Chapter 699: Lonely Vigil
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.When Duncan heard the Tomb Guardian’s shocking yet somehow anticipated disclosure, he fell into a long silence, deep in thought.
“…When you speak of the ‘Creator,’ do you mean the so-called King of Darkness? Or should we call him the Nether Lord?”
“The being you’re referring to is known among us as ‘Navigator One’,” the Tomb Guardian answered, bowing his head slowly in respect. “Some call him the Cluster Controller. But yes, the titles King of Darkness and Nether Lord are also known to us from historical reports by the Doomsday Survey Team.”
After a thoughtful pause, the Tomb Guardian continued in a low voice, almost as if speaking to himself, “It has been ages since we last received any instructions from the Creator.”
Duncan kept silent, his mind swirling with confusion and speculation. After a deep reflection, he looked up at the grand figure on the throne and asked, “So, ‘Navigator One’ collected parts of the King of Dreams’ remains during what is known as the Third Long Night? Using his replication ability, he crafted the Cretan tribe in the image of the King of Dreams to serve as his aides… Does this mean the entire Cretan tribe, and even those on the Doomsday Survey Teams, were ‘created’ this way?”
“Indeed,” the Tomb Guardian confirmed calmly. “The world was in complete chaos then. The Creator allowed some mortals into the budding sanctuary, but they couldn’t survive, let alone help. Thus, he turned to entities as powerful as himself. The deceased Saslokha from a previous creation era was considered a perfect candidate.”
As Duncan absorbed the detailed narrative, his expression became increasingly complex and thoughtful. He realized, leading to a shocking revelation—might all beings known as Enders be, in some way, descendants of Saslokha?
This profound and bizarre realization stunned him momentarily. He then thought of another disturbing notion.
The so-called “Enders” showed intense excitement and fanaticism at the appearance of the Vanished, proclaiming it the “Promised Ark.” While the obvious reason was the Vanished’s miraculous return from subspace intact, might there be a deeper link? Could their fervent reaction stem from the fact that the current Vanished was built over what was once known as the “Ancient Spine” of Saslokha?
Was this extreme behavior of the Enders an instinctual response, a deep resonance felt by the ‘offspring’ when near an artifact of an ‘Ancient God’?
These overwhelming insights flooded his mind. It took some time for Duncan to reel his thoughts back from these vast revelations, refocusing on the headless body on the throne before him.
He recalled something the Tomb Guardian had mentioned when they first entered the tomb.
“When you said ‘his time was running out’… were you referring to the lifespan of this body here?”
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“He has been guarding this place for a long time, but the maintenance system has its limits,” the Tomb Guardian explained in a deep, resonant voice. “The ancient mechanisms set up by the Creator are all breaking down one by one. They’ve been working far beyond their expected lifespan. This throne, once the central control for a network of twelve hundred observation stations, sustained the ‘existence’ of the entire Cretan race. Now, it stands as the last functioning station. Its end is imminent.”
Duncan’s expression turned to a frown of concern. “…What happens when the throne stops working?”
The guardian paused, then replied gravely, “It means the complete collapse of the first foundational system established by the Creator. Then, the era known as the Fourth Long Night will begin.”
The Fourth Long Night!
A flicker of realization crossed Duncan’s eyes. After connecting countless vague and intricate clues, he had finally found a solid piece of information, marking the start of the “Fourth Long Night.”
Moreover, the guardian had mentioned that all ancient systems initiated by the Creator were failing. The decay of the throne was just one symptom of a much larger issue. Vision 001-Sun was likely another critical system on the verge of failure. This fit perfectly with the broader scenario as understood.
Duncan’s brows knitted together as he pondered the situation. Logically, the failure of one component in a series of interlinked, complex systems would likely trigger a domino effect. Essentially, when the throne ceases to function, the malfunction and subsequent collapse of the sun will be accelerated.
Each Long Night has historically started with a major collapse from the previous era, and the Third Long Night was no exception. With the throne’s end, the ‘Nameless King’s Tomb’—the last stronghold of the Cretan observation network—will stop, leading to a cascade of failures that will ultimately extinguish the sun, plunging the world into an era of unending darkness.
It was evident to Duncan that this Tomb Guardian possessed knowledge far beyond his own time, perhaps even transcending the current flow of history. Such insights could have come from the “Doomsday Survey Teams” sent long ago, those who had monitored the sanctuary across time…
Duncan’s thoughts then returned to the Tomb Guardian who had led him here. This entity and the tomb it protected had survived the turmoil of ten thousand years. Yet, as Vanna had revealed, the ‘Nameless King’s Tomb’ had never before engaged in such clear and direct interactions with the outside world. To the wider world, this tomb was known as the chaotic and dangerous ‘Vision 004’. But now, it seemed that the Tomb Guardian and everything within the tomb were remarkably ‘normal’…
Duncan’s train of thought suddenly stopped, and he turned, casting a contemplative look at the towering figure beside him.
…Is it truly normal?
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.
Could Duncan’s view of the tomb be unique, similar to the “indescribable” entities he had previously encountered, entities that only he could fully perceive and understand? He wondered if other “Listeners” who had entered this place saw the same scenes as he did.
He recalled the “Cognitive Shift Model” Lune had mentioned in a recent conversation. After thinking for a moment, he felt compelled to ask, “Do others who come here see the same things I do?”
The Tomb Guardian’s voice was deep and measured as he responded, “…I strive to shield their senses, to cleanse the perilous remnants from their memories before they leave. Mortals should not be burdened with excessive knowledge; it can be harmful to them.”
Duncan nodded slowly, understanding.
While the guardian’s response didn’t entirely align with his initial expectations, it did somewhat confirm his hypothesis.
The reality he perceived was clearly different from that of the average person, and this discrepancy was even more pronounced in matters related to “anomalies” and “visions.”
With a soft exhale, Duncan briefly set aside these complex thoughts. After a pause, he asked another question, “How much longer?”
The Tomb Guardian looked puzzled for a moment, “Hmm?”
Duncan lifted his gaze toward the dark throne, clarifying, “I mean, how much more time does this throne have before it stops working?”
“It’s hard to say; I’m just the guardian here. The scholars who deeply understood this complex system have long gone. The best answer I can give is… soon.”
“And what becomes of this body once the throne stops its functions?”
This time, the Tomb Guardian offered no verbal answer, simply shaking his head in silence.
Duncan decided not to press further. Together, they stood among the twilight-lit ruins, wrapped in a thoughtful silence. After some time, Duncan broke the quiet, “I’ve been hearing the sound of bells… Is it a sign that this place is nearing its end? Are you the one summoning me here?”
“Yes,” the guardian confirmed.
Puzzled and curious, Duncan asked, “Why? What do you expect me to do?”
To his surprise, the guardian shook his head, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
The guardian met Duncan’s gaze, his voice steady and solemn, “I am just the guardian. Those who had the knowledge, who understood everything, have long disappeared. But there is one thing I do remember… just one thing.”
He shifted slightly, his gaze drifting toward the sprawling ruins and the spectral figures that occasionally appeared at the square’s edge, moving swiftly through doorways and across different timelines. In a reflective tone, he shared, “When they first set out, a message came from the most distant and unlikely edges of time, reaching here almost instantly. It was from someone who called themselves a Doomsday Surveyor, someone who claimed to have traveled to the very edge of existence. This person delivered a single, ominous sentence—
“He said, ‘Twilight has fallen, and the Usurper has set this world on fire.'”
Duncan remained silent, his face calm, revealing none of the thoughts or considerations that might be swirling within. His deep, steady eyes kept their secrets well.
Yet, the Tomb Guardian seemed undisturbed by Duncan’s stoicism; he continued in his even tone, “I cannot guess the thoughts stirring in your mind after hearing all this, nor can I predict what actions you might take in the coming days. I am even less aware of how the information I’ve shared today might influence any future decisions or actions you might take.”
“My only role is to oversee this station and, according to ancient agreements, occasionally allow it to exchange limited data with the outside world… We were carefully designed and brought into existence, each of us bound to fulfill specific and vital roles. Leading you here, strictly speaking, isn’t within my assigned duties.”
“However, those who once assigned these tasks have long disappeared, and the Creator has been silent for a long time. I felt it was my duty to… take some form of action.”
Duncan let out a soft breath, his features relaxing into an expression of understanding, perhaps without even realizing it. He then focused on the guardian, nodding slowly and with genuine appreciation, “Thank you for sharing so much with me. Just knowing about these events is a significant gain.”
“That’s good,” the guardian replied, his voice carrying a note of quiet satisfaction.
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