Chapter 254 Obscure Morning Star

527

"Damn, what did you do!"

"Nothing... I just want to know the answer to a question. Do you want me to help you block the sun?"

"unnecessary!!"

…

The "memory of disaster" continues.

In the "Feast of Betrayal", 99% of the population of the Eastern Continent died during the war and the subsequent sun fall. The continent fell into silence, with millions of deaths. This was the result of the Decline King watching the whole process, and starting from the Extraordinary Era. The largest mass death event found in.

It was not a war caused by the division of interests, nor was it a massacre to exclude a certain race. The reason for this death was extremely just and fair - killing the resurrected original spirit and giving birth to a person with the personality of the ancient sun god. The normal "God" of the Lord.

Ended with failure.

After the death of the ancient sun god, the three newly born gods and the rest of the gods went to the northern and southern continents to declare that the sun had fallen and that future humans must believe in them to be saved.

The war took place on the coast of the Eastern Continent, forming the "Ruins of Divine War" that enveloped the entire coast of the Eastern Continent, completely cutting off communication between the continents.

The Declined King witnessed the whole process and collected the "possibilities" that were all disconnected in an instant due to the intervention of the gods as a record of the disaster.

"I have a question that I would like to have answered by the Earth Spirit."

"Adam can't answer. The Seven Gods won't answer. You are the only earth god I can contact."

The real Creator who has lost his extraordinary abilities in the illusion will not notice that there is actually a person following him. However, when he turns around, the person behind him also turns around. When he dies, the person behind him is watching from a distance, forever. In the blind spot of vision.

A person holds a simple book in his hand, and the pages are turned every time the true Creator dies.

In books, the lives and deaths of millions of people have been lightly read.

Their living experiences are similar: "devout believers of the Creator", "believers of the eight angel kings", "peaceful, kind, living a normal life in a town in the Eastern Continent", "businessmen, farmers, craftsmen, Housewife, student, teacher, wanderer”…

They died for only one reason: "The Feast of Betrayal."

The earth in the distance has cracked, and there is no sun in the sky. The blood-red moon rises early, but the light cannot penetrate the shadow blockade. The flickering thunder and lightning could only briefly illuminate the world for a moment, but countless monsters jumped out of the darkness and plundered the flesh and blood of living people.

The vegetation in the farm was withered. Under the influence of the red light that occasionally leaked out, the remaining crops and flowers turned into some kind of tightly intertwined and twitching living things. They pushed open the roof, grew around the meteorites, and separated the corpses from the living people. One picked up and sucked dry into thin human skin.

This time, the true Creator did not die immediately. He lasted longer than before.

He was trapped in a burning house. The flames prevented the distorted plants from approaching, and left him with nowhere to escape. He could only hide in the small stone house, feeling the hot air gradually pouring into his mouth and nose, and every time he breathed, It was like swallowing a fireball. The ventilation in the room was poor, and even the hot air was precious, but he soon couldn't hold it any longer. He endured the pain of his skin being burned, and gradually lost consciousness in the high temperature and lack of oxygen. He felt like a piece of cake on a chopping board. The meat is cooked bit by bit in this small room.

The True Creator watched the flames climb up his legs and arms without feeling any pain.

There is only endless despair.

The True Creator sighed, closed his eyes on his own initiative, and ended his death struggle.

"It probably hurts a lot."

Grassland, a place abandoned by God. Towns, ruins.

Joy, pain, smiles, prayers, despair. Red, black, and white are constantly transforming into each other. The last thing that remains in the field of vision is the destroyed everything and the spreading flames of the earth. Monsters rush out from all directions, the sun is missing, and shadows and blood occupy the sky...

The silence after death was lengthened. The true Creator closed his eyes and lay on the ground:

"They should hate me."

The voice of the Outer God floated over along with the book: "They don't hate you."

The book flipped through the pages: "People who die in an instant have no chance to hate you. People who live a little longer will pray for your salvation and repent of their sins. In short, no one will scold you at that time."

"That's because they died too quickly, and they will definitely scold me when they recover." The True Creator said in a hoarse voice, the hot air hurting his throat, "Didn't you say that Klein might have a god-forsaken thing in his hand?" A person from the land? He must have calmed down and planned to convert."

Since divinity is now suppressed to the lowest level, the True Creator's language style has become very colloquial. As he speaks, the world lights up again. The True Creator appears in a mill, and the windmill outside is slowly turning.

There are still piles of wheat that have not been ground into powder, but it is no longer important. The true creator picked up the hammer and shovel from the corner, one in each hand, and was ready to fight the monster directly.

King of Decline skipped the name-calling argument: "Adam gave me an interesting point about necessary sacrifice."

"Considering that Adam is your divinity and part of you, I decided to ask you what you think of a 'necessary sacrifice'."

"So you let me experience so many memories of people who died at that time?"

The earth shook, and the disaster began. The True Creator rushed out with a hammer and shovel. Seeing that the wild dogs on the street were mutating, He slapped them down with a shovel on the spot, turning the wild dogs into squirming flesh, with blood everywhere. splash.

“Empathy may give you better answers.”

The True Creator stepped hard on the shovel, and a large amount of turbid blood was squeezed out of the squirming flesh like a sponge, and it soon stopped moving. After solving this hidden danger, the True Creator suddenly felt a cold wind blowing on the back of his neck. He swung the hammer behind him without hesitation, smashing the head of the mutated monster behind him into pieces.

"If you ask me - the past me, I can only say that I have no regrets."

The True Creator added two more hammers and completely smashed the head and brain of this fish monster that was once probably an elf into mud, and he was also splashed with blood on his head and face. He casually wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve so that he could open his eyes smoothly.

Losing extraordinary power and dying so many times aroused a little bit of unwillingness and resentment in the heart of the true Creator. Rather than waiting for death in peace and contentment, He was willing to fight for a while - even though He knew that it was over. Tragedies that have occurred for thousands of years, layers of history and time have covered them up, and even the true Creator himself has almost forgotten them.

No, it’s not that I forgot about it—but that I took it for granted.

Because I took it for granted, I was sent to the corner of my memory.

This time it was a little longer than the previous longest survival record, but this person in history is now dead. His upper body was bitten to pieces by a mutated wild dog and died. The Outer God thought for a while and did not turn the page. Rather, we follow in the footsteps of the true Creator and follow behind Him.

"I know, you don't regret it."

"Yeah...how can I regret it?"

In a world where he could die at any time, and in a situation where he was almost the same as a normal human being, his emotions were inevitably a little excited.

"If I don't do this, I will die, and another person's will will replace mine... If I don't do this, the world and the prototype of civilization that I have worked so hard to build will be destroyed, and the alien races may unite again, and the original They may break through the barrier, swallow the essence and extraordinary characteristics, and then quickly die due to the collision of paths... They can still regenerate, but I, my angels, my believers and my country will never come back!"

"How could I not do this? How could I regret it!"

"but……"

A house on the street exploded, huge beams collapsed, and smoke and flaming wood flew everywhere. The True Creator was caught off guard and was hit by a piece of wood, losing his balance.

At this moment, a strange bird with five eyes swooped down and pierced His throat with its sharp beak.

While screaming strangely, the strange bird tore half of his neck, tore open his trachea and throat, pulled out its beak and pecked at the flesh and blood of its prey. Not long after, he coughed up blood and suffocated to death.

This memory is over, or should have been over long ago.

Just as the Declined King was about to turn the page, the True Creator suddenly sat up suddenly, covered the crawling crack in his throat, and hissed:

"Again!"

The Outer God looked at him sideways: "I don't provide the archiving function."

"Just now was the best I've ever had. There aren't many opportunities to find weapons again." The hole on the True Creator's neck was still there, and His words were a little out of tune and leaky. "Don't you want to hear what I have to say? I'm leaving. Here, I wouldn’t have such rich emotions.”

The Declined King thought for a few seconds and reluctantly nodded.

The surrounding environment lit up, and they returned to the mill near the windmill.

The True Creator picked up His weapons again. Considering the exploded house, He also wanted to bring an old wooden board in the room, but had to give up because of his limited weight-bearing capacity.

"It's time for you to continue answering the questions."

"question……"

After killing the wild dogs and knocking the mutated elves to death, the True Creator followed the process of the week, then walked around the exploding house, and then said while recalling:

"The reason I did it was simple. I didn't want to become another person, and I didn't want everything I created to be destroyed."

"I am the only righteous god. If you don't follow me, you will be an evil god. Of course, my choice is absolutely correct."

"...But do I actually want to let so many people die? I definitely don't want to. If I don't care, then I won't be me, and I will be no different from the original."

The Declined King followed quietly, watching as the True Creator knocked away the out-of-control Extraordinary, used a shovel to prop up a collapsed wall, and found two children pinned underneath.

The two children were unwilling to come out, so the True Creator had to put up more walls. Only then did he realize that the two children were being protected by their parents, and the parents had died after their spines were broken by the collapsed wall, and their blood was still there. hot.

The True Creator's movements paused for a moment, and then He ruthlessly pulled the two children out of their parents' arms, grabbing the collars of the two children with one hand and holding a hammer in the other.

"Where did you say that? Well, I definitely didn't want to kill so many people, but I still did it, because for me at the time, the instinct of survival was higher than anything else, and the believer...as long as I live, the believer There will be more and more of them. As long as I live, human beings will continue to prosper...so I ignored them. Even, I think this is a helpless move. If I am not willing to sacrifice you, then I will die."

"If I die, it's all over."

The Outer God recorded quietly.

"Actually, even if I really die, everything is not over."

"Even the pillar doesn't have to be me. Isn't there still a mystery?"

The True Creator suddenly sneered: "The six gods divided up my faith, and they led mankind to continue to survive...Only the people who suffered because of me were left in the cursed and abandoned land forever. It was me who caused the disaster. Of them, I am the one who thinks they are right.”

"Isn't the feast of betrayal a huge disaster?"

"Then they declare in the holy scripture that the six gods protect mankind from disasters. I have nothing to say."

On the burning street, the True Creator, covered in blood, dragged two crying children, holding a hammer in his hand, and limped toward the open space outside the city.

There was a carriage parked in the open space. The horse had been frightened to death by the huge disaster, and mutated monsters were eating its flesh.

The true creator cursed secretly, and the monsters were alarmed by the child's cry, abandoned their dead horses and rushed towards the live prey.

The child was snatched from his hands and the crying stopped abruptly.

He struggled to resist, using up his last bit of strength, and even thrust the decorative cross on his clothes into the monster's eyes, but to no avail. The monster tore out his throat and bit off the flesh on his shoulders. The world in front of him fell into darkness in the severe pain.

"...Come again!"

The Declined King was noncommittal: "Is there anything else you want to say?"

"I don't regret it, but I forgot one thing." The True Creator fell to the ground on his back and quickly adjusted his breathing.

"Since they died for me and for my purpose, then I should not take their death for granted."

"I should be grateful to them and remember them..."

"…and will forever bear the sin represented by this sacrifice."

The Declined King calmly finished recording his speech, and the book in his hand glowed: "Thank you for your answer. I can almost understand the difference between you and Adam, so let's continue."

At the beginning of the third round, they emerged from the mill again, taking up weapons to kill dogs and fish in one go. The True Creator immediately ran over to save the two children. This time, their parents were not dead, but they were both seriously injured. His ribs were inserted into his lungs and he wouldn't live long.

"God...Father..."

The young couple who had not yet expired pushed the child who was about to cry out of breath in their hands and pushed it to the hands of the true Creator. Because the True Creator wears a cross on his body, he is naturally regarded as a monk of the Lord.

"Save...the child..."

The mother, who was slightly injured due to her short stature, had blood bubbles in her mouth. After seeing that the child still had a glimmer of life, the father, who took his last breath, had already closed his eyes and died.

The True Creator did not dare to delay and immediately dragged the two children out.

Seeing that the children were temporarily safe, the mother smiled, steeled herself and thanked the true Creator:

"Thank you...praise...beautiful...praise the Lord..."

The True Creator clicked his tongue, feeling that the blood on the other person's face was too red. Without a word, He took the crying children away from the collapsed wall and walked from the other direction to the open space on the outskirts of the city.

Along the way, they encountered other living people.

"Go forward," He said, "Go forward! No one will come to save you. If you still have the strength, leave here!"

Some people have begun to mutate irreversibly, but are still mentally normal, begging others in agony to give them a break. Some people have damaged limbs and are unable to maintain balance. They are waiting for death in the corner with blood all over their bodies and clutches in their hands. Holding a wooden cross, some people were injured and could not walk fast, begging the true Creator who could not save themselves to take them, or take their families and children. The moment they were promised, their eyes brightened, as if they had received hope and life. continue.

"Stop praising the Creator..."

More and more living people gathered around, and the layer upon layer of prayers in his ears made the True Creator tighten his fists.

Your Lord will not save you.

Your Lord has made you a sacrifice!

Sacrifice - in the original meaning, it just refers to sacrifices such as cattle, sheep and pigs.

The sacrifices are meant to die. Just as humans are anchors and livestock in the eyes of the gods, isn't it natural to kill them?

It's a possession, it's an anchor, so it's normal to feel heartache, anger and pity.

But why should we feel uneasy, why should we suffer from this, why should we empathize with the sacrifices, why should we lower ourselves, lower our heads, to be at the same level as the livestock, to feel the despair and sadness of their sacrifice?

"in this world……"

"People of the Eastern Continent, you are the only ones qualified to turn your back on the Creator and even curse Him."

These can all be reasons: doomsday, righteousness, the life of the Creator, the survival of mankind, civilization, pillars...

No matter what the reason is, you must face the reality: these millions of people were actually sacrificed! !

In the memory of the dead, the blood of innocent people gathered together to create waves. Sin and unwillingness flowed in the sea of ​​blood on the earth. Strange plants turned into snarling reflections under the red moon and thunder and lightning, and meteorites and flames burned them down. Everything, the fragments of people and buildings burned in the sea of ​​fire, countless people who had lived were abandoned, and the remains of civilization and the tragedy itself disappeared into the fragments of history.

The record of disaster continues.

The third time, the small team that had gathered was destroyed by a meteorite.

The fourth time, one person in the team couldn't stand the pressure and turned into a monster.

The fifth time, the sixth time, the seventh time...

The True Creator has begun to realize the advantages of the outer gods. In addition to being mean and cunning, He is also quiet enough to become a part of history and records. He does not like to make comments, is good at encouraging and observing, and does not feel that His current behavior It's a waste of effort.

Until the twelfth time.

This small team of nine people really escaped from the burning town under the leadership of the true Creator.

The sky would no longer light up, the sky over the wilderness was empty, and sin flowed in the shadows. The true Creator walked for a long time with a wooden stick as a support, and finally lost strength and fell on the stone on the roadside.

Others came to help, but He waved his hand.

"No need to save me, I can only go so far."

He warned: "There are monsters hidden in the darkness, don't let the torches go out, and don't go where there is no light."

Everyone looked at me, and I looked at you, and finally they all accepted the reality in silence. They took away the wooden stick from the hands of the true Creator, leaving Him with a broken oil lamp that was about to burn out, and then surrounded Him, silently Pray to the Creator and have a simple farewell and funeral.

The true Creator has a big head: "No need to pray..."

Everyone ignored it. In this world, praying for good people to go to heaven is the best wish that people can think of.

The two children who were rescued first had stopped crying, holding the cross in their hands and chanting sadly:

"Merciful Lord, Almighty God, You are God who was, who was, and who is to come."

They solemnly delivered the cross to an older middle-aged man, as if they were passing on the hope of life.

"The Lord gave this day, but it has passed in a flash. In obedience to the Lord's command, the night has come again. We got up early and offered morning songs to the Lord. Now we will rest and sing hymns again."

"Continent and ocean, famous cities and remote villages, when dawn comes, it is another day. We offer our devotion to the Lord and wait patiently for the earth to turn from darkness to light."

The girl who lost one of her palms took the cross:

"I know your deeds, your love, your faith, your bravery, your patience. And I know that your last deeds will be more good than your first deeds."

“The Lord gives us suffering, trials, and darkness, and He gives us hope and the morning star.”

The chanting of the young man covered in blood followed closely:

“There will be no more death, nor mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

“For our Father in heaven, the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours forever.”

The complete process took about an hour, but has now been streamlined to less than two minutes.

Everyone bid farewell to Him in unison:

“Dust returns to the earth, and spirit returns to Him who gave it!”

“All men are destined to die once, and after that there is judgment.”

"O righteous man, ascend to heaven to be with the morning stars..."

A small wooden cross is thrust into the hands of the True Creator, and an old white handkerchief is placed over His head as a veil for the deceased. The True Creator listened silently to their farewells and blessings. The broken oil lamp in His hand gave off a light as big as a grain of rice. He tilted his head and watched the people who escaped from death holding torches as they walked further and further into the depths of darkness. But always accompanied by fire and hope.

After a long silence, the lamp went out.

"What did you rely on to reproduce these?"

The Declined King appeared from behind Him like a shadow: "The big frame is the record of disaster, and the details are your memory."

"Can you recreate these events into reality?"

The Outer God was silent for a moment: "It can't be done now."

"It seems that this is the authority of your other path. Curse, blessing, memory, maybe..." the real creator sighed, "If your path were on earth, it would definitely be as popular as the 'apprentice'."

"It's popular in the form of a sealed object." The outer god's reaction was dull.

"How long have you been delaying me just to ask me this question?"

"Your No. 3 team has just finished praying. Medici is fighting against the Angel of the Storm. A restart has been used. There is no movement in the night. The Eternal Sun has provided some long-range support to the Storm. The situation is not bad."

The Declined King said: "Your morality and human nature are very interesting subjects. I just want to get some more information for research. You can leave now. - I will give you a gift."

He reached out, grabbed something in the air, and threw something to the True Creator.

It was the wooden cross, stained with blood and dents made by pinching, and there seemed to be warmth remaining on it.

The True Creator took the wooden cross, put it in his pocket, stood up, patted the dust, and looked at the Outer God: "You still won't let me go?"

"That is a gift." The Declined King said, "The gift is this."

The book floating in His hand flipped to the last page with a clatter, and the lives of thousands of people were swept away in one stroke. The past is gone, but the memories are always fresh. They have become them and are fixed in the unknown history. The forgotten people have become records in the hands of gods. The turning over at this moment seems to contain extremely profound mystical meanings. , as if their ordeal has finally come to an end, and the dust of the black past has settled.

"God has passed among you, leaving behind you a memorial of blood and tears."

He declared calmly and solemnly, and on the new blank page, a line of bleeding text slowly appeared.

The illusory scepter appeared behind Him and tapped lightly on the ground. The surrounding environment instantly transformed in this soft sound that shook the soul - just like the process of ink dizzying being reversed, and the darkness being expelled in an instant. Without a trace.

The True Creator stood in front of an altar, raising his head and looking at the flames at the top, in which the inverted cross was burning.

"I give you this opportunity. How much you can get depends on you."

The book in the hands of the declining king kept appearing bloody words, and then disappeared quickly after appearing briefly. He handed this book, which was too heavy to be picked up, to the True Creator. The moment the latter’s fingers touched it, extraordinary power appeared again.

Blood slowly oozes from the book, and endless mourning and prayers rush into the mind of the true Creator.

The Lord held up His sins in silence.

And carrying this sin, he walked to the top of the altar, which was as high as the mountain and as far away as the sky.

One step after another, the steps are like the accumulated bones of various ethnic groups. When you walk up, you will leave a bloody footprint.

As He walked up the steps, dark shadows swam up His body and sleeves like a swarm of living snakes. Spirituality and darkness from all directions crazily gathered around Him, surrendered at His feet, and turned into His clothes. The dark lines in His robe, the extension of His arms and fingers, His eyes and His ears. But God's steps never delayed at all, and his blood-red eyes reflected the reflection of the flame and the cross.

The rooftop was close at hand, but the books in his hands were getting heavier and heavier, and half of his body was dyed red with blood. The true Creator bound it to his own hands with the chains of shadow, unwilling to abandon this responsibility and escape reality again.

Then the vague spirits gradually ran out of the book. They were old people, young teenagers, naive children, and strong adults. They pushed Him with their hands and pushed Him up one level after another. Step by step, I stayed before ascending to the sky.

"Merciful Lord, Almighty God!"

The dead soul sings:

"Please do not forget us, your fallen people and compatriots."

Living memory whispers:

“Please don’t abandon us, take our souls with you.”

The True Creator also responded with words from the Holy Scriptures:

"The tabernacle of God will be among men. I will make my home with men, and they will be my people. I will be with you, and I will be a God among men."

The true Creator of this moment seemed more like a deity than at any other moment of madness.

He has crossed the gap of madness, stepped through the killing and blood, and shouldered the sins and punishments, enough to look down on all living creatures again and reach the top of the sky. He is the subject of the ceremony, the fallen and sinful God, where all long-cherished wishes are settled.

When walking up the last step, the whole world fell silent, and the souls were silent for this.

He walked towards the blazing altar flame, towards the silent black cross in the flame. The world gradually lost its light, and only a morning star shined in the sky above his head.

The True Creator looked back and stared at the bones, blood and tears he had walked along the way.

He pushed away the hands of the souls, faced them with open arms, and fell backward into the flames of the altar.

His body instantly turned into the fuel of the flames, and the shadows entangled the fire and climbed up the inverted cross. The chains and blurred figures slowly took shape.

Snapped!

The book fell to the ground, and the flames dried the blood. It opened spontaneously, flipped to the last page, and black words appeared on it:

"Lord God, the Almighty, your sacrifice is just and holy!!"

The souls were waiting eagerly. On the huge black inverted cross, the huge light wheel was burning like a black sun, with golden light blooming from the edge. Wherever the light went, endless shadows illuminated everything in the world.

The souls rejoiced and sang in unison the hymn of redemption:

“All to the Almighty and All-Knowing!”

"Holy!!"

TBC

——————

Medici, who was fighting with the Storm Pope: I am super.

Gad II, who was fighting with Medici: I am superior.

*Obviously, this is a super two-in-one update.