Chapter 185: Three Choices

Chapter 185: Three Choices

The strange changes within the mausoleum left Klein, who had his eyes tightly shut and his spirituality restrained, unable for a moment to know what exactly had happened, or whether the development was good or bad. Therefore, even though he had already recited the activation word and was gripping the Fate Stealer charm, he did not dare use it rashly, fearing it might cause a negative influence and produce the opposite result.

One second, two seconds, three seconds. Klein only felt that time was flowing with unbearable slowness, as if an entire century had passed.

At last, he heard Mr. Azik’s slightly hoarse yet uncertain voice:

“It’s you…”

Immediately afterward, a voice with no fluctuations, yet clearly belonging to a woman, rang out:

“You have three choices.

“First, continue forward, seek completeness, and allow Salinger to be reborn within you.

“Second, let me help you extract that half of your soul, then take it away with you and find a way to stitch it together yourself. This will allow you to return to your original state, no longer dying again and again and reviving again and again. But that does not equal the current you. The lives you have experienced in the past will truly degenerate into dreams.

“Third, abandon everything and leave directly. You will forever stop at your current level, unable to advance any further. You will still become one of the dead again and again, and again and again awaken having lost all your memories, repeating the process of searching for your past.”

Klein listened in a daze. He had never expected that another “person” had appeared deep within the mausoleum, and that this person seemed to hold absolute control, capable of offering different choices and making even the former Death Consul, Azik Eggers, only able to choose from among them.

“So this is the artificial Death hidden deep within the black fog?

“No. It did not seem to have much intelligence before. Even after so long, it showed no intention of communicating…

“Extract that half of his soul, then find a way to stitch it together… What does that mean? Was Mr. Azik’s spirit originally incomplete?

“Extract it from where? This ‘lady’ can actually do something even Mr. Azik cannot?

“And who is Salinger? Why would He be reborn within Mr. Azik? He—no, He is that Death who triggered the Pale Disaster, Mr. Azik’s father or grandfather? Did He foresee His own fall and leave the seed of resurrection inside Mr. Azik?

“The first choice is definitely rejected immediately and does not need to be considered. Both the second and third have their own problems. One means he will no longer be his current self and will become a strange ‘me.’ The other means forever bearing the curse of immortality, never able to obtain release… If he has confidence in himself, if he truly views each past life as an anchor, then perhaps he can consider the second choice and reconcile with himself, compromising with one another… But this involves the other half of his soul, the half that was split away, the half that has never experienced those lives. No one can guess what kind of change will happen afterward. Anchors may not be able to solve the problem…”

Thought after thought flashed rapidly through Klein’s mind. He was confused, curious, troubled, and bewildered, yet he could only stand far away, unable even to watch from the sidelines.

That was Azik’s life. That was the future Azik would have to face. No one else could make the decision for him.

And what Klein should have said, he had already said before. Helpless and worried, he stood where he was, waiting for Mr. Azik to speak.

Azik gazed at the beautiful hooded lady before him. For a very long time, he said nothing. The pale flames in his eyes swayed unsteadily.

The mountain-like Feathered Serpent, both illusory and real, seemed to sense some unfavorable change. Its tail abruptly whipped out, sweeping madly in every direction. Its head then lowered. It opened its huge mouth, revealing dark-red flesh and sharp teeth stained with pale-yellow grease. It spat out a pitch-black forked tongue and dark-green mucus, attempting to take the initiative and swallow Azik Eggers.

However, all its attempts failed to take effect. It was as though it lived in another world!

Amid the uneasy silence, Azik raised his right hand and rubbed his temple. With a calm smile, he said, “Perhaps I have already become used to my current life. I choose the third.”

The moment his voice fell, the hooded lady opposite him clenched her palm, tightly grasping the bird-shaped golden ornament. Then, little by little, she pulled her arm back, drawing that ancient object out from the crack on Azik’s forehead.

Azik’s expression twisted once more, as if he were enduring unimaginable pain.

From every drop of his blood, from every piece of his muscle, tiny amounts of spirit seeped out, interweaving into a transparent soul body.

This soul body seemed complete and without defect, yet it was filled with an inharmonious contradiction, because one half of it was golden—from its eyebrows and eyes to its torso and limbs—carrying an ancient, simple beauty.

As the bird-shaped golden ornament was extracted, Azik’s semi-transparent spirit began splitting from the center, inch by inch, as though someone were using a small knife to peel the skin from his body alive.

From his throat came another sound unlike that of a human. Hearing it from afar made Klein’s head dizzy and painfully sharp, as if steel needles were stirring violently inside his brain.

Only a few seconds later, Azik’s spirit body had completely split in two. One half turned into golden flowing light and entered the eyes of the bird-shaped ornament. The other returned to his body and fused with his flesh and blood.

The two clumps of pale fire in Azik’s eyes went out. The white feathers and pitch-black scales growing on the surface of his body receded, and the distortion of his expression eased, no longer appearing so hideous.

His face became slightly pale and transparent. His forehead twitched again and again. Clearly, he was still enduring pain originating from the depths of his mental body.

“Thank you for your help.” He bowed to the beautiful hooded lady, then turned around. With unsteady steps, he followed the stairs upward and arrived beside Klein.

“You may open your eyes now.” Azik smiled wearily.

Klein hurriedly opened his eyes and examined Mr. Azik. Only after discovering that he showed no signs of madness or loss of control did Klein fully relax. Curious, he cast his gaze toward the depths of the mausoleum.

There, black fog pervaded everything again, once more covering all that lay at the bottom.

“Who was that just now?” he could not help asking.

Azik smiled and reached out to grab his shoulder.

“Even if I told you, you would not hear it—unless She wishes you to know.”

As he spoke, Klein instinctively grabbed the shoulders of his two marionettes.

The surrounding blocks of color all deepened, distinctly overlapping one another. Two men and two marionettes soon passed through the spirit world corresponding to the Berserk Sea and returned to Klein’s hotel room in Gurain.

The moment Azik released his hand, he pinched his forehead and smiled gently.

“Next, I will need to enter a sleep whose duration I do not know in order to recover. If you have questions, you may ask the seven lights of the spirit world. You should already have grasped the corresponding ritual.”

“Mr. Azik, are you alright?” Klein asked with concern.

At the same time, he mocked himself inwardly:

How could losing half his soul forever possibly count as being alright?

Azik smiled.

“There is no major problem. It is simply that I will maintain the state I had before—foreseeing my own death, arranging everything in advance, severing the connection with my original life, then forgetting everything, reviving and awakening, and seeking the past.

“Compared to before, at least you, someone who knows many things about me, still exist. If I forget again, after seeing your letter, I should be able to remember many things.”

He paused, then gave an almost imperceptible nod. In a low voice, he smiled.

“Sleeping is not a bad thing either. At least I can dream. In dreams, I never left. I am still accompanying her beneath the sunlight. I am still guiding that stubborn child on how to use a broadsword. I am still building a swing for that little one who loved acting spoiled…”

Before he finished speaking, Azik tossed out the copper whistle and smiled gently.

“Remember to write.

“But before I wake, I will not reply.”

Klein had just reached out and caught the ancient and exquisite copper whistle when Azik vanished from the room, going who knew where.

After staring blankly for a while, Klein suddenly let out a low sigh.

…

To leave Gurain for another place by land, one had to follow the spiraling roads upward, pass through district after district, reach the city’s highest point, and only then could one cross over the mountains and enter the plains.

At this very moment, the Red Gloves squad led by Sost stood in the plaza at the highest point, looking out over the abnormal Berserk Sea.

Daly Simone, who had been pressing her forehead the entire time, suddenly lowered her hand and spoke with considerable surprise:

“Everything is normal again. There is no problem at all now.”

“Normal again?” Leonard asked in slight astonishment.

In his view, before the Berserk Sea’s anomaly ended, it would be difficult for Daly to return to normal.

“Perhaps it was intermittent?” Sost offered his guess hesitantly.

Daly was just about to respond when everyone’s spiritual intuition was touched. Once again, they looked toward the Berserk Sea.

Within that pure deep blackness, one dazzling star after another lit up.

…

Backlund, inside Saint Samuel Cathedral.

Archbishop Anthony Stevenson received an urgent telegram from the sea.

The telegram’s contents were quite simple, yet sufficiently astonishing:

“Gehrman Sparrow has reappeared. Together with another person, he boarded the Black Tulip and turned Ludwell into a marionette. The person he followed was addressed by Ludwell as Death Consul.”

Gehrman Sparrow… Death Consul…

Saint Anthony silently repeated these two names.

He slowly leaned back and closed his eyes. In his mind, information on sealed artifact 0-17 once again surfaced—the complete information:

“Number: 17.”

“Name: Angel of Concealment.”

“Danger Level: ‘0.’ Extremely dangerous. Highest priority. Highest level of confidentiality. Do not ask about it. Do not spread it. Do not describe it. Do not observe it.”

“Confidentiality Level: Pope, Group A researchers, and the archbishop responsible for the Backlund diocese. (Note: When the archbishop is transferred away from the Backlund diocese, sealed artifact 1-29 must be used to erase the relevant memories.)”

“Sealing Method: Complete the seal through the cooperation of 1-29 and 1-80.”

“Description: This is not an object.

…

“Warning: She cannot be used!”

“Appendix 1: This sealed artifact first appeared in the Pale Era of the Fourth Epoch. Specific year: missing. Specific date: missing. Specific location: missing.”

“Appendix 2: Records show that She has been awakened five times.”

“Appendix 3: The statement that She cannot be used has a limited premise. It has been confirmed that She may serve as a vessel for the Goddess’s descent.”