The Path

"What a difficult and arduous path?"

Fekewood Abby stood motionless on the engineering platform between the complex buildings.

The towering framework, its carbon alloy steel supporting the spine of this steel behemoth, resembled a gradually enlightened Hanged Man, with various information flowing from the mechatronic control consoles and mechanical workstations.

The scorching airflow from the southwest lifted the hem of Mr. Fekewood's clothes, creating a small gap in the zipper of his sun-protection suit.

His neck, exposed to the sun, quickly lost moisture and cracked like rough tree bark. Feeling the sting, Fekewood immediately lowered his head, becoming a mouse in the shadows in the blink of an eye, daring not to look at the brilliant sun.

"What a magnificent and glorious long road?"

He sighed softly, as if reminiscing about his life. His ideals were finally being realized, and he had gone further than Aohun Mingde.

"This is my path."

There are many people in the world, so many people struggling for a living, fighting for survival. They don't even have the right to talk about [ideals], only about [dreams]--

--Fekewood was both lucky and unlucky.

His luck came from the Blessed Holy Blood, from the flesh and blood of all living beings.

He had lost count of how much primal energy he had consumed to complete this path.

It started with the repeated collection of fresh blood at Station Zero, with Judas sponsoring this endeavor.

Then came the prisoners from the savage wars in Shangri-La. These blood sacrifices not only filled his stomach but also fattened the merfolk hybrids, turning them into test subjects for the Lightning Star project.

Finally, a camera, a religious artifact--

--Fekewood transformed from a blood-granting monster into a god.

From the moment the first foundation pile was driven into the Tomb of the