Even so, there was never any of that "special emotion" the Old Gods believed in.
To the ancestors, the Old Gods and even this world might just be a bunch of data. He knows all the truths and looks down upon them from a higher perspective.
He kept adding parts he found interesting, eventually completing a story that satisfied him. Check latest chapters at novel[f]ire.net
The epic of humans and the Old Gods.
When the "Destruction Day" arrives, no matter who becomes the victor, the long story will come to an end.
In fact, Sincaro was already quite close to the truth of the story, and even in the "story" of his kind, Kaisaros and Kane, he played the role of the ancestor.
"To ensure the story proceeds smoothly, the ancestor set up some ’firewalls’ in Kaisaros’s palace, just like you."
This is the meaning of the existence of the wind element.
It’s an antivirus software, and now Sincaro is like a program infected with a virus.
Sincaro did not respond, still contemplating the meaning of "firewall," a term unfamiliar to him. The voice in the darkness made him uneasy.
He had never dealt with the wind element before. In the impression of all Elemental Shapers, the wind element could only be described as unremarkable.
The next moment, he saw a blue-haired girl and met her softly glowing golden eyes.
She had been there from the beginning, just now seen more clearly.
Sincaro watched as the blue-haired girl slowly raised her right hand, pointing her pale index finger at the sun already swallowed by darkness, then...
Her movements seemed light and without any hint of lethality.
Sincaro saw a trace of sadness in the blue-haired girl’s eyes, as if she was mourning his situation, but soon, her other eye conveyed a completely different emotion, the brilliance became increasingly intense, filled with sweet fanaticism, her face simultaneously showing two expressions.
She raised one side of her mouth into a smile.
A seam appeared on the black sun, initially inconspicuous, but as her fingertip slid down, the sun was split in two, followed by the sky, extending all the way to the ground.
Something was happening.
A strong sense of crisis surged in Sincaro’s heart, this was magic he had never seen before, and even this memory vault had never recorded such an event.
Yet, he could feel the memory vault, which had existed for countless eras, was collapsing.
For the first time, he felt pain.
As if being cut open.
The eyes in the darkness roared, "If these souls are lost—"
The sharp roar stopped abruptly, human language vanished, replaced by chaotic murmurs. Sincaro kept muttering, but no one could understand the meaning of those murmurs.
Soon after, Sincaro was engulfed in confusion.
Countless eyes bore witness to the division of the plane; he ought to have said something.
If these souls are lost... what would happen?
Come to think of it, why was he in this place?
What was this place? It looked like a library. Why were those books falling to the ground, leaking black slime?
It seemed like blood gushing out of a wound, making him very uncomfortable.
It was time to leave.
But where should he go?
He didn’t know, had no clues, as long as he didn’t have to stay in this unsettling place.
He could only recall one thing.
That mattered; nothing else was more important.
Meanwhile, the anomaly in the underground city continued, the solar eclipse lasted nearly half an hour, and people witnessed the sky falling from dark red into darkness. For the Empire’s citizens, a solar eclipse meant disaster was coming, but in the eyes of the Old Gods’ followers, it was an omen.
Signifying that the gods were with them.
Thus, the fanatics rushed to the altar, taking out daggers and extending them to their own throats, needing to complete the sacrifice’s final step — to willingly offer their souls to their gods.
But in others’ eyes, this was nothing short of insanity.
The fanatics closed their eyes tightly, blood continuously seeping from the corners of their eyes, ears, and nostrils unspared. Their lives seemed like a candle in the wind, supported by some invisible force.
Until another anomaly interrupted them.
Those with blurred vision vaguely saw a golden figure rising into the sky, gentle singing resonating in their ears, bringing warmth.
Wherever the golden figure reached, something was slowly falling from the sky.
A soft touch landed on them.
It was bird feathers, hot but not burning them.
The pain and wounds brought by the solar eclipse were being soothed by the warm radiance.
A divine bird bathed in golden light.
Yet, the fanatics did not see it that way, casting hateful glances at the golden figure in the sky, believing this uninvited guest disrupted their supreme ritual, their lives meant to await this moment of arrival.
The followers of Bazatous reacted first.
They raised their weapons, aiming at the figure in the clouds, praying to the great Heavenly Father, hoping He would grant them courage and strength.
This time, the great Heavenly Father answered their prayers.