Chapter 379: Madness Born of Instinct

Inside a remote warehouse at Fei Neibote's Sevia Port.

Specks of brilliant starlight surged from the realm, hovering in midair, merging; after only a moment, they reassembled into a human shape.

The starlight‑formed figure walked a few steps on the ground, and amid its flickering radiance, the Prophet's Duplicate reappeared.

"The simulated ability is indeed not natural."

He muttered to himself, then moved toward a corner where the ritual materials left over from his earlier grain sacrifice onto the gray mist remained.

Taking a breath, he began arranging the ceremony to receive the grant. After preparing candles, herbal powder, spiritually rich materials, and the symbol representing the "Fool," he stepped back, lightly snapped his fingers to conjure a few flames, and lit the candles.

He summoned an invisible hand to toss essential oils and herbal powder into the fire; the flames surged upward, taking on a pale green hue, and the faint scent of herbs instantly filled the surroundings.

"The Fool not of this age, the Mysterious Master above the gray mist, the Yellow‑Black King who holds good fortune,"

"Your faithful servant beseeches your gaze;"

"Praying that you open the gates of the realm;"

Klein responded swiftly; in less than three minutes, Lei Ke Dun's gray‑white stone statue appeared before the Prophet's Duplicate.

His gaze fixed solemnly on the gray‑white statue before him, a pale blue tint shading his eyes. From any angle, it was an utterly ordinary stone whose very material structure had been fundamentally altered—unscientific, yet profoundly mystical.

After a brief sigh, he altered the existing ground ritual, redirecting it toward the Hidden Sage, then recited aloud: "Sage who perceives the world, eyes that probe truth, embodiment of endless knowledge and spiritual numbers."

As the incantation rang, the warehouse was suddenly shrouded in a dim gloom; both sound and the flow of air froze into stillness at that moment.

"…Hidden?"

The Prophet's Duplicate furrowed his brows; his intuition sensed that the Hidden Sage had perhaps been awaiting this moment.

His inspiration was suddenly stirred; an extremely dangerous, terrifying, unseeable presence descended, and a strong sense of peril made him instinctively shut his eyes, sealing all external perception with his spirit.

With his movement, illusory light surged within the warehouse, as if composed of wave after wave of tangled pure information rushing from the unknown, directly enveloping Lei Ke Dun's gray‑white stone form.

"…Knowledge Civilization Truth"

"…Essence Root Radiance Truth Guard"

Trapped in darkness, Lei Ke Dun suddenly regained some perception; he heard rustling sounds that inexplicably irritated his mood.

These sounds seemed to come from different people in various places, each with a distinct accent praying to some entity; the voices mingled into a noisy din, and no matter how hard he tried to discern them, only scattered fragments emerged from the vague murmurs.

What is happening? Have I already entered the underworld? Did I die so hastily? As the thoughts turned, he felt his mind become more active, and even the surrounding voices grew clearer.

"…The essence of knowledge, the source of mystery, the brilliance of civilization."

Though the sounds still layered, he could at least discern the clearer portions. It was a prayer, a prayer to the Wilderness of Knowledge—why did it reach his ears? Had he, after dying, returned directly to that wilderness? Yet shouldn't it still be sealed on the Western Continent?

Following the prayer's thread, he cast his gaze outward and saw figures bobbing on the sea—some were Naga? Others were dark‑yellow‑skinned silhouettes of clear Southern Continent lineage, clad in black classical robes, resembling fourth‑era sorcerers. Among them, one figure was especially devout, appearing as a faithful devotee who had offered body, mind, and spirit to a great being; his prayer was the most pronounced. As Lei Ke Dun focused, he discerned the figure's appearance and voice: a black robe embroidered with strange symbols and patterns, a black pointed hat, deep, spirited eyes, dressed like a folkloric wizard, seemingly inside a ship cabin.

Yi Sang—he is indeed a devout follower of the Wilderness of Knowledge; is this the source of the familiar feeling I had when I first saw him?

As he actively listened and forged a connection, the surrounding prayers multiplied, and an uncontrollable urge rose within him—to forcefully cram knowledge into these people's minds.

He felt his thoughts growing cold, turning mad, yearning to tear everything apart and assimilate all.

This relentless assault on his reason resembled the frenzy felt when ingesting a demonic elixir for ascension—an innate, primal madness and desire hidden within the potion and within himself.

As reason was continually eroded and pressed, those irritating rustling prayers became the best stress reliever.

The prayers were like an anchor set in the deep sea, preventing his reason from being drowned by raw desire and instinctual madness.

Is this the anchor's meaning for angels and the gods? As time passed, he gradually found a balance point, like a ship trapped in a storm—tossed yet not capsized.

Deep within his consciousness, now submerged in darkness, countless eyes suddenly sprouted—cold, indifferent, eyelash‑less, each seeming to contain a brilliant galaxy.

"Hidden Sage?"

The surrounding eyes stared unblinking; only the starlight within them flowed and flickered. Just as he thought they would not answer, a thin, emotionless voice echoed directly in his mind.

"Seek more humanity, forge more anchors."

"If your humanity cannot withstand the madness I have amassed, divinity will completely replace you; you have little time left."

A self‑talking feeling arose; a casual sigh crossed his mind, and Lei Ke Dun froze, a few unacknowledged thoughts bubbling up inside him.

After a moment of inner conflict, he asked another question: "Did you descend then? Yet left quickly without taking me with you—was that for the present?"

The surrounding cold, indifferent eyes calmly fixed on Lei Ke Dun, reflecting fragments of brilliant galaxies into his sight, while also transmitting its answer directly into his mind: "Steam has taken notice there; until you recover all of yourself, you cannot be seen by it."

"Let An Ge Er Wei De vie for dominion over the mental realm; this can delay the emergence of "God" and enlist a qualified psychiatrist."

"Strengthen the forces around the Fool; the earlier the Lord of the Mysteries appears, the more advantageous for us."

"The All‑Knowing One may have other plans; I cannot be certain. It is wise, a reliable collaborator, yet not one entirely trustworthy."

After digesting the Hidden Sage's transmitted information, he lifted his gaze again; the surrounding eyes that held brilliant galaxies had vanished, leaving only fragmented starlight constantly shifting and reshaping, like countless tiny pixels stacking downward.

In a moment, the surroundings turned into a pixelated, hazy wasteland—ethereal, shapeless; with enough imagination, any form could be outlined, and a realization gradually rose within him:

Knowledge has no form; it hides among all things. Each piece of knowledge carries weight, so it always stacks upward, aggregating all knowledge—the deity of answers to the ever‑changing universe.

(End of Chapter)