Chapter 528 - 491: Advent of the False God
An old man ambled through a forest of steles, as if walking amidst the glorious light of the civilizations he had created, admiring his collection.
Countless steles stood here, packed as densely as trees in a forest.
Upon each stele, different maxims were inscribed using the "Civilization Prologue." Some could inspire living beings, while others could pass down strange Secret Techniques, all of which were exceptionally precious.
The calligraphy was vigorous and powerful.
If Shi Ming were here, he would have surely recognized the script. It was identical to the script on the Divine Revelation Stele in the Endless Ocean, proving they were written by the same hand. The difference, however, was that the steles here were made of common materials. Many already showed signs of decay, but since they could draw power from the script itself, lasting for thousands, even tens of thousands more years, would be no issue.
This was the Divine Country of a "New God."
It was named the Civilization Stele Forest.
The old man walked on, pausing intermittently, until he finally came to a stop before one of the steles. His vision pierced through the stone, projecting to a specific set of coordinates—to a tribe currently mired in disaster. The tribespeople had been struck by a sudden catastrophe and had suffered heavy casualties.
A failure.
The old man’s face remained expressionless, but a faint smile played on his lips.
He was quite fond of a certain saying.
Failure is the mother of success.
Success was certainly gratifying, but failure also provided valuable experience. Besides, this particular failure seemed quite unusual and could serve as a prime case study for in-depth analysis. He prepared to carefully probe the root cause of the failure, to see whether this batch of lesser creatures had an impure bloodline, or if an anomalous variable had caused the experimental results to deviate.
If their bloodline was impure, he would alter it.
If it was an anomalous variable, he would eliminate the anomaly.
As for the loss of the guinea pigs...
That was hardly worth mentioning.
He was one of the "New Gods" and possessed the ancient skill numbered 004, [空] (Void). He fancied himself an enlightener of civilizations, taking pleasure in cultivating "Firebearers" within nascent societies. He would grant them the titles of "Warlock" or "Priest" and have them guide each civilization along the path he desired.
He brought enlightenment to these civilizations;
a little tribute was only natural, for gratitude should be ingrained in the very bones of these creatures.
Furthermore, the ascent from a Pillar Stone to a "New God" (or pseudo-god) brought not only a breakthrough in power, but also control over authority and the ability to establish a Divine Country.
This old man typically remained within his Divine Country, the Civilization Stele Forest, engrossed in his research. Only special circumstances—or when the seeds he had planted finally bore fruit—could draw his attention away. This moment was one of the former.
He placed his hand upon the stele.
His body dissolved into a phantom, like a symbol of civilization itself, and seeped into the stone. He left his Divine Country and, in an instant, descended upon a living planet that was intricately connected to the Tomb Star Realm.
...
...
...
"Has the disaster struck?"
Huozhuang was a little dazed.
The violent tremors made it difficult for him to stand, even though he had just awakened an S-rank power during the divine revelation. He hadn’t had time to familiarize himself with it, let alone control it.
But thankfully, his big brother and Mr. Ming were here.
Many of his fellow tribespeople had also managed to quickly flee the epicenter of the disaster. The tribe’s Priest, however, had met with a terrible fate. Huozhuang had seen it clearly: while fighting against a wisp of deathly aura, she was overcome by it, her body turning to dry bones and crumbling to dust.
The king’s Priest, the god’s Firebearer—even she was powerless against this sudden catastrophe.
"Disaster is ever-present."
"The real question is how to prevent it from happening."
Two points of light appeared in Shi Ming’s hand.
One was Silver.
The other was Gold.
The first was "Man of the People," and the second, "King of Regicides."
As for "Burning Wood," it had mysteriously vanished. But given the surrounding devastation and the current disaster, there was no doubt as to where that keyword had gone.
It had become reality.
Perhaps the three keywords provided by the Supreme Treasure of Ten Thousand Flowers Jade would have developed on their own even without interference, becoming tributaries in the river of fate.
However, the two remaining keywords were, by interpretation, complete opposites. It was highly likely they were mutually exclusive and could not both manifest in a single person.
"Do you want to live a peaceful, ordinary life with your tribespeople, or do you want to become a true hero, pursuing what you desire through sacrifice and hardship?"
The young man wanted to think about it.
But he knew there was no time.
"I choose the latter."
Becoming a hero is a dream many people share.
They may know it will inevitably involve sacrifice and a heavy price, but they choose it all the same. Even if they end up as a pile of dust, unremembered by any epic, the epitaph on their gravestone is a romance unique to a hero.
The Gold keyword, like a beacon of destiny, passed through the Supreme Treasure of Ten Thousand Flowers Jade and dove into the bizarre, brilliant imagery of the Kaleidoscope. It shimmered brightly before fusing with the other fragments of Huozhuang’s fate.
The gift had been delivered.
No one knew what price would have to be paid along the way, but often, just having the room to choose is a stroke of luck in itself.
"Mr. Ming, the divine revelation and the selection of the king... was it all a lie?"
Huozhuang asked.
Shi Ming fell silent for a moment.
"Whether it’s a lie depends on your perspective. Does your king sustain you, or is it your companions, your people...?"
"I understand... Thank you, Mr. Ming."
Shi Ming nodded.
He clapped the young man’s shoulder and vanished.
He could have easily granted the young man an even greater fortuitous encounter—a wondrous object he no longer needed, for example, or even some of his surplus Holy Hall Origin. On this planet, a Holy Hall-level expert was, on the surface, an absolute overlord capable of sweeping away all opposition.