Chapter 455: Act 205 – I Will Name You King
This is the spark.
Sleeping quietly in the darkness for countless years, a faint light appeared like a glimmer of dawn in the profound depths. A goddess reached out her hand, warm and soft, smiling as she guided her children forward. Everyone in such a scene was utterly shaken, unable to speak for a long time, and Brendel was no exception.
“Lady Martha…” Xi, Funiya, and Mephistopheles murmured in a daze.
She had never given up on her children, just like she had been silent for countless years. Yet this flame stubbornly burned beneath the corrosion, piercing through the darkness, until her children returned here once more. It was a lighthouse, radiating gentle yet immense power, resonating with the heart.
Brendel raised his head, a rare solemn look on his face. This was the transmission of civilization. After countless eras, they returned here, picking up the torches left by their ancestors, letting the flame of civilization once again penetrate the darkness. A sacred emotion flowed through his blood, and even with his eyes closed, he could feel the pulsation of this indestructible power—yearning for civilization, order, fire, and light that all sentient beings shared.
When Prometheus first ignited the spark of fire upon the dark and vast earth, civilization stepped out of ignorance for the first time, beginning an endless pursuit of the world of light. Such an emotion was passed down through the bloodlines, awakening suddenly at specific moments, as if a horn had sounded across the desolate earth, instantly bringing one back to that era of pioneering in barbarism.
This was the will of the ancestors.
Brendel inhaled deeply, unable to resist turning back to look at the others. Mephistopheles nodded at him, Xi anxiously clasped her hands before her chest and looked at him with some unease, while Funiya glanced between them and Brendel, bewildered.
“Then I will go and let the light spread across this land,” said Brendel.
“Go,” the Gray Saint said, looking solemnly at the ‘lighthouse.’
Thus, Brendel turned back, stepping onto the stairs, approaching the enormous crystal. The soft light continuously emanating from the crystal made everyone raise their heads as they watched him walk towards the light, which seemed to transform behind him like a robe and crown being draped upon him.
At this moment, Mephistopheles suddenly recalled a line from the Crusian poem he had encountered:
“Child, I shall grant you wings of light, thus, I can name you king—”
Though he internally deemed this nonsense, this scene made the Gray Saint’s heart beat wildly with a sense of urgency. It felt as if Brendel was drawing closer to Martha, and that supreme goddess was about to crown the young man who bowed his head.
But he was unaware that such feelings were even stronger in Brendel’s heart. As he approached the light, it grew stronger, seeming to want to envelop him. He extended his hand, placing it upon the crystal, and his heart fluttered uncontrollably as a voice surfaced within him:
“Lady Martha, after thousands of years, your child has returned here—”
But then what happened next startled Brendel so much that he nearly let go and fell straight off the pyramid. Without warning, a strange will responded from the crystal, gently wrapping around him, sighing:
“Indeed, it has been a long time, my child.”
“This, this…”
Brendel’s mind momentarily went blank, with only one voice echoing—this is Martha! This is the mother of all that is sacred, the embodiment of pure goodness in the world, Martha! The goddess praised by countless NPCs and players truly exists! But that’s impossible!
A thunderous roar resounded in his mind, overwhelming him with a deafening noise that completely stalled his thoughts. No player would think that Martha could still exist in this world after the gods had faded; although she left kindness behind, all that remained was a memory.
People reminisced about this goddess, hoping she still remained in this world to watch over her children because the world needed a spiritual pillar to live strong.
But Martha was no longer here; between heaven and earth existed only the connecting lines of laws—after the Holy Four Kings, this was a common understanding.
Yet unexpectedly, that supreme goddess truly remained upon this land, silently and eternally watching over her children.
No one expected it.
Brendel did not expect it either, and for some reason, when he heard Martha’s gentle voice, he felt something wet roll down his cheek. Strong emotions surged uncontrollably, as if at that moment, after separated from his mother’s warm embrace for hundreds of years, he was once again enveloped by that soft tenderness.
“Ah, I must have something in my eye,” Brendel said, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
Martha smiled slightly.
“Don’t cry, child. Although I am far away from you, I can still feel your pursuit and longing for the light. I have watched civilization emerge from swaddling, traversing the dark earth, cleaving through thorns, taking hesitant steps out of barbarism. One day, I believe, I believe you will overcome these trials and achieve ultimate victory.”
“You, who have inherited the blood of the ancients, are the most exceptional children of humanity; you must be strong.” she said softly.
“Victory?” Brendel was taken aback, somewhat puzzled.
Martha shook her head gently and asked, “So, my child, are you prepared to ignite this spark and follow the path of your predecessors? Do you understand that the torch of civilization is passed down from generation to generation? When the ancients fall, the later generations take up their will. Such history is inherently a grand and tragic epic filled with bravery from the mortal races—”
“This is a game for the brave, and everyone is a part of this magnificent epic. So, my child, you have come here; are you ready to accept all this?”
Brendel inhaled gently; this was the proper procedure. Although he had never ignited the primal spark, he knew that what remained in it should be part of Martha’s will. However, at this moment, he felt something different, and he was somewhat certain that the being before him was Martha herself.
Though she was not physically present.
“Of course, I am ready,” he replied.
“Very well, my child. Let me ask you a few questions, shall I?” The soft voice resounded in his heart.
“Eh?” Brendel was slightly taken aback; this wasn’t right! He understood the general process of igniting the spark. After making a promise to Martha, this benevolent goddess should directly initiate order. But why was there an additional step now? Was it because of the primal spark? He had never ignited one, so he couldn’t be sure. However, it seemed more appropriate to follow the goddess’s intent, so he nodded.
Moreover, this goddess’s motherly kindness made it hard to refuse.
Martha smiled.
“I ask you, child, do you have faith?”
“Faith?”
“To live for something—this thought itself can be considered a kind of faith. Honor, power, or simply the desire to move forward—because a goal is what allows civilization to progress.”
At that moment, Brendel thought of everyone he knew in Erluin, of Freya, Romaine, and the Princess Regent, of the residents of Buche, and the refugees he had brought from Ridenburg.
“Perhaps, yes…”
Martha placed a crown made of light upon his head, gently stroking his forehead within a soft white light: “Child, do you understand the significance of the crown?”
The significance of the crown? Brendel thought that it must symbolize supreme royalty, but this answer would certainly be wrong in Martha’s eyes since human royalty meant nothing to her, nor did she need power. Thus, he shook his head.
“The one who wears the crown is called a king. A person called a king walks forever at the forefront of everyone so that his people may see his back. Whenever they see that back, they become stronger, thus finding the courage to continue forward.”
“Do you understand? A king must shine and glow, becoming an existence that everyone looks up to. In the darkness, leading everyone through thorns, forever illuminating the infinite depths ahead, such a path can be called the king’s offering.”
“The king’s… offering?” Brendel felt a sudden heartbeat as he sensed the crown placed upon his head.
“What do you think offering is?”
“Offering?”
Brendel raised his head, obscured in the dim light; he couldn’t see the goddess clearly, but that woman always gazed at him with a smile, her eyes reflecting unwavering anticipation. This anticipation gave him the courage to follow his heart and answer word by word:
“I think, an offering is—something that brings satisfaction to the heart, that one has no regrets in fulfilling.”
“Do you have something to accomplish like this, my child?”
“I think… perhaps?” Brendel once again recalled his homeland of Erluin, thinking of the palace burning in that flame. Something he felt an uncontrollable urge to change may very well be the meaning of his coming here.
In seeing Martha at this moment, he suddenly understood.
The expectation in Martha’s eyes turned into approval.
She said: “Thus, some people are destined to be different from others, simply because they harbor such brightness within, unwaveringly believing and striving to change this world. Whether they succeed or fail, a pair of wings made of light always extends behind them, warming everyone who follows them.”
“Such people are called heroes throughout history.”
“Child, I am very satisfied with your answer, so I will give you a gift—so you may fulfill your promise—” the goddess suddenly said. As soon as she finished speaking, a voice echoed in Brendel’s heart:
“System Notification: [Fate Talent] Chosen One, Activated.”
“Fate… Fate Talent?” Brendel was once again dumbfounded. Fate talent? Didn’t he already receive the inheritance of the Dark Dragon? But a dual fate talent? What on earth was this? What was happening? Was there a bug in the system?
Brendel felt somewhat numbed by the blows but couldn’t help but silently grumble that even if you’re Lady Martha, you can’t just cheat like this! And why is it the Chosen One? Shouldn’t Martha’s Fate Talent be that of Martha’s Child?
The goddess seemed to sense his thoughts, smiling slightly: “Indeed, the Chosen One is not the best talent. But it holds my expectation for you, child, as described in the ancient prophecy—I shall grant you wings made of light, thus, I can name you king.”
“I hope you can walk down the path of your words. One day, my child, I shall be glorified because of you.”
“Glorified because of me?” Brendel was puzzled.
But the goddess no longer answered. She raised her head, her gaze seemingly piercing through endless voids, where every dark aspect was laid bare before her sight. Then a gentle smile appeared on her face:
“Come, let us witness this moment together, child; light shall return to the earth.”
She lifted her hand.
From the darkness surged an endless expanse of white light.
At that moment—
In the entire Loop of Trade Winds, everyone and every monster suddenly halted in an instant. A stir of unease arose in every heart, as if a certain opportunity had surfaced. The laws between heaven and earth became completely tranquil, and the immense power of the magical tide was suppressed in an instant.
“This is impossible!” Everyone thought, but nothing is impossible. When they instinctively turned back, they beheld the darkness of heaven and earth being pierced by streaks of white light, sharp as blades, shooting through the towering cloud walls of the Loop of Trade Winds, cutting through the sky as if breaking through a shell.
Light broke free—
The spark had been ignited.
…(To be continued. If you enjoy this work, welcome to Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendations, monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
