Chapter 110 – The Drowning Man

“I believe she harbors no hostility toward the continent, but she is indeed collecting souls. The Goddess is beneath the vortex, and every fragment that comes through the vortex passes through her eyes. I don’t know her purpose.” Adrishig looked at Duan Yu: “You’ve also experienced the vortex—what is she doing?”

The Lich told him: “Selecting.”

Lin Wei gazed distantly at the Soul Vortex.

The memories of the Goddess he knew were missing the most crucial part.

The war with the Goddess of Light, and… the death of Elvis.

He recalled the Goddess’s indifferent gaze in the dark hall.

“I know what she wants to do,” he suddenly said.

“Hmm?” Adrishig turned to him.

As if having made some kind of decision, Lin Wei took a deep breath and walked toward the hall without looking back.

Just as Adrishig was about to stop him, he saw Duan Yu pass by him, following Lin Wei toward the hall.

Left alone, the Bard glanced at the eerie withered trees and vines around him and had no choice but to follow.

Compared to the dilapidated hall in the swamp, this one was far more majestic.

Lin Wei pushed open the door, ascended the stairs, and reached the top floor.

He had seen Katanaphia’s appearance many times in his memories, but this was the first time he was seeing her in the flesh.

Fragments of souls swayed and surged under the moonlight, forming a river of light that flowed past her.

She gently reached out her hand, touching the fragments.

Her black hair, tied up, revealed the pointed ears of an elf, and her black gown stood at the center of the vortex.

Lin Wei stepped forward, standing beside her.

She did not turn her head, as if recognizing the part of her own soul within Lin Wei’s.

“It’s you.”

Her voice had a unique texture, like the river of light flowing before her.

Beside her floated a soul orb, its light nearly complete.

Lin Wei asked: “This is his soul—what about his memories?”

“Forgotten.”

“Can they be awakened?”

The Goddess’s fingertip left one fragment and moved to the next: “Yes.”

Lin Wei’s heart pounded: “How?”

“A contract,” the Goddess plucked a fragment from the river of light, and it followed her fingertip to her, merging into the orb: “The highest level of contract. Use your soul to guide his soul, and your memories to awaken his.”

“If he comes back to life,” Lin Wei asked her, “will you return to the continent?”

“No,” she said indifferently: “This is our realm now.”

“But,” Lin Wei recalled the mindless undead creatures he had seen along the way, pieced together from soul fragments: “They have no memories, nor can they create them. They can’t be considered alive.”

“Memories are unnecessary.”

Footsteps sounded behind them. Lin Wei turned to see Duan Yu. Their eyes met briefly before Lin Wei looked away.

They stayed in the Goddess’s hall like this.

The Goddess offered no reaction, making Lin Wei feel that, in her eyes, everything was unrelated to her.

“You’re saying she wants to resurrect Elvis?”

“She’s searching for the fragments of Elvis’s soul among the vortex, merging them together. Once the soul is complete, she’ll awaken his memories, give him a body… and the resurrection will be complete.”

“But not all souls from the continent enter the vortex.”

“Souls bound by a contract remain connected no matter how many times they disperse and reform. Elvis’s soul scattered in the Sea of Stars, but as long as the vortex exists, it will eventually draw them all in.” Lin Wei answered Adrishig’s question.

Adrishig looked out the window, seemingly sighing.

“I can’t accept it,” he said: “During the Dark Age, I wandered the continent and once met her.”

The Bard gazed at the crescent moon in the sky: “I was half a believer of hers. She was the person I respected the most.”

“I can’t accept… that what drove her to leave the continent, transcend the rules, and create a world wasn’t disappointment, failure, or freedom, but mortal emotions.”

It was rare for Lin Wei to have such a calm conversation with Adrishig.

“In a sense, this world can be considered perfect,” he said: “For the souls living here, there is no cold, no hunger, not even death. They have no awareness, no joy, and thus no suffering. Her world transcends all the hardships of the mortal realm.”

“That’s all she wanted to do… Elvis believed that the undead were the purest, most carefree souls in the world, and she learned that.”

“And if she hadn’t held onto the desire to resurrect Elvis, she would have forgotten everything during this thousand-year span, becoming one of the mindless undead in this world.”

“So what you’re telling me is,” Adrishig thought for a moment: “She didn’t create this world for Elvis, but to create this world in memory of Elvis?”

“From the moment she became the master of this world, she became eternal. To preserve herself in this terrible eternity, unbroken by the passage of time… she can only keep revisiting her past memories.” Lin Wei looked out the window: “Or perhaps both reasons are true, and even the Goddess herself cannot distinguish between them.”

He turned to Adrishig: “How did you spend this thousand years?”

“I had unfinished business,” Adrishig’s gaze was calm: “I never felt the passage of time was unbearable because what remained undone was equally daunting… as long as the wishes of the people back then remained unfulfilled, I would always have a reason to live.”

Lin Wei: “You’re actually similar. The Goddess has already created the world she desired, and the only reason that keeps her actively living is to resurrect Elvis.”

He was her soul’s mentor, who led her out of the forest where the elves dwelled, showing her the vastness, the freedom, and teaching her to accept her gift of communicating with life and death.

—And so, in the vast sea of stars, she picked and recognized, bit by bit, the soul she knew. In the infinite time, there was no room for futile wishes. She was about to succeed.

Adrishig sighed: “Let me think about it some more…”

After Lin Wei left, Adrishig’s door was knocked open by another person.

The Bard looked at the expressionless Lich and raised an eyebrow with interest.

He walked up to Duan Yu, first inspecting him from head to toe, then taking his hand to examine the Lich’s skin, and even tugging at the silver strands of hair, marveling: “Perfect, eternal—what a marvelous creature. When I return…”

He suddenly paused, smiled, and then said: “The Astrology Tower should improve its records on undead creatures.”

The Lich, who never allowed close contact with others, stiffened under his touch, and his gaze at the Tower Master was cold enough to freeze.

“Don’t be angry,” Adrishig smiled meaningfully and let go: “Or else I won’t answer your question.”

His pale silver eyes curved slightly, and his lips curled: “Go on.”

—Outside the room, Lin Wei stepped out of his own room, leaning against the wall, watching the closed door.

Thus, when Duan Yu opened the door, he was met with Lin Wei’s gaze.

“Hey,” Lin Wei averted his eyes slightly, speaking softly: “Let’s talk.”

The Lich stepped closer.

“We’ve been enemies for many years, with many unpleasant memories,” Lin Wei looked at the ground: “But now things have changed drastically. Magic and the Empire aren’t at war, and in this world, we’re on the same side.”

“So?”

Lin Wei met his gaze, his eyes reflecting the Lich’s figure: “I’d like to start over with you.”

He waited anxiously for a response, and after a long while, heard a single word.

“Alright.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Duan Yu looked at him and asked: “What should I do?”

“Nothing special…” Lin Wei said: “Just like ordinary friends, getting to know each other and becoming familiar.”

He suddenly remembered something: “Wait, no—you’ve never had friends, have you?”

The atmosphere became awkward.

“Just, um… we can talk about things, like the weather, or magic, or some ideas.”

Thus, when Adrishig couldn’t resist stepping outside and pretending to pass by, he overheard such a conversation.

“The moon is big.”

“Mm.”

“The weather here is really cold.”

“I don’t feel it.”

Adrishig: “…”

What a friendly conversation.

Lin Wei also knew the atmosphere was stiff.

But the presence of the person beside him was too overwhelming, making it hard to relax and lighten the conversation… it simply wasn’t possible.

It was Duan Yu who broke the silence.

He said: “Tell me what happened in that timeline.”

Lin Wei: “Didn’t Adrishig tell you? I thought that’s what you were discussing in the room earlier.”

The Lich: “No.”

The prolonged standing and cold made Lin Wei uncomfortable. He said: “Let’s go back to the room to talk.”

Duan Yu nodded.

“I met you and Haitie on the Magic Wheel. The three of us were classmates… Daniel, that Alchemist who loved wearing green robes, was a good friend of ours—do you know him?”

“Yes.”

“The four of us went to the Imperial Capital together, and along the way, we met two knights. Then we went to your teacher’s shop on the Floating Sky Capital. You obtained Gungnir, and I got a Book of Contracts related to the Goddess. Later, the two of us accidentally ended up in the Death Swamp and saw the Goddess’s ruins.”

…

“The Gungnir Spear was actually the weapon of the Goddess of Light. The elves and dwarves forged a second Holy Spear and presented it to her, so its highest authority still belongs to the Goddess of Light. She used Gungnir to pierce your chest.”

“But by then, I could briefly transfer your soul to Longinus, so we revived the Holy Spear, and you died at that moment. I used the Holy Spear to kill the Goddess of Light, and half a year later, I found traces of the Goddess of Darkness and came here with the Tower Master.”

His voice was clear and soft, quietly recounting the events of that other timeline—the Seasonal Tide on Siren Island, the little mermaid with the golden tail, the Withered Wood Forest in the Death Swamp, the mornings and sunsets on the Floating Sky Capital, the snow and north wind of the Astrology Tower.

Lin Wei omitted their relationship, but he found that to tell this person about his experiences, he inevitably had to include himself.

Duan Yu wanted to know about his experiences in that timeline. Lin Wei initially wanted to say “you,” but as the memories surfaced, he could only use “we.”

—They had truly never been apart.

The moonlight streamed through the window, spilling silvery light on the floor, illuminating the Lich’s serene and beautifully sculpted profile. His eyes were like a moonlit pond, a snow-covered lake.

Lin Wei knew he couldn’t look. If he did, he would become the traveler who fell into the water by the pond or lake.

In that other timeline, he often looked at his Mage and felt, in certain moments, that the coldness and sharpness overlapped with a figure from his past life.

Now, in the company of his former enemy, he felt a trace of familiar gentleness in the quiet under the moonlight.

He still fell in.