Iron Throne to suppress it, the plague was devouring the world at a visible rate. Wailing cries reached the sky, spreading to the steps of the Sun Temple.
The people knelt outside the temple in a dense, dark mass, like drowning souls gazing at the very last straw of hope.
Under the worried gazes of her attendants, the silent Holy Maiden grew pensive. She stroked the soft rim of her little red hood, as if it still held the warmth of bygone sunlight.
In truth... over recent days, black gloom had blanketed the sky, and the artificial sun within the secret realm had long since lost its luster.
"He fled."
The Holy Maiden in red and her red hood looked out past the kneeling crowd, beholding the vast stretches of scarred earth across the world:
"Yet they have nowhere to run."
And so, the seventeen-year-old Holy Maiden, on the day before she was to hold her coming-of-age ceremony for her eighteenth birthday—
Lost a brother forever.
She placed the little red hood back upon her head.
Only this time, her movements were extraordinarily slow, as though the red hood bore the weight of a crowning diadem.
Turning her back on the thousands kneeling outside the temple, she left behind only a silhouette shimmering with radiance.
She walked toward the depths of the temple, stopping before a scepter entwined with thorns and blazing light.
She took hold of it and raised it high.
She said:
"I will."
Divine authority and royal authority were inextricably linked.
If the High Priest were to bear the throne...
Even without the aptitude of a king, under the current circumstances, the Iron Throne would not refuse!
The instant she took her seat upon the Iron Throne, the sudden agony and crushing weight nearly ground the seventeen-year-old girl's bones to powder.
The suffering of hundreds of millions of living souls poured straight into her marrow. Upon that burning throne, the cheerful, lively girl in the red clothes and red hood never showed her familiar laughter again, nor did she ever let slip the faintest sound of joy.
She had no brother, no smile, no emotions, and no pain... She had nothing at all.
She became the solitary crimson upon the Iron Throne, forcibly taking the burden upon herself, carrying the world's festering rot all alone!
—"The Scarlet King!"
"Follow me into battle!"
She fought, she purified, and the plagues roaming the world were reclaimed.
The red hood and red dress fluttered amidst scorched earth and reeking winds, becoming the banner and faith in the eyes of the survivors.
During one of her expeditions to reclaim the virus, she encountered a strange opponent.
It was the most perilous battle of all; the mysterious figure, cloaked in an ominous power, proved extraordinarily troublesome.
With everyone's combined strength, the mysterious figure was subdued, becoming a silent knight who followed the new King forever.
No one knew where he came from, not even the Queen. People only knew that he kept his face hidden behind a wolf-headed helm at all times.
At the end of the story,
with a resounding crash—
The Queen swept away the virus roaming the world, returned to the Iron Throne, and locked the palace doors tight.
The royal palace fell into perpetual silence, a dead hush, like a prison locking the Queen away.
There were no maidservants here, no chancellor, only a silent Queen holding down the throne for all eternity.
And a mute Wolf Knight who stood quietly beside her forever.
—He was like the King's shadow.
The world returned to beauty, and only the palace sealing the virus held "Little Red Hood" and the "Wolf" locked away.
It seemed as though it would be best if the story ended right there.
Yet—
More and more of the virus took root, grew, and spread within the Queen's body.
First, her legs lost all sensation, and the Queen took to a wheelchair.
Then, ominous marks and even ulcers crept across her skin in the mirror, until finally the flesh of her entire face was eroded away!
A girl who had just turned eighteen, at the age when one cared most about beauty, had become...
A crippled monster named "King."
"Even like this... it's all right."
"A beautiful world has been achieved."
Sighing softly before the mirror,
the maiden pulled her hood low, using that once-beloved shade of red to veil her deteriorating face.
Originally... aside from the Queen's own physical condition, the world had already recovered.
Yet on that day—
No one knew what happened.
The sky collapsed once more, and a new virus was cast down by Rome.
Later, the people of Troy called this day the "Day of the Sky's Collapse."
The Scarlet Queen, already wracked with agony from the virus's erosion... was powerless this time.
Despair engulfed the Queen, engulfed the knight, and naturally engulfed the entire world.
Tides of the walking dead drowned everything, plunging the world into lightless gloom.
During that time, perhaps faint rays of light had arisen.
The pure glow of a raised banner had also shone from afar, illuminating the withered face of the Queen suppressing the Iron Throne.
A purple-gold saber was swung, and the miraculous battle report of an isolated force deep behind enemy lines was conveyed to her ears through the command staff.
Yet in the end, all struggling light proved unable to withstand the surging, vast darkness.
The tide of the walking dead finally washed up to the seemingly ever-aloof, inviolable Sky City.
In the depths of the worldwide darkness, only a single streak of solitary crimson held on with bitter resolve.
"Brothers, hold the line!"
"Behind us is Troy! Behind us is the Queen!"
Pitch-black rain poured down in sheets. The tide of corpses hammered against the ramparts, and the last city teetered on the brink.
Amidst the shattered ruins of the palace, seeing the flames of civilization's final struggle, the crippled, disfigured maiden finally departed the Iron Throne she had suppressed for so long, letting the virus behind her scatter freely.
Wheeling her wheelchair out of the palace, the Queen took a deep breath, witnessing with her own eyes the tragedy of cannibals devouring the living across the land.
They... were fighting for her!
How could she sit by and watch?
"—The King shall bear it, the King shall protect!"
The nineteen-year-old Queen's power came from Wisdom and Truth, yet none of the human tragedies here could be saved by Wisdom and Truth alone.
She had to...
Become stronger!
Having realized this, the Queen swore an oath toward a certain statue in the temple from afar.
She cast down the Wisdom and Truth she had served since childhood onto the earth, along with all weakness and hesitation.
To protect this civilization and her people—
The King decisively switched her path of faith.
"Take it! My broken frame, my soul... take it all!"
"So long as I can exchange it for power enough to incinerate all of this!"
This time, the path she chose was...
War!
*Hum!*
The authority of War poured into her like molten lava.
Perhaps she was naturally meant to be a devotee of War; in the blink of an eye, she transformed into an exaggerated war machine.
The wheelchair beneath her turned into a metallic weapon of slaughter, intricately entangled with her flesh and blood.
The flesh across her entire body reshaped itself into a form best suited for war, and even the little red hood upon her head turned into a blood-red halo.
This was...
The proof of a servant of the gods!
She sacrificed everything she had, and her radiant soul seemed to grant her an extraordinary ascension into...
Half an "Angel of War"!
In Trojan civilization, the full title of the priest was the Chief High Priest.
Yet now, her true state should be called the "War High Priest"—
Both priest and sacrifice!
Of course, she was still the Queen, the final leader of Trojan civilization amidst the raging storm, the very first solitary crimson in that civilization's history to unite King and god in one!
"...It's her!"
Seeing this, Bai Zhou shuddered all over, his expression utterly complex.
How could he not find it familiar?
This crippled, disfigured, silent, and aloof Scarlet Queen, the "Angel of War" she had ultimately become, was none other than...
The singing "High Priest" Bai Zhou had seen overhead in the temple!
Chapter 103