Chapter 237: Epilogue
The sunlight trickled in gently, gradually illuminating the earth.
The fire blazing in Woodward Forest was still not extinguished; the crimson flames spread throughout the forest, greedily consuming everything in sight. The corpses of dead animals emitted a thin wisp of smoke, and countless ancient trees were reduced to charred wood, crashing down with a cacophony of “crackle and pop.”
In the center of the forest, what was once an expansive grassland had vanished, replaced by bubbling magma that sprawled across the scorched earth, now gradually cooling and solidifying into a dull, black rock glowing faintly red.
Around this circular area, at the junction of wilderness and forest, six gigantic gold pillars stood tall, encircling a pool of lava. Atop these pillars, shadowy figures in black robes were barely distinguishable. Soon, a new figure appeared in the magma rock area, shrouded in a thin light barrier, dragging a floating golden orb, glancing around as if on the hunt for something.
“Did you find any traces?”
A young man with golden hair leaned against his staff, standing at the edge of the lava with a face dark enough to scare off a cheerful mime. Beside him was the anxious Saint, and as someone approached, the man recognized the equally gloomy expression and guessed the answer. He asked urgently, “No signs of life?”
As expected, the newcomer shook their head gently: “No, Your Holiness.”
“Then keep searching.”
Pope Angel’s face grew even colder, his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.
“Even if she was reduced to ashes in the explosion, you must bring her back! Even a blackened bone fragment or a charred piece of meat would do. Even if she is truly dead, her body holds immeasurable value. Ramiel, you understand this.”
“Yes.”
The man named Ramiel replied in a deep voice. He soon turned to leave, taking his people to continue searching the steaming reddish rocks, as the hunched old bishop approached, standing beside the Pope.
“The situation is handled.”
The elder’s statement seemed to hang in the air. Margaret’s expression paused abruptly as she glanced at Angel. The Pope clearly understood the elder’s implication, but remained silent, merely nodding slightly. His eyes sparkled as they looked straight ahead, reflecting his deep thoughts.
After a moment, he asked, “What about the bodies?”
“Burned.” The elder looked down solemnly.
Angel grunted, and the conversation fell silent again.
Time passed.
Eventually, the old bishop quietly departed, leaving the young Pope and the equally young Saint standing together. Margaret’s face grew increasingly troubled, tinged with a hint of sorrow, seemingly caught in a struggle and hesitation.
She gazed at the Pope’s profile, several times opening her mouth to speak, only to swallow the words back down. Until Angel finally broke the silence with a hint of impatience: “If you have something to say, just spit it out,” prompting Margaret to hesitantly voice a question that had likely lingered in her mind for ages.
“Is what we’re doing really the right choice…”
As soon as the words left her lips, Angel abruptly turned to look at her.
Margaret’s heart skipped a beat.
She shied away from meeting the young man’s gaze, for she could sense something suppressed within him, ready to explode at any moment.
“…Margaret.”
After a brief pause, the man called her name, his tone unexpectedly calm and gentle, a stark contrast to the dire situation and the emotional turmoil he should be feeling.
“If all we have is compassion and mercy, we can’t change anything.” He studied the beautiful face of the Saint, speaking slowly and seriously. “You might have forgotten what responsibility weighs upon us and the issues we face. My dear Margaret, we have no right to make choices; we can only present one effective result after another. That’s the only way.”
He paused.
“That’s the only way this peaceful and beautiful world can continue, the only way the Church’s power can remain stable, and the only way human society can keep thriving. And you’ll have the chance now, for the next ten, twenty, fifty years, to still harbor those feelings of benevolence and come up to me questioning, ‘Your Holiness, is what we’re doing wrong?’”
The man laughed.
That smile plunged Margaret into despair.
“So, what do you think we should do?”
…………
The sky was gray, the autumn winds uncomfortably warm, with flying embers nearly obscuring the daylight, lingering for days.
The Holy Church’s search operation in Woodward Forest continued well into late October. By the end, more and more bishops, clerics, and even many unwitting clergy had joined the effort. Their orders were to extinguish the fires while collecting as many dead deity remains as possible without leaving anything behind.
It wasn’t entirely fruitless.
Within a month, the Church mobilized a significant amount of manpower and resources, carrying out almost a carpet-like search of the cooled rock and its surrounding area, ultimately discovering a multitude of black bone fragments and a mass of charred flesh fused with stone.
However, when pieced together, the recovered remains amounted to less than a single rib of the deceased deity. Most parts seemed to have been consumed in the explosion, disintegrating along with that little girl into a cloud of ash, vanishing forever from this world.
We don’t know how the Church internally processed this matter nor how they made the subsequent series of decisions.
The world continued to operate as absurdly quiet as ever.
The wars, famines, and disasters occurring in Silgaya from this April until late October gradually entered public awareness. By November, various discussions and rumors began circulating from the Emerald City in Silgaya, quickly spreading to the surrounding Valen Empire and Ethanbel, sweeping through the streets and taverns of every city in the Western Continent.
Opinions regarding the war against the demons varied widely, producing a cacophony of voices.
Some believed that the southern regions of Silgaya might have become hell on earth, and the Church paid a heavy price, as those demons had not been completely eradicated. Others thought the so-called demons were just a bunch of local ruffians from the Eastern Continent, who had already been wiped out, and that the Gate of Truth and those heretics were merely a bunch of inconsequential figures that stood no chance against the mighty Church army and the righteous pursuit of the Pope Knight.
These two types of gossip were the most prevalent and credible. There were wilder rumors, but few took them seriously.
In November, the citizens of various nations discussed these matters. Meanwhile, the nobles and palace ministers mostly remained silent, rarely bringing it up in formal settings. Yet, throughout many quiet nights, these scent-trailing hyenas would gather in secret, probing each other’s stances and seeking more reliable information to exploit the situation for their benefit.
The muted unrest continued until the end of the year.
People soon received definitive news from the latest reports. Shortly thereafter, the entirety of the Western Continent was thrown into turmoil as various crimes committed by St. George’s Currency Exchange came to light—neglecting the suffering of starving citizens during the war while shirking responsibility and profiting excessively. That most devout servant of the deity, Cardinal St. George, was found to have prioritized the interests of the Currency Exchange over his bl**d-soaked Third Knights. His son, Nick Williams, had died on the battlefield, becoming a heroic casualty.
His decision led the Exchange to abandon the impoverished southern borders of Silgaya, placing millions of people from the Northern Region in the midst of war and disaster to protect more assets, including the Emerald City. This had dire repercussions, quickly causing an earthquake among the populace.
Self-proclaimed righteous and enraged crowds began to gather, smashing through the doors of the Currency Exchange in various cities, rushing in to beat people and loot everything. The speed of the riots was astonishing, and the daily d*ath toll skyrocketed. Strangely, the guards stationed in these cities, as well as the Knights’ orders, seemed to take a casual stance, turning a blind eye as it fermented.
Whenever knights tried to intervene, they would soon find themselves confronting another squad of knights, often leaving the matter unresolved, which only pleased the people. By March of the following year, the initial rioters had even established a formal grassroots organization, naming themselves the “Knowledge Association,” determined to fight the shadowy forces to the bitter end.
And soon, behind the scenes, the William family and associated interests were poised to unleash their fiercest counterattack on the current Pope…
Fast forward to the end of last year, just when that infamous report surfaced, the stir among the people of the Western Continent didn’t stem only from the Currency Exchange. In fact, it was a different, heart-wrenching news item that dominated the front page of that report, truly igniting the emotions of all.
In the year 1187 AD, in September…
A powerful demon, sealed by ancient deities since the age of divine might, the source of the heretics’ brutal powers, was inadvertently released by ruffians.
Terrible natural disasters befell the deep woods of Woodward Forest in Silgaya, a fearsome presence that struck terror into humanity, powerful enough to rival that of the gods. Its body was as massive as a mountain, with bl**d that burned like lava; upon its emergence, the thriving forest was instantaneously destroyed, the flames ravaging Silgaya’s expanse for a solid seven days.
Yet the heroes of the Church—our heroic humans—burned with a fire in their hearts far more intense by comparison.
Due to a shortage of supplies, the ravenous heretics breached the Mosley Coast defense line, heading south, with countless victims dying untimely deaths. The Church’s Third Knights valiantly defended Alectine City but could not halt the progress of the demons until Commander Williams fell in battle. In this crisis, our brave warriors exhibited unprecedented courage.
They sacrificed their glory and lives, ensuring that the demon, rivaling the gods, was vanquished entirely and that the heretics lost their diabolical power forever.
With a heavy heart, the author pens this brief segment—people of the deity, please forgive me for failing to describe the harrowing events thoroughly; I do not wish to remember that sorrowful fight to the d*ath. If I could, as a man, I would gladly take their place to battle the demons.
But I cannot.
I am but a feeble individual, an under-trained cleric; I lack the strength and qualifications to stand with them in risking it all for this world.
I cannot become a hero.
I can only sit here, penning this report to inform you all of the heroes’ names.
Sword Demon Annasiris.
And that dearly beloved little girl, the youngest Pope Knight in history, Miss Silvya.
You must remember their names.
Promise me you will remember them until your dying breath.
—
Volume 4 Epilogue
This volume has become somewhat difficult to write toward the end.
Originally, I anticipated concluding Volume 4 before the New Year. Back then, I had fewer responsibilities and a more relaxed schedule, allowing me to settle down and write properly.
Had I wrapped up Volume 4 during that period, the quality might have been higher than it is now. However, managing the length of this volume proved to be a greater challenge than expected; I never imagined it would extend this far. Some of the planned content had to be cut out, or else the story would have dragged on unnecessarily.
After the New Year, things got busier, and I found it more challenging to find time to write. In the final sections, what should have been completed in a single breath ended up divided into two or three chapters, with each chapter containing around 2,000 words—burning the midnight oil every night. The very next day, I’d tweak anything that needed changing before posting, but there were still occasional interruptions.
Most nights, I think how tired I am, staying up until 3 or 4 AM while still having to get up at a reasonable hour the following day. Lately, I’ve averaged about five hours of sleep each night, feeling like I’ve slipped back into an irregular sleep schedule. I know I need a day off; after returning home at night, I often think, “That’s it for today, no writing.” Yet, I can’t help but give in to the urge to write. I think about how many are waiting for updates, how if I don’t write today, I might not have time tomorrow, and how you must be feeling stuck at this point in the story—I can’t sleep unless I get the next chapter out.
So here I am, sitting at my computer, writing.
I see your messages urging me to take care of my health and to stop staying up late, and honestly, I’m quite touched, but I just don’t listen.
I can’t control this burning desire to write.
Ultimately, that’s the reason.
But at least Volume 4 is finally over. Today I can rest easy and enjoy some genuine downtime—I’m really going to kick back today. I’ll finish this note and then become a salted fish for a while, maybe watch a movie, go out for some fresh air, buy some things, meet a few friends for a chat, and later go through the outline for Volume 5 in my head to check for anything amiss and then hit the hay early.
That sounds heavenly!
Now, enough rambling; let’s discuss some aspects of this book.
As for the storyline, we’ve now reached the halfway point of “The Abyss.”
And Volume 4 is likely the most somber, most challenging to relax and enjoy. Especially as the story progresses, many plots may leave readers feeling uncomfortable or saddened, and such emotions may not even find a release by the end of this volume.
Because this volume is the turning point of the book.
In this volume, Pepé learns many more things, yet lacks the power to resolve them; she doesn’t even have a complete understanding of her thoughts. Almost everything hits her suddenly, knocking her little head silly, leaving no time to pause and reflect; she’s being forcibly pushed forward.
Sometimes people wonder why Pepé isn’t more mature, or why she still seems like a silly little girl, particularly naïve and easily manipulated. After all, in her past life, she was a businesswoman, so why is she so constrained? — Because many protagonists in novels are exceptionally capable, always one step ahead of the villains and thinking things through. It’s understandable that some find it hard to adjust to my story.
I’m not sure how others deal with such issues; I haven’t read other novels in a long time, especially not the popular ones. I didn’t pay much attention in the past, and now I don’t have the time. There are certainly talented authors who handle this quite well, weaving things together reasonably and smoothly. I don’t know how they do it, but for me, it’s not a mature versus immature issue.
Pepé isn’t foolish.
She’s more rational than most people.
Even without her past life’s knowledge, she has always been a clever and sensible girl—not to mention her mind is quite sharp. She just often doesn’t want to think too deeply because it’s tiring and she hasn’t been pushed to that point yet.
The Pepé now faces organizations with vast information networks and financial power. Even with a tenfold higher IQ and broader horizons, she can still be played for a fool, completely outmatched.
Her information channels are too limited.
Many things she simply cannot see or know, making it useless how clever or bold she might be; this is an issue of unequal access to information.
She has only been in this world for just over a year, and as a young girl, influenced by her innocence, she subconsciously avoids worrying about various issues. The notion of being all-seeing and all-knowing, like other protagonists in books, is nearly impossible.
At this point, that kind of swagger is off the table for me.
Therefore, Pepé facing setbacks isn’t about maturity.
She’s just one person. Even if she’s mature, she can’t possibly compete with the many who already know the ins and outs. Others have long been on the frontlines; they’ve amassed all the information and resources; this world is firmly in their hands. Trying to play her or trick her is a piece of cake. When faced with such a situation, even the greatest players would struggle.
However, such circumstances will be left behind in this volume.
We will bid farewell to the little girl who knew nothing.
She now understands a lot more.
Most importantly, she has grown strong enough to disregard most crude tactics.
She simply needs time and opportunity—plenty of time and opportunity—to expand her channels, build a network, and establish a genuine information ecosystem and power matrix that belongs to her.
That’s where Volume 5 begins.
We’ll say goodbye to most of the tedious setbacks.
Let’s take a moment to touch on the title at the end of the volume, called “Nirvana.” Many of you misinterpret that Pepé will undergo a transformation here—which isn’t entirely mistaken, but it’s not time for that yet. Unless I titled this chapter “Nirvana: Rebirth,” that would be a different story.
Let me give you a brief overview: “Nirvana” is a Buddhist term meaning “extinction,” “quiet extinction,” or “liberation.” Essentially, it denotes the ultimate spiritual state that transcends life and d*ath.
“Phoenix Nirvana” refers to rebirth.
In my concept, Pepé has reached “Nirvana,” but has yet to genuinely “reborn.”
She will soon.
The next volume will detail that process.
Our Pepé is finally going to start tackling her problems—I’m quite excited to see how you all feel about this.
I just worry if I can write it well enough to meet my own standards.
I’ve now realized that writing a novel, even with a bit of talent, even if my first book gets some attention, to create something truly excellent requires far more than just that.
Many great authors have only written remarkable pieces after several hundred-thousand-word books.
I hope I get that chance.
But for now, what I can do is to ensure I execute everything I can at this stage to the best of my ability.
Perhaps there will still be times I lack writing time; perhaps there will be occasional delays or chapters of only 2000 words.
But this book will definitely be completed.
Maybe the next book will also definitely be completed.
Perhaps the one after that will be…
When people engage in something they love, they always give it their all. As long as I still enjoy writing novels, giving up is not an option.
I have so many stories left to tell.
Plenty of opportunities for learning and growth await me in the near future, allowing me to make the characters in my stories more fleshed out and the narrative more polished.
That truly excites me.
So, I’ll take my leave for today and formally dive into Volume 5 of “The Abyss” tomorrow—“Girl and Meiser Town.”
This is the illustration I promised for the cute battle scene. I’ll share the original image in the group later. Thank you all for supporting Pepé~
P.S.: The old group is almost full, so here’s the number for a new group: 625829290.
I hope everyone enjoys hanging out in the group!
That’s all!
…
—
Volume 5: Girl and Meiser Town
