Chapter 42: Goodbye

Chapter 42: Goodbye

Above the gray fog, Klein’s pupils instantly dilated. Subconsciously, he lowered his head and looked at the mottled long table before him.

There, four Cards of Blasphemy lay face down, their backs patterned slightly differently.

At that moment, he felt both lingering fear and relief, as though he had wandered blindfolded along the edge of the abyss several times, yet never fallen in.

If he had devoted himself to collecting the Cards of Blasphemy, gathered all twenty-two, or obtained the Mother card, then, with his habit of accommodating different cards to gain the corresponding status and qualities, he might already have been corroded by the Mother Goddess of Depravity, incubating no one knew what.

Still, I am not Roselle. Even if I had the Mother card, I probably would not accommodate it. Besides, in order to prevent gods from finding them, the Cards of Blasphemy are extremely difficult to collect. Gathering all of them is almost impossible… This seems like an arrangement casually left behind by the Mother Goddess of Depravity. If someone were unlucky enough to obtain the Mother card, they would become one of this world’s hidden dangers… Klein withdrew his gaze and continued looking through his paper-substitute at Roselle Gustav on the iron-black chair.

At this moment, Roselle’s body rose slightly. His voice was sometimes low and sometimes high:

“All things have divinity…

“The Primordial still lives. It lives inside every person!”

Klein’s brows faintly furrowed. For a moment, he could not tell whether the one currently speaking was Roselle or the red moon within him.

Regarding this secret, he had not only possessed a certain understanding long ago, but had also personally experienced it. Now, he was no longer so horrified and panicked. Instead, he recalled the teachings of the Aurora Order he had once read:

They preached that the Creator was omnipresent, existing within every living being. Therefore, all things had divinity, and when divinity became abundant enough, one could become an angel. The present orthodox gods were merely more powerful angels. For ordinary people, as long as they could grasp the essence of life as a journey of the spirit, consciously temper the spirit, strengthen the spirit, find their own divinity, and merge it with more divinity, they could escape the mortal body and become angels.

Back then, I only felt that even a cult like the Aurora Order had a complete set of mysticism and theological theories, as formal as the orthodox Churches. Now, though, I can interpret the truth hidden beneath those words… From a certain perspective, it really isn’t wrong. The only problem is whether, after merging with more divinity, one is still oneself… The True Creator actually placed one of this world’s deepest secrets into His own doctrine. Is He not afraid that some believer might suddenly achieve enlightenment, learn of the contamination underground, and become corroded into one of the vessels for the Primordial’s revival? This Hanged Man really is a little mad. His reason is not always online… Klein muttered inwardly and waited for Roselle to say more.

Two or three seconds passed. Roselle, who was always hovering between fading into slumber and gaining new life, sat back on the iron-black throne and exhaled, saying nothing.

Klein then controlled the paper figurine to speak.

“Among the words you just spoke, which should I believe, and which should I guard against?”

Roselle laughed.

“Consider it yourself.

“Heh. Isn’t that exactly the style you Seers use when speaking?”

Without waiting for Klein’s answer, he continued as though talking to himself,

“When creating the mask Pale Death, I noticed something: the Death of the Fourth Epoch may not have completely fallen, and the resurrection arrangements He left behind number more than one. Some of them may be connected to that River of Eternal Darkness. Heh heh. Death is definitely not so easy to kill…”

At this point, Roselle glanced at Klein below the platform.

“As expected, only transmigrators who choose the Seer, Apprentice, or Marauder pathways can enter Sefirah Castle. By the time I deduced this factor, it was already far, far too late.

“I do not know whether you wish to become an Old One, nor am I clear on whether doing so requires a ritual. I can only tell you that this will certainly be more dangerous than becoming a god—far, far more dangerous. Perhaps the existence who preserved us and released us into reality one by one is waiting for you there.

“The only advice I can give you is this: before you attempt it, speak with the genie inside the Wishing Magic Lamp.”

The genie? Use the conflict between Him and the Celestial Worthy to obtain some help? Klein nodded lightly.

“All right.”

After hearing his answer, Roselle sighed and smiled.

“If you truly can become an Old One, you may consider saving me. Only an Old One can resist an Old One, after all.”

At this point, he fell silent for a moment, and his speed of speech clearly slowed.

“If even you after becoming an Old One cannot make me completely break free from the Primordial Moon’s contamination, then remember to erase me. Destroy this mausoleum and support the rise of a new Black Emperor, so that I will never again have any possibility of resurrection…”

The light inside the mausoleum seemed to darken a little more. Klein remained silent for two seconds before saying,

“I will not forget.”

Roselle fell into silence. After several seconds, he laughed self-mockingly.

“Of course, before that, you should rescue me a few more times.”

This humor not only failed to make Klein smile, it instead made his mood grow even heavier, so heavy he could not speak.

Roselle did not continue the topic. Instead, as though reminiscing, he said,

“My wife passed away long ago. The mistresses I once had must all have had their own endings. As for them, I am very sorry. I never truly loved them. I was merely greedy for their looks and enjoyed that kind of pleasure…

“I have no illegitimate children. On matters like this, a Beyonder still has quite a lot of authority to speak. As for before I became a Beyonder, I think those ladies were certainly like me—merely coveting the looks and bodies of young people, enjoying that sort of pleasure, and not leaving themselves trouble…

“My eldest son Charles should have died many years ago. I wonder how many descendants he left behind. My second son, Bonova, should be an angel now if nothing unexpected happened. My feelings toward him are very complicated. On one hand, they are cold, disappointed, and hateful. On the other, I would occasionally care about him in secret. I remember that when he was little, in the first few years after he was born, he was truly adorable…

“My eldest daughter Bernadette—you have already met her. Is she not beautiful? She was pretty, obedient, smart, and filial to her old father since childhood. She loved her younger brother and cared for her mother. Sometimes, she was especially upright, to the point of seeming a little foolish. More than once, when I secretly cheated while playing chess or games with her to tease her, she never noticed. Such a temperament made it very difficult for her to accept some of the things I later did. Of course, now everything can be blamed on the Primordial Moon. It is all Her contamination’s fault. In that regard, I do have to thank Her.

“I do not know what position I should take when making a request of you. After all, I have never helped you, nor do we have any great friendship. We merely come from the same era, the same place, and possess a bit of fellow-countryman sentiment.”

Hearing this, Klein said in a low voice,

“Your diaries helped me greatly. When I was still weak, they allowed me to grasp a great deal of high-level knowledge, helping me avoid many dangers and work toward my goals in a targeted way.

“And those Cards of Blasphemy played roles of varying importance at different stages.”

“Can we not mention the diaries?” Roselle coughed lightly. “Still, in the later stages, I was indeed consciously leaving information for the next transmigrator. The only thing I could not be certain of was what language you would understand.”

After slowly exhaling, the Emperor continued,

“My request is that you help me look after Bernadette and provide assistance when she needs it.

“Although she is close to becoming a true major figure in the mysterious world, as her father, I can never stop worrying.”

Klein did not hesitate. He had the paper figurine answer directly.

“I will help look after her.”

“…Hiss. Why does that sound a little strange?” Roselle’s tone instantly became a bit odd. “Right, I still haven’t asked your name. As for mine, you should know it very well—Huang Tao.”

“Zhou Mingrui,” Klein answered frankly.

“Married? Any children? How old?” Roselle asked three questions in one breath.

Emperor, why are you acting like an auntie from the neighborhood? Klein shook his head and gave a very concise answer:

“No.”

Roselle fell silent again. After a while, he said,

“You and I are of the same generation. Bernadette should call you Uncle Zhou.

“Mm…”

As he spoke, for some inexplicable reason, a trace of pity entered Roselle’s voice.

“After arriving in this era, at first, I treated everything like a game. I had a great time and enjoyed it very much. But occasionally, I would still think of my homeland, of the past that shaped most of my personality and hobbies.

“The longer I lived, the more frequently that feeling appeared—just like fallen leaves must return to the roots of the tree. Still, at least I had a daughter, a wife, and two sons. In this world, I still had many things tying me down, and a certain degree of belonging. But you… I can sense your loneliness, the loneliness seeping out from your very bones.”

At this point, Roselle suddenly sounded a little wistful.

“If only we both still lived in the era we came from. I would go to work on time every day, work overtime every so often, and whenever I had spare time, I’d go watch my daughter attend her interest classes, pick her up and take her home, and bring my wife the things she had repeatedly reminded me to buy. On weekends, we would either go out, visit her parents, or visit mine, spending time with the old folks…

“And one day, when life had worn me down until I was exhausted, I’d use the excuse that you, my friend, were treating us. A few grown men would sit together by the roadside, eat skewers, drink alcohol, brag a little, curse our bosses, reminisce about the spirited days of youth, and urge you to quickly find a girlfriend… Then, when we woke from the hangover the next day, we would once again be full of enthusiasm for life…”

Klein listened quietly, not interrupting the Emperor’s rambling.

Roselle’s voice gradually grew lower. Then he smiled.

“Goodbye, my friend.

“I hope there truly will be a day when we meet again.”

His figure swiftly turned illusory, as though vanishing from the current world. Only a vague shadow remained, lingering upon the iron-black throne.

Roselle Gustav returned to eternal slumber.