"You don't dare?" Lin Ye's voice was very soft.
"If I told every civilization that there weren't enough definitions to go around, what would they do? They would fight. Wars. The strong would seize definitions from the weak, and great civilizations would devour the existence of lesser ones. It would be ten thousand times crueler than it is now. So I said nothing. I chose silence. I chose to let the system automatically reclaim the 'least-used definitions.' At least that way, no blood would be spilled."
Source Definition's voice grew softer and softer, until it was nearly inaudible.
"But I knew that was wrong. Those definitions that were reclaimed, those definitions that were discarded, those obsessions that struggled within the Wall of Obsessions for endless eras—they should not have had to bear this. I was too cowardly."
Lin Ye closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, there was no anger in his gaze, only an utterly tranquil light.
"You weren't cowardly. You just carried it alone for too long."
Source Definition trembled.
"But now," Lin Ye stepped forward, every star on his cloak lighting up, "you don't have to carry it alone anymore."
Source Definition remained silent for a long time.
Within that void devoid of all definitions, silence itself was a definition—it defined the boundary between "existence" and "nonexistence." And at this moment, that boundary was being broken.
"Lord of Embers." Source Definition's voice sounded again. It was calmer than before, yet carried something Lin Ye had never sensed from it—resolve. "Do you know the only way to solve this problem?"
"Let civilizations create their own definitions," Lin Ye said.
Source Definition trembled again. "How did you know?"
"Because we already did it once. The Ember Era did not borrow definitions from you—it was created jointly by three