Chapter 1443 Premonition

Huge golden oak trees grow wantonly in the courtyard, and the open canopy covers almost three-quarters of the courtyard like a canopy. Around the huge plants that rely on the power of nature, a faint radiance dispels the shadow world. Eternally entrenched in darkness, a vibrant nursery bathed in radiance, eternally luxuriant, undefeated in all seasons.

A gust of wind blew from afar, blowing the green leaves in the nursery. Amidst the soft rustling sound, Amon, who was taking care of the flowers and plants, raised his head and looked at the golden oak tree not far away—a figure was leaning quietly against the On the tree trunk, she closed her eyes as if she was taking a nap, but as the breeze blew, the light-sleeping lady slowly opened her eyes, and two shimmering magic lights appeared in the depths of her eyes.

"Are you back?" Amoen greeted casually, "You can watch the show yourself, I'm not done yet."

"I didn't leave at all—I just sent an avatar to go 'outside'." Mirmina maintained a posture of leaning against the oak tree, and looked up at Amoen lazily, "You toss It's been almost a whole day, haven't you finished yet?"

"I plan to re-plan the plan, and then find a way to open another piece of land outside the original courtyard boundary," Amon shook his head, and the two small flowers wrapped around the antlers swayed gently in the dim light, "Phil Na and Leierna said that they want to plant some blue bell flowers and silver leaf grass, which are unique plants of the Silver Empire, and may not be suitable for planting next to potatoes..."

"To be honest, I don't think it's suitable to grow anything around your vegetable patch—it's too strange to match," Mirmina muttered, and her eyes fell on the corner of Amorn, seeing that There were two swaying little flowers, and she couldn't help showing a smile on her face, "If only I could hear their voices too... I wonder what they usually talk to you about."

"It's just a daily chat—you want to hear it? Then it will take a few decades...maybe more than a dozen years," Amon said with a smile in his tone, "They are recovering their vitality little by little, and they will soon be able to recover from their souls. Break out of the deep sleep state, and then they will be "spirits" that can communicate with the outside world. At that time, I plan to find a way to create two new bodies for them...or ask Bertila to create two sets. The technology tested on Na's elf seems to be quite successful."

As he spoke, he paused, and turned to look at Mirmina curiously: "Are you done with your work? I remember that it took a long time to produce the Phantom Drama...or are you in charge of it?" Is the part over already?"

Mirmina waved her hand immediately: "It's not so fast, it's just that I'm done with today's work, I left the avatar over there, and I can help them with some less important work and answer some questions. Tomorrow I still have to 'get over', the next two scenes are famous scenes, I have to do it myself..."

"...Anyway, I don't understand what you are all busy with," Amoen muttered, "I just heard that you are going to help those mortals make a phantom drama about the fall of the goddess of magic,

I thought you just had to go 'ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" "

"I can't explain it to you," Mirmina narrowed her eyes, "you just have to wait and see the finished product. But then again... don't you really plan to try it too? The Theocracy Council Bian is planning to make it into a long-form series if the drama "Master of Ten Thousand Laws" succeeds, to interpret all the stories of the gods in the form of a phantom drama, and the next one will probably be you...Think about it?"

"I'm not interested—and I don't think I'm good at it," Amoen shook his head, "But I'm looking forward to what kind of stories mortals will tell me. The history of silver elves is far older than that of humans. , and my origin is in the earliest period of the history of the silver elves. Many early materials about nature worship have long since disappeared in the ancient years. Under such circumstances, how does the talented Film intend to accomplish this difficult task? ...curious."

"Don't even you know about this part?" Mirmina looked at Amoen in surprise, "Even if you don't go to battle in person, you can give them some reference materials."

"Do you know the history before your own birth?" Amon asked rhetorically, "In the stage when the trend of thought has not yet formed, gods do not have complete self-awareness at all, and that is precisely the most critical period for the birth of a god."

"Ah, it's true, I forgot," Mirmina said in a dazed tone, but quickly said indifferently, "But it doesn't matter, if you can't find the information, just make it up. The key to this project is not really to Let people figure out how we got here, but let people think they figured out how the gods came - and how the gods don't. They also set me up with eight 'arcane saints' who were originally inspired It is used to explain why mages who have never believed in gods suddenly think that there is a goddess of magic in the world. This is the first time I know that I still have such eight saints..."

Speaking of this, the goddess of magic couldn't help but sigh with emotion: "For me, the most difficult part of this whole project is to remember the names of my eight saints..."

Listening to Mirmina's narration of these things, Amoen suddenly seemed to think of something: "By the way, you have been active outside with your avatar for so many days. Has there been any change in the connection of thoughts?"

Hearing that the topic suddenly turned to business, Mirmina's originally lazy posture immediately became serious. She raised her finger, as if unconsciously sketching a few runes in the air, speaking slowly: "I'm Been cautiously watching for changes on this...Things do seem to be working out as Gawain Cecil expected. Working with mortals has not resulted in a re-establishment of any link between me and them, even today, playing' The cast of 'The Original Saints' was right in front of me saying prayers directed at me, and I didn't feel any connection being made."

While speaking, she set her eyes on Amoen, her tone was extremely solemn: "You should also know that prayers with clear direction have great power, even if the chant is not a believer, as long as he prays With the slightest "pious heart", there will be some corresponding ripples in the thoughts, and correspondingly, the gods will definitely perceive the ripples."

"You didn't perceive this connection at all, which means that the 'actor''s act of 'praying' has completely lost the meaning of faith," Amon said slowly, "As the actor of the 'saint', he clearly knows My prayers are just lines... No, not only that, more importantly, what you are doing has completely denied the sanctity and unknownness of the existence of the Goddess of Magic..."

"Perhaps, the Nuoi people really used this method to achieve 'coexistence' with the gods," Mirmina said leisurely, "and sooner or later we will realize it..."

"'Noi people'..." Amorn slowly came under the golden oak tree, and while sitting down beside Mirmina, he said softly, "Tell me, the one described by Gawain Cecil" Will the future' really come?"

"I don't know, but many of the things he described have been realized, or are gradually being realized—I would like to believe in this 'human being' who has created many miracles."

Amoen didn't speak, he seemed to be in deep thought, and after a long time of contemplation, he suddenly broke the silence: "The Nuoi people sent their gods into the universe, and they sent them out more than a hundred years ago. Can you imagine? A space journey... I recklessly approached the starry sky many years ago. Although I lost half my life just as I went up, the magnificent scene I saw was enough Covering all the dim light in the world, to be honest, if there is a chance, I really want to go up and take another look."

"The Nuoi people fired their gods at 3% of the speed of light. Considering their actual situation, I am afraid that this is no choice... The gods can not eat, breathe, or even never rest, and the lifespan It is enough to face any long journey, and in the case of limited technology, 'launching the gods' is undoubtedly the most reasonable and easiest solution," Mirmina said with emotion, "If there is a chance, I really want to Meet the 'God of Noi' who went on a journey into space and did something amazing for his people - trekking so far alone is not an easy journey .”

"But if the situation calls for it, we will all do something for the sake of all beings at any cost," Amon said softly. "It's in our nature."

"At any cost..." Mirmina seemed to think of something, "Do you know about the God of Holy Light?"

"Of course, after all, you and I are both 'Senior Advisors' of the Theocratic Council, and information in this regard will always be pushed to us first," Amon sighed, "Although I have long guessed that the Deep Blue Well was detonated back then. Could it be him, but I didn't expect this matter to be confirmed now, and I didn't expect the God of Holy Light to be in such a state now-human nature is dead, and only the divinity that is gradually dissipating is left to operate on its own .”

"The birth of Holy Light is rooted in 'shelter' and 'devotion', which is also the most prominent 'inclination' of the God of Holy Light, so when an almost unstoppable disaster is about to come, it must be the God of Holy Light God will react first, and take actions regardless of the cost," Mirmina said in a thoughtful tone, "I have been thinking these days, the big explosion of the Deep Blue Well saved more than half of the life in Loren Continent, But it also killed countless Gondorians—the price of the sacrifice was so high, perhaps for the God of Holy Light, the impact of this sacrifice on Him even surpassed the backlash from the Deep Blue Well..."

"...It wasn't just the Deep Blue Well that destroyed the half of His 'humanity', it might also be His 'humanity' itself..." Amoen muttered, "No matter what the truth is, no one will know about it. "

"Yes, no one will know. Even the fall of the God of Holy Light itself will not be gradually lifted until many years later-this is to prevent the world's gratitude and respect for the God of Holy Light from re-forming thoughts, leading to Create a new God of Holy Light," Mirmina shook her head, "After all, the truth of this matter is too special, it is related to the big explosion seven hundred years ago, and the public's emotions are not affected by any small matter. It's the right decision to magnify it out of control."

"No one knows the merits and demerits..." Amoen lowered his head slightly, "But maybe, at least we should commemorate that guy—even if he is as tough as a god of war."

Mir Mina cast her gaze: "Remembrance? How do you plan to commemorate?"

"Prepare a bouquet of flowers for him under the golden oak tree, just like mourning among mortals," Amoen said softly, and at the same time got up and walked towards the flowerbed on the edge of the courtyard, "I remember there is a... Um?"

Amorn stopped and made a confused sound.

He stared at an open space adjacent to the "boundary" at the edge of the courtyard. Outside the coverage of the golden oak's vitality, several clusters of flowers of unknown species were quietly blooming in the dark.

Mirmina's voice came from behind: "What did you find?"

"A 'weed' outside my memory appeared again," Amon said in a deep voice, "I'm sure I didn't plant it."

...

The canopy of the Sorin giant tree, the monitoring center of the Xinghai Project.

Bud Wendell, who was on duty, sat in his seat, listening carefully to the "sound" captured by Thorin's main antenna.

It's just that so far, all he has recorded today is the normal background noise of the antenna itself and atmospheric interference.

The "Noi" people no longer send call signals 24 hours a day like they did before. After the last communication, they replaced that uninterrupted broadcast with one every 30 hours. A brief burst of information like a safe announcement is like some kind of brief routine greeting, and it is still some time before this routine greeting arrives.

That distant alien civilization seems to have seriously remembered the reminder of "turn off the free mic" sent by the Loren Alliance in the initial communication, and standardized their "etiquette" in interstellar communication. Now they are waiting Let Loren establish communication with them again, and maintain his politeness and patience in the process.

To be honest, Bud has a good impression of this alien group that he has never even met face to face.

At this moment, a low-frequency hum suddenly came from the monitor earphones, and an indicator light on the nearby device also flickered—the main antenna caught the already familiar signal.

Bud subconsciously looked up at the mechanical clock hanging on the opposite wall, and found that the signal appeared nearly an hour earlier than the "routine greeting" these days.

A trace of doubt flashed in his heart, but this did not affect his work at hand—no matter what news the Noi people suddenly sent, as a senior "listener" of the monitoring department, he must ensure that the information is completely and properly Record and report the important summary or major changes to the superior in time.

The recording device has begun to automatically store the original signals captured by the main antenna, and the automatic compilation system connected to the main brain has begun to convert those signals into pictures according to a mature process, and output them to the magic projection in front of Bard. , The printing device next to it also creaked and ran quickly, printing the processed images into paper documents for later transfer and retention between departments.

Bud was doing these tasks skillfully, while listening to the pleasant ringing from the monitor earphones, he glanced at the data spit out by the printer next to him, and unconsciously turned a pen in his hand, but gradually, his face Showing a somewhat astonished expression, the movements of his hands also stopped a little bit.

The signal captured by the main antenna is still continuing-this is not a short routine greeting, the Nuoyi people suddenly sent a lot of messages!