Firebird was eternal, but the civilizations of the multiverse were destined not to be.
Along the way, Lu PingAn increasingly understood the direct relationship between such "great existences" and "Mortal World civilizations."
In a sense, she was like the sun.
She hung high in the sky. She would not interfere with what you did, nor would she stop you from creating bizarre organizations to worship her. As an ordinary person, you could completely act as if she did not exist.
Yet she profoundly affected everything about you—your society, your worldview, your race, even the energy sources and bloodline foundations of your civilization.
Your ancestors looked at her. Your Grandpa looked at her. You looked at her. Your descendants looked at her. The entire civilization looked at her, as though she were an eternal, unchanging Truth.
Your civilization had, in fact, always been tightly bound to her—or rather, dragged along by her "thigh."
That meant that when she left, even if your civilization did not end on its own, it would be utterly transformed.
"But from the looks of it, the benefits still outweigh the drawbacks. At the very least, I can't think of any reason she would perish before a mortal civilization."
Lu PingAn sighed. His thin notebook was a record of everything that had happened along the way, but it was also a ledger.
This journey to another realm was not as exciting as the previous "jungle expedition," with constant fighting and killing, but if anything went wrong, there would probably be no saving it.
". Today's earnings: 37 Karton. Not bad. Tell them to work harder tomorrow. By the end of the month, we need to have at least 500 Karton saved up."
Lu PingAn did not rush to take his pass and step through that unknown Dimensional