Chapter 597

The flagship of the Silent King, the Song of Annihilation,

this colossal vessel, vast as a metropolis, drifted slowly through the frozen void.

The Astrologer Orykan finished his daily stargazing, left the observatory specially assigned to him by the Silent King, and walked down the icy corridors of the massive ship.

He raised his hand and rubbed the area near where a human's temple would be.

This was not due to fatigue or headache—it was merely a habit retained from when he was still alive.

The Necrontyr were a short-lived race.

Their star had been inhabited by the Star God Nightbringer, whose terrible presence caused the star to undergo a metamorphosis, unleashing lethally toxic sunlight.

Under that light, the Necrontyr suffered countless diseases and lived extremely brief lives; even after they ventured among the stars and mastered countless technologies that now seemed like miracles, they could not erase the curse etched into their very existence by the Star God.

Among the already short-lived Necrontyr, Orykan was even shorter-lived—he was born with a massive tumor in his brain.

This tumor somewhat stimulated Orykan's brain development, granting him extraordinary intellectual capacity, yet it also constantly threatened his life.

According to the Necrontyr physicians of the time, Orykan's lifespan was roughly half that of a normal Necrontyr—the shortest of the short-lived.

Even as a Necrontyr, Orykan was obsessed with stargazing; his mind granted him a unique ability:

he could decipher the course of reality and the future from the movements of the stars, perceive ripples in the fundamental laws of the material universe, and discern the direction of the world's evolution.

For this reason, he became the Royal Astrologer of the Silent King.

After each stargazing session, Orykan would be utterly exhausted; the tumor pressed against his nerves, causing unbearable headaches he could not escape.

At such times, he would extend his fingers and rub his head, offering himself a negligible relief from the pain. Then he would sneak into the Necrontyr Grand Archive.

Necrontyr culture was deeply shaped by death; they held an inexplicable obsession with death, the past, and leaving traces behind.

The Necrontyr Archive was both a museum and a library, and also their race's graveyard—all records of the living and the dead were stored within.

It was like the Necrontyr's past, perfectly mirroring Orykan's observatory, which symbolized the future.

Orykan would sneak in, browse through past records, and tease Tarasyn, who back then had been dull, serious, and silent.

Unexpectedly, sixty million years later, he himself had become the serious one, while Tarasyn had become just as he once was.

That fool whose mind had been clouded by history.

Thinking of Tarasyn, Orykan couldn't help but shake his head.

He had grabbed Orykan's hand and led him to the Biomorph Conversion Furnace, telling him that if he stepped into the furnace, Orykan would be reborn, granted eternity, and no longer need fear the tumor stealing away the most important mind in the galaxy.

Then, Orykan and Tarasyn stepped together into the furnace's flames, and died together.

Sometimes Orykan wondered if this was why they both developed memory distortions after biomorph conversion:

Orykan had become somewhat like Tarasyn—in his memory, it was Tarasyn who dragged him into the Biomorph Conversion Furnace.

Tarasyn had become somewhat like Orykan—in his memory, it was Orykan who dragged him into the Biomorph Conversion Furnace.

Perhaps, maybe Orykan had become Tarasyn, and Tarasyn had become Orykan.

Who could know?

Even that history and time itself had been disturbed and corrected, corrected and disturbed, countless times in the endless war.

Orykan did not care—it was merely one fool dying for another.

Thus, as Orykan recalled the past, he walked toward the direction of the Silent King; this was how he now eased the pressure on his logical mind.

Suddenly, Orykan saw two figures beside the corridor—one tall, one short; one thin, one stout; one master, one servant.

The veteran General Zandrik and his bodyguard Obiron.

These two were acquaintances of Orykan's; not long ago, Orykan had served the Storm King, while Zandrik had been the Crowned General under the Storm King.

Yet both had now defected to the Silent King and become his subordinates.

Of course, Orykan acted under the will of that one—he was a spy, a traitor.

Zandrik, this old madman, probably still thought of himself as a Necrontyr, blindly loyal to the Silent King.

Orykan remembered that Zandrik had risen to Crowned General by ruthlessly suppressing Necrontyr separatists.

"Master Orykan! It has been many years!" Zandrik hailed him in his booming voice.

Orykan halted, watching Zandrik with cautious wariness.

The old man might be mad, but that did not mean he was not dangerous.

Not long ago, he had crushed several warlords attempting to defy the Silent King and eradicated a band of beasts disturbing the fringes of the Wraith Realms; now he returned in triumph.

Among all the Silent King's generals, Zandrik was the most dangerous in command.

And in personal martial prowess, Zandrik and his bodyguard Obiron—if they did not become "Light"—Orykan and Tarasyn together could not withstand them.

A commander and warrior who was mad, brilliant, and powerful, and likely still deeply loyal to the Silent King—if the Silent King discovered Orykan's true purpose, Zandrik would become one of his most formidable enemies.

"I still remember our time serving together under the Storm King!" Zandrik smiled. "I never thought I'd serve alongside a reliable man like you under the Silent King."