Chapter 311: The Faith of the Nagas

Deep in the Spirit Realm, Leiketon relied on the paper effigy he had left behind to quickly locate the area where Wajie·Weir was.

After wandering for a while, he and Sasilier approached the undersea city where Wajie·Weir was located.

"A 'Three-Headed Holy Hall', its state is somewhat strange, like it's half‑mad."

Before they even got close, Sasilier had already sensed Wajie·Weir's presence and even knew his sequence.

Half‑mad? After being sealed in the dark depths of the sea for thousands of years, going mad would be the most normal state; for Wajie·Weir to still retain his sanity is actually a big problem. Leiketon pondered in his heart, then voiced his curious question:

"What's wrong with its condition?"

The last time he communicated with that three‑headed sea snake, he only felt that the other's sanity was exceptionally well preserved, and he did not notice any problem.

"This pathway, because of the influence of the True Creator, is inherently prone to madness and loss of control."

"The sea snake you mentioned, sealed by Solomon, over the millennia its condition has deteriorated, yet it strangely retained its own sanity, never truly descending into the abyss of loss of control."

Sasilier's tone revealed a strong interest in that three‑headed sea snake.

Leiketon pondered briefly, then spoke:

"It incorporates a trait of the Spectator Pathway; although I don't know which sequence it is, it should also have grasped some extraordinary mental abilities."

"The Spectator, in a certain sense, is actually the pathway most prone to loss of control."

Sasilier responded with a sigh.

In the course of their conversation, the two had already arrived at the Spirit Realm region corresponding to the undersea city.

Leiketon halted his advance, carefully surveyed his surroundings; violet light flowed in his pupils, his gaze easily piercing the Spirit Realm to behold the ruined city in the deep sea.

The strange marine life he had seen on his previous visit had completely vanished, as if they had suddenly migrated, leaving not a trace.

Those peculiar marine creatures he had seen before were indeed deliberately cultivated by it; he just didn't know whether they were meant to relieve boredom, to resist the seal, or both.

As he pondered, the violet light in his eyes shifted to a pale blue; he extended his left hand forward, releasing wave after wave of warm, clear radiance that pierced the Spirit Realm and illuminated the ruins of the city beneath the deep sea.

Under the bright light, the ruined undersea city revealed its true appearance.

Carved mainly from marble, perhaps because it has lain underwater too long, the buildings appear lacking in detail, with many parts collapsed and shattered, giving a crude impression — completely unlike the architectural styles of the Fourth and Fifth Eras.

This city, whose time of submersion is unknown, is remarkably free of seaweed and sand, preserved in excellent condition — almost as if it had just been cleaned. A thought occurred to Leiketon.

"It embodies a trait of the Manipulator, now fallen into slumber, in its dreams resisting the oppressive madness and tangled desires within."

Sasilier's voice sounded calmly.

He stepped forward, his form vanishing from the Spirit Realm in an instant and entering the real deep sea, walking through the ruined undersea city as if searching for something.

The next moment, he lightly tapped the ground — now a stretch of laid‑out rubble — with the deep‑blue staff he held.

The surrounding seawater surged up violently, flowing swiftly, encircling the ruined city and isolating a dry, water‑free zone.

Leiketon, still in the Spirit Realm, watched the scene silently, not rushing to set foot on that undersea district, feeling that Sasilier's actions were not yet finished.

As if responding to his thought, within the undersea city where the seawater had been sealed off, Sasilier strode forward slowly, layers of tangible darkness emanating from him and spreading rapidly outward.

Forming a pitch‑black, viscous 'ocean' reeking of decadence.

His staff lightly struck the ground, making no sound at all, as if even the noise were swallowed by that layer of darkness.

With his movement, the surrounding darkness suddenly came to life, swelling like a flood and coalescing into a strange sea serpent with three heads and eight tails; if one ignored its upper body, it resembled a colossal octopus.

Its entire body was shrouded in black shadow, obscuring most details — including the ages of its three heads — only faintly revealing many layers of overlapping, blurred patterns on its form.

It seemed like a conglomeration of various decadent thoughts, giving off an overwhelming sense of madness.

Sasilier directly ignored its roaring and frantic thrashing, and as he approached calmly, he casually waved the deep‑blue staff in his hand, causing blade‑like traces to appear simultaneously in midair.

These were blades emanating from the 'Decay' domain, extraordinarily sharp, capable not only of corroding flesh but also of annihilating souls.

The aberrant sea serpent formed from the amalgamation of decadent thoughts didn't even have time to react before being struck down by the blades.

Its body, enveloped in black shadow, instantly split apart, turning into pools of flowing black liquid that fell into the lower darkness‑'ocean'.

The decadence‑filled 'ocean' blanketing the undersea city swiftly faded, turning into ordinary shadow and dissolving into nothing.

After a brief silence, shadows began to stir and gather at the plaza in the city's center.

Sasilier walked forward at a steady pace, and on his right side Leiketon's silhouette quickly took shape.

"I recall this aberrant monster — it is the faith of the Nagas; I never expected it to still be alive."

Sasilier's voice was flat, tinged with a hint of mockery as he spoke.

Leiketon, quite curious, turned his head toward Sasilier and said:

"Has it been alive for a very long time?"

"Is this aberrant sea snake of the Hanged Man Pathway also a longevous species?"

Sasilier reflected briefly, then said:

"Its true form appears to be a mutated Naga; that kind of creature can barely be counted as a longevous species."

"Not exactly."

"My ability to live this long is also due to the seal left by that Black Emperor."

"This seal that warps rules also warps time's effect on me."

Wajie·Weir's body rose from the shadows gathered on the plaza; its three heads, each from a different age, spoke a sentence, completing Sasilier's answer.

As it fully revealed its form, Leiketon finally saw its appearance clearly.

Upon close inspection, it indeed bears some Naga features, merely magnified to dozens or even hundreds of times the normal size.

Its tail split into eight slender, tendril‑like limbs; where its head should be, three sea‑snake brains of different ages grew, their gloomy green vertical pupils filled with a chilling chill, like a terrifying predator lurking in the darkness.

Its body bears constantly shifting, strange patterns with a strong sense of distortion, as if they had grown straight from its flesh.

This makes its appearance immensely frightful; without bloody sacrifices, its mere visage is enough to become an evil god in various rumors.

Compared to a mutated sea snake or a Naga, it resembles more a gigantic mutated octopus — a thought that flashed through Leiketon's mind was instantly dismissed, for the mutated Naga before him possessed the traits of the Spectator Pathway.

"Dark Angel?"

"He is not a Dark Angel; the True Creator has not yet fallen."

What if it's because we were sealed here, and even our perception of this path was blocked?

Its performance just now was completely unlike that of a Sequence II Filth-Talk Elder, and the sense of oppression it exuded was the same.

You haven't really seen a Filth-Talk Elder.

You guys, stop arguing, and mind your appearance!

Wajie·Weier's three heads immediately started talking to themselves.

Leikedun stared at the self-talking Wajie·Weier before him, falling into deep thought. Its three heads each had completely independent consciousness; if decision-making ran into problems, how would they reach a verdict—would they even drag in their tails to vote?

You have been learning the Dreamweavers' ability, splitting your own consciousness into three independent personalities to counter the loneliness and madness that have accumulated over long ages.

Sasilier's plain voice spoke with great certainty.

That's right.

If I weren't often chatting and arguing with the two of them, I would have gone mad long ago.

Just being able to talk to you two old fogeys every day is almost driving me crazy.

We're all the same age.

Only it is older; I'm still very young!

I'm talking about mental age!

Wajie·Weier seems to have obsessive-compulsive disorder, or perhaps, in order to maintain the stability of its three independent consciousnesses, it has made a compromise and change: whenever one head speaks, the other two must also speak.

Your condition is being maintained very well, even better than some angels.

Sasilier praised Wajie·Weier in a sentence, and without waiting for a response, continued:

The seal left by Solomon has already been diluted quite a bit by you; lifting the remaining seal for you is not difficult, and I hope you will keep your promise.

Of course.

Thank you very much!

I will issue a divine edict to all the Najia still active upon the sea, declaring myself a subordinate deity of the true Creator.

Wajie·Weier opened its mouth somewhat impatiently; having been sealed in the cold, dark seabed for thousands of years, its longing for freedom and a powerful background has never been stronger.

If I had originally chosen to become a subordinate deity of some divine being, perhaps I would not have been sealed by Solomon in the seabed for so long.

(End of chapter)