Chapter 186
As for those earth-shattering transformations, aren't they just creating new layers using Maya Illusionary Power (server computing power)?
"Ha, so you're saying that me, by setting up my own business, is essentially like another independent server?" Hebe's gaze was deep. "But compared to the Brahma Artifact, which is stronger, the 'magical artifact' I created using illusion magic?"
The thought of comparing strength and weakness flashed through Hebe's mind only briefly.
Her real concern was the Fisher King himself.
His actions bound the April Archon of the Fisher King to the Bharata Lostbelt, and according to the status of the Reign, He should already be in it.
So who does He correspond to?
Vishnu? Possibly. But currently, no server administrator named "Vishnu" has appeared.
Based on the snippets of conversation between the sages, Hebe can draw a conclusion—whether in the upcoming Vedic Age or in the more distant Dharma era, the sages seem to regard "protecting the world" as their power.
What do these sages want to do? Do they want to become Vishnu?
Having ruled out Shiva, whose imagery is completely incompatible, Hebe could only set her sights on the existing Brahma.
Recalling what the immortals said in their conversation, Vyasa, who is herself, was given the honorific title (account) of "immortal" by Brahma before she actually entered the Pure Land server.
So it's possible that the so-called Brahma was indeed the Fisher King himself.
"But don't I need to enter a password to log in to the server?" Hebe muttered to himself. "What's the use of just having a username... Who's going to fill in the missing part—the password?"
Hebe's mutterings echoed beneath the Bodhi Tree.
She was also curious to see what the Pure Land was like.
With her unparalleled wilderness manipulation skills, which are ten or even nine levels higher than those of ordinary people, she could burn all these immortals to brain death or directly hijack them into puppet machines through data transfer within two days.
Now she possesses dragon-slaying skills but is unable to develop them, and can only sigh at the server.
These immortals were completely unaware that they had already walked back and forth between the gates of hell and the gates of hell.
The inability to access the Pure Land server, while slightly troublesome for Hebe, is not an insurmountable problem.
These immortals were never someone Hebe needed to worry about dealing with.
She was just worried that Eris might be hiding among these fairies.
"Well, for safety's sake, a little trouble is fine." Hebe thought to himself while rubbing his feet. "Since I have some free time, I can improve myself and then turn this 'Spiritual Terrace, Square Inch Mountain' into another real server!"
If you can create this pure land, why can't I, Hebe, create it?
With that thought in mind, Hebe tossed her cane aside.
The winds and clouds gathered, gently lifting Hebe up.
Hebe lifted his right leg and placed it across his left knee, while his left leg relaxed and hung down, with his toes just touching the ground.
She slowly closed her eyes, placing her hands on her knees.
Almost the instant she closed her eyes, beautiful pansies bloomed naturally on the ground where her toes touched.
In the blink of an eye, the pansies had bloomed all over the courtyard.
In the distance, clouds, green cliffs, deep forests, and distant mountains reappeared... but this time they were no longer illusions; these scenes possessed a real quality.
The sound of flowing water came from afar.
Hebe, however, seemed completely unaware, and her breathing became extremely long and even.
Outside Fangcun Mountain, a fertile marshland gradually appeared; beyond the marshland, a misty fog once again emerged.
Thus, ten years passed.
260 There should be no hatred (Please refresh)
Ten years.
It is enough to make a seed grow into a big tree, and enough to make a house collapse due to years of disrepair.
It is enough to plunge a long-peaceful nation into the shadow of impending war, and enough to turn an ignorant child into an adult who worries about the future.
The smiles on the faces of the women washing clothes by the river gradually disappeared, and fewer and fewer of the men who left their homes to go to the battlefield were able to return safely.
But worrying is useless.
Her father had died long ago, and her mother had also passed away within the last ten years.
Kama was not saddened by this.
In this era, people's average lifespan is very short, except for immortals.
"Sati, give me your clothes." Kama reached out to Parvati, who was also squatting on the shore. "You don't need to get wet. If you get angry later, you'll blame me for not taking good care of you."
Parvati, who also had long, light purple hair, hesitated for a moment.
"I, I can work too."
"We are different," Kama replied calmly.
She calmly spread out the washed clothes and hung them to dry on the flat bluestone beside her; then she calmly stood up, took the unwashed clothes away from Parvati, spread them out one by one, and soaked them in water.
The brightly colored gauze gradually became soaked with water, and those flowing colors became dull and faded in the water.
Sweat clung to Kama's forehead, and a few strands of his purplish hair were also sticky, like the veins of a wilted leaf under the sun.
What's different? Parvati wondered.
They clearly share the same blood, both have purple hair, and even their faces are so similar.
But since Kama had mentioned "the Lord of Life" earlier, Parvati could only sit back down in frustration, watching Kama busily working in the afternoon sun.
"The Creator" is the title of the Lord of Mohenjo-daro, meaning the creator of the universe.
—His name was Dasha, and he was Parvati's father.
Of course, the Progenitor Daksha was also a "celestial being".
Therefore, he was both the Lord of this city-state and the leader of the priestly class.
Daksha lived long enough and held a high position.
Even now, he is still full of energy. Parvati is his youngest biological daughter, and "Sati" is her nickname.
They do have almost identical appearances, but anyone who looks at them can easily distinguish between the two.
Parvati possessed a noble and lofty aura, like a snow-capped mountain. Although she often wore a smile and seemed kind and approachable to everyone, a loneliness lurked beneath that smile.
She didn't know why no one wanted to be with her.
No one told her that if anyone dared to talk to her about those irrelevant topics, the wrath of the Progenitor Daksha would immediately descend.
Naturally, no one would tell Parvati that her smile comes from a comfortable life and a sense of superiority.
Kama, on the other hand, possessed a certain perseverance that could not be described as bitterness.
When Kama stood before the people, her eyes were so dim that they were not easily remembered, but when people inadvertently talked about her, they would always fall silent.
Those were resolute eyes. Few people living here have ever seen heavy snow, otherwise they would surely have described Kama's eyes as "blue stones covered by heavy snow."
Kama did indeed look very similar to Parvati, and they were also close in age. That is why Daksha, the Progenitor Daksha, appointed him as Parvati's playmate.
They were called playmates, but in reality, they were servants.
When Parvati gets married in the future, she will accompany her to attend to her.
"Alright." Kama spread out the last piece of clothing and placed it on the bluestone to dry.
She didn't dislike this simple labor; during the process, Kama was always able to clear her mind.
Compared to herself, Parvati's situation was far more arduous. As the daughter of the Lord, whether she wished to pursue asceticism or find a suitable husband, she would need to learn numerous sacrificial rituals.
During the fire ritual, people often sit by the fire for more than nine hours at a time, while continuously sprinkling flower petals into it and chanting blessings.
Of course, it would take Kama more than nine days to find these specific petals.
Just as Kama was staring intently at the dazzling light on the blue stone, Parvati came over and squeezed her hand.
"Kama".
"What's wrong, Sati?" Kama turned around. "Do you want something to eat? I brought some milk curds with me when I came out."
"Oh, thank you."
Parvati took the milk cube that Kama handed her and put it in her mouth, feeling the sweetness spreading slowly, while saying something indistinctly.
"I saw you staring at the stone so intently just now, I thought you were going to fall into the river," Parvati teased with a smile. "Didn't there come a story about a family who were fishing by the river, but they were all misled by the light reflected off the water and ended up jumping in one after another. They didn't float to the surface until two days later."
"I was staring at the stone, not the river," Kama replied calmly. "Even if I were distracted, I would have run into the stone, not fallen into the river."
"We are sisters, I'm just concerned about you!" Parvati said.
"Thank you for your care, Sister Sati."
"Could you be a little more sincere?!" Parvati reached out and pinched Kama's cheek.
Kama did not dodge, letting Parvati ravage his face.
As the sunlight gradually faded, Kama and Parvati folded their clothes and placed them in a clay pot—a task that the Progenitor Daksha would not blame them for.
As the daughter of the birth master, she may not have to worry about trivial matters, but she will still need to serve her husband personally in the future.
The Progenitor Daksha married off his dozens of daughters to the various immortals, and each of them did so.
"I'll do it," Kama said calmly, refusing Parvati's further assistance.
She lifted the earthenware basin above her head, holding the rim of the basin with both hands to prevent it from falling.
Several children ran happily past in the distance.
Kama suddenly remembered that ten years ago, he was just as lively as they were.
As night fell, Parvati continued to chat idly beside me, while the light of the sacrificial fire shone from afar.
Kama suddenly remembered what Parvati had said that afternoon—about the family who were lost in thought while looking at the river.
They weren't misled by the light reflected from the river; they were simply too hungry to bear it, which is why they risked venturing into the turbulent center of the river.
What did they see in those shimmering waves?
Kama silently led Parvati back to the palace.
She said goodbye to Parvati at the door and then put down the earthenware basin containing the clothes.
Kama took out the clothes one by one, opened them, and hung them up.
By the time she finished doing all this, the bright moon was already high in the sky.
Kama rubbed her face, then touched the milk cubes in her pocket; there were still eight left.
She took the milk curds out and held them in her palms as if they were some kind of treasure, and quickly walked to a secluded temple.
One after another, eight milk cubes fell into the sacrificial basin in front of the statue.
Parvati thought that Kama had brought the snacks on a whim, but in fact, these things were originally sent by the Progenitor Daksha to Kama.
Kama is not qualified to eat these milk curds.
After Kama had done all this, he turned around.
She learned to control her desires very early on.
The girl turned around and saw a tall, imposing man standing at the temple entrance.
The man was over two meters tall, with thick eyebrows and eyes, but his hair was shaved completely, with only a long braid in the middle.
Upon seeing him, Kama immediately knelt down obediently.
This man was Progenitor Daksha, the Lord of this city-state and the leader of all the priests. He was both a sage and the father-in-law of the other sages.
"Kama, you have done very well."
"All of this is the teaching of the Lord."
Kama answered calmly, knowing that the sudden appearance of the Progenitor Daksha must mean something had happened.
"Hmm." The Progenitor Daksha calmly accepted Kama's prostration. "I remember that your father was one of the first warriors to be called to the battlefield to fight against those demons."
"Yes, you are absolutely right."
"He is also my descendant," Dasha said. "Each of us is constantly sacrificing and working tirelessly to protect what we cherish."