Chapter 205: “The Poem of the Guardian,” Completion (Two-in-One)
The so-called “heart image landscape” is a manifestation of the spirit, a world wholly constructed from the mind.
It has countless connections to the material world, overlapping yet existing independently.
In simpler terms—no matter how much commotion Rast stirs up in his heart image… the cultists in the material world remain completely unaware.
The cultists are utterly ignorant of how the lofty deity concept in their eyes is being closed off, beaten, twisted, and brutally ravaged within Rast’s heart image world.
The same goes for the audience waiting in the live broadcast room.
In their eyes, the divine descent ritual was completed, followed by a great commotion of shattered voids, earthquakes, and cataclysmic events…
And then… there was nothing more.
[What’s going on? Wasn’t the divine descent ritual already completed?]
[So where’s the divine descent? My big evil god avatar?]
[Don’t say anything, the evil god avatar of the divine descent was already devoured by Little Ferret Candy (sorrowful).]
[I’ve realized, this reality counterpart of Little Ferret Candy is not a mad cultist at all, but the true evil god.]
[Who else could directly swallow a descending evil god avatar besides another evil god?]
The barrage in the live broadcast room started to flood once again.
…
Meanwhile, on the altar of the cult’s main stronghold, Rast, who had originally kept his eyes shut, reopened them.
Within his gaze, the flicker of flame that had been leaping and burning slowly receded, eventually fading into the void.
Within the mind world, the human hunt for the divine soul had come to an end.
If a simple summary is to be given to what had occurred not long ago within Rast’s heart image world, it would be about—
“Be good, listen, let me take a look!”
“Don’t!”
(Remove glasses, break the seal)
“Let me take a look! (shouting)”
…
Compared to the last time in the Abyss, where Rast fought to the d*ath with the revived remnants of the old god within Akshia, this time, Rast’s hunt for the fragment of the Deep Blue Port Evil God within his heart image world was undoubtedly much easier and more relaxed.
The first reason was that in the Abyss, Rast faced the true form of the old god, with the remnants of the god having revived from a long extinction, leaving no way out; they could only gamble everything to fight for their lives against Rast.
However, this time, the hunted Deep Blue Port Evil God was merely a fragment that had differentiated from the true body and descended through the Heavenly Threshold… Although the loss of this fragment was painful for the Evil God, it did not entail a crisis concerning the true body, naturally lacking the awareness of being locked in a life-or-d*ath struggle.
From beginning to end, that fragment of divine thought had been frantically escaping, trying to break through the blockade of Rast’s heart image world and escape back to the Heavenly Threshold, hoping to lose as little as possible.
Unfortunately, all its attempts at escape ended in failure, as the thoughts, which had split into countless strands in every direction, were captured one by one by Rast’s massive hand.
Grabbed and instantly refined.
The second reason was that, at this moment, the heart image world projected by Rast’s mind had undergone a significant change compared to when he was in the Abyss.
The struggle in the Abyss and the battle on the Broken Coast had allowed his spirit to undergo further evolution.
Just as Xiao Ai, Mr. Silver, and Hiltina had perceived…
The current Rast was closer to humanity than the mechanical indifference he had once had while trapped in the remnants of the Deep Blue Port.
However, by choosing to embrace his humanity, he would acquire a stronger power of the mind at certain moments compared to when he was still mechanical.
Humanity has its weaknesses, but at many times, it can shine with a brilliance far beyond that of mere ferocity.
“So, is this part of the residual soul of the Deep Blue Port Evil God?”
“Seems quite interesting.”
A faint glimmer passed through Rast’s eyes.
One can only say that gods are indeed gods.
Even in the downfall of the Age of Gods, when they fled into the Heavenly Threshold, and these pseudo-gods were undoubtedly prisoners… the secrets they knew were far beyond Rast’s reach.
After all, there’s an old saying, isn’t there? Give an opponent a hundred thousand years, and even a pig can attain enlightenment and rise.
As ancient beings, having survived from the Age of Gods for unknown millennia, these evil gods could spill a few coins and provide humanity with extremely valuable information.
“Then, this journey back to the Deep Blue Port should come to an end…”
Rast couldn’t help but smile.
Initially, with Hiltina’s help, he had thwarted the Deep Blue Port Evil God’s descent by exploding the entire city’s Iron Cross into the sky, thereby preventing their divine descent.
This time, Rast’s accomplishment would undoubtedly be even more perfect.
Achieving it entirely on his own without relying on anyone else, and the changes he made to the original storyline were far more significant.
What had been merely stopping a divine descent evolved into directly strangling the descending evil god’s avatar in its cradle, thoroughly consuming it.
He had undoubtedly met the requirement of ranking first in the limited-time event “The Poem of the Guardian,” leading far ahead of the second place.
Thinking this, Rast walked out of the altar.
He ignored the confused and speechless looks of those cultists and henchmen, striding straight out the door and into the building’s exterior.
The long night had passed, and the sun had just risen, illuminating the gray sky.
Light streamed through the windows, driving away darkness and shadows from the desolate manor.
The moist sea breeze blew in from outside, caressing Rast’s face and mingling with the sunlight, filling it with a hint of warmth.
If one listened carefully, they could still hear the distant sound of the ocean waves from afar.
It was a beautiful, tranquil morning… a morning unique to the Deep Blue Port.
This was a morning Rast had experienced countless times before, already familiar with every detail.
But in the past, he had been trapped in the lost hell of time loops, caught in a despairing whirlpool, focused on how to clear the Deep Blue Port and free himself from that damned hell…
Every morning he experienced was accompanied by bl**d rain and foul winds—either just finished slaughtering in the cult’s manor with bl**d on his hands or facing off with the stationed marines in the port area.
Rast had never had a heart so at ease as at this moment, savoring this simple yet peaceful morning.
In fact, the air in this city was not as oppressive as to be suffocating.
It was a pleasant season, the late summer and early autumn, and the climate was nice, while Deep Blue Port was actually a beautiful seaside city, with blue seas and skies, and rich fish catches.
If Rast were here not as a traveler of the Night World or a passerby of historical echoes, but as an ordinary tourist, he might have spent a wonderful vacation on the beach.
He strolled through the streets of this port city in the morning, witnessing the passage of time, the sun rising, and the once deserted streets gradually becoming livelier…
The bustling crowds crossed in front of him.
Among these people, some Rast could name, even knowing their wives and children’s names or their biggest secrets, all built from the intersections he made during those countless loops.
Others merely felt familiar to Rast, though he had never delved deeply into them; after all, there were tens of thousands of people in Deep Blue Port, and even after spending three hundred years here, he wouldn’t be able to know every resident in depth, inevitably encountering many strangers who merely looked familiar.
Nonetheless, whether it was acquaintances he’d shared a drink with in a restaurant during some loops or merely familiar-looking strangers, Rast didn’t stop for any of them.
He just wandered aimlessly through the streets and alleys of this city, quietly appreciating the peace without the Iron Cross Plague, without pollutants, and without the crisis of divine descent… that indescribable tranquility.
After many years, a return to the same place, to this Deep Blue Port where he had once fought countless battles, brought Rast a mix of emotions.
He didn’t know how long it had been when he felt the surrounding silhouettes on the streets gradually dissolve.
The busy crowds, the scenery of Deep Blue Port… everything was gradually drifting away, transformed into electronic signals of 0s and 1s, becoming unattainable.
The illusory scenery quietly collapsed, leaving only lines of azure text within the virtual world constructed from 0s and 1s.
It was the game system announcement for “The Poem of the Guardian.”
[Congratulations, player ID “Little Ferret Candy”]
[You achieved a score of 100,000 in the limited-time challenge event “Echoes of Deep Blue Port,” currently ranking first on the leaderboard among all players.]
[This limited-time event will end in 2 hours and 14 minutes, and the leaderboard rankings will be finalized at that moment.]
[At that time, our game company’s official staff will contact you offline according to your reserved real-world address and iris identity information, and will provide you with the rewards for this challenge event.]
[Please pay attention to the contact information in the real world.]
…
Watching the clear and distinct azure system notification text before him, Rast felt a familiar sensation becoming more pronounced.
He waved his finger, bringing up the system menu for “The Poem of the Guardian,” and selected the logout option at the bottom.
It seemed that although it was also a “2023 globally popular fully immersive virtual reality game,” the company behind “The Poem of the Guardian” lacked some creativity, choosing not to pull the typical stunt of removing the “logout button” for players.
Well, that makes sense; after all, the producer of “The Poem of the Guardian” was Grey, the little guy he had raised, who had a relatively high moral standard, not resorting to making a d*ath game scenario.
Rast’s consciousness detached from the virtual world of 0s and 1s, returning to reality.
He sat up from the soft, clean bed, reaching up to remove the game helmet from his head.
What came into view was a strange ceiling.
Beside him, Mr. Silver was squatting by the computer desk, sipping on a soft drink through a straw while watching a live broadcast full of rapid-fire messages, grinning eagerly.
“Hahahaha, did you underestimate Little Ferret Candy? Now they’ve all been slapped in the face at light speed, right?”
“I just love watching these guys fall over at light speed, kekekekekeke…”
“Pathetic, you all are so pathetic, now you know who the boss is, eh? Are you still arguing with me about whether Rast likes cats or ferrets?”
Seeing the crazily scrolling messages in the live broadcast room, along with Mr. Silver’s delight in the frantic commentary, Rast didn’t need to think much to roughly understand what had happened.
One could only say that Mr. Silver lived up to his role, being a reliable comedic presence and a takedown artist in any world.
“Oh, Young Rast, you’re awake!”
Seemingly noticing that Rast had come to, Mr. Silver waved his little paw, somewhat nervously interrupting the live broadcast and closing the webpage.
“How was it, how did the exploration of ‘The Poem of the Guardian’ go?”
“It seems this isn’t just some ordinary virtual reality game, is it?”
He withdrew the joyful expression he had during online banter, and his demeanor became a bit more serious.
“Yeah.”
Rast nodded slightly.
If “The Poem of the Guardian” was merely an ordinary virtual game, then no matter how high the technology, the Deep Blue Port Evil God within would certainly just be a fictitious boss in the game.
However, from Rast’s own recent experience, he could see the distinction—this fragment of the evil god’s thought was not a boss simulated by a video game, but the real half of an evil god.
A game boss created by a program wouldn’t know the secrets that even Rast himself was unaware of.
Rather than saying “The Poem of the Guardian” is a super high-tech virtual reality game, it would be more accurate to say it is merely a medium, or a transitional platform.
Although players enter in the form of a “game helmet”… these game scenarios themselves are historically existent fragments, reflections of the past—while the so-called virtual video game is merely a veneer created for players’ acceptance.
Its principle of existence is identical to that of the Night World.
“Now it appears that ‘The Poem of the Guardian’ should be the prototype of the Night World, an unrefined version still lacking many improvements.”
Rast paused briefly.
He recalled the gray-haired little girl in Frozen Water Town, with gem-like green eyes, timid and youthful.
According to information, “The Poem of the Guardian” was created by her.
“So everything indeed connects back to you, and you’ve finally reached this step?”
“Little Grey…”
(End of Chapter)
