Farewell to the Creator

Duncan's response left the dark red core silent for a long time.

After an unknown amount of time had passed, Shirley and Alice finally heard a deep hum coming from the depths of the distant "dark mountain range"—accompanied by the enormous main body at the center of the range slowly deforming and writhing, the Abyssal Lord's dark red core gradually rose and returned to its original position, to the place where it could overlook the land.

"A shelter can at least allow many people to survive. Perhaps for several thousand years, perhaps ten thousand... Even if it is not eternal, it is still better than being reduced to ashes," the dark red core said, flickering as its deep vibrations echoed across the wilderness. "My creators told me that survival was the first priority, and I have always carried out their orders—in my logic, nothing is more important than allowing the shelter to endure."

"Survival is indeed very important. I understand your motive for wanting the shelter to endure, but to me... 'possibility' is just as indispensable. And this current 'shelter' truly lacks enough possibilities for me to see a future in. It..."

Duncan suddenly fell silent. In that silence, his gaze swept over A'gou beside him, as well as Shirley, who still maintained her Abyssal Demon form.

Pland's great fire, the frozen mud, Lightwind Harbor's nightmare, the dead priests, soldiers, civilians, those who died in the line of duty and those who died for their faith, the limited Boundless Sea, and every explorer trapped to death within it...

Duncan slowly closed his eyes. The memories in his mind surged and tangled until they finally became a sigh. "...It's too dark."

The dark red core overlooking the land spoke quietly. "Then do you have a better plan?"

"No, but I have