Chapter 588: Choice

Kelei En didn't know when he had come to his senses; he looked around bewildered, and upon seeing Leikdun and Azike, he hurried forward and said:

"Mr. Azike, here."

Azike turned his head, glanced at Kelei En, and gave him a gentle smile, his expression looking very resolute.

Kelei En silently withdrew his words of caution; even though he had a premonition, the thing hidden deep within the tomb was still very dangerous for Azike, who had already recovered all his memories and returned to his peak state.

The thing deep within the tomb was clearly closely linked to Azike, and even though he left today, at some point in the future Azike would be drawn here by fate.

As his thoughts turned, he heard Azike's voice:

"This is a problem that has troubled me for over a thousand years; although I now have vague guesses, I still want to see the answer with my own eyes."

As he spoke, his gaze gradually sharpened and grew resolute.

Azike lifted his hand to adjust the half‑high silk hat on his head, turned his head toward Kelei En beside him and said, "Remember to close your eyes; what's inside is still too dangerous for you now."

After speaking, he stepped forward, descending layer after layer of stairs toward the dark, icy depths of the tomb.

The dense black mist around them gradually dissipated, revealing the entity that occupied the deepest part of the tomb: a feathered serpent so massive it seemed able to cover an entire island! Its body was covered with huge dark‑green, almost black scales, and between the scales grew feathers stained with pale yellow oil; each feather bore an ethereal black filament that extended, linking to the corpses lying in the open coffin in the hall and to the extraordinary beings irradiated by it, the so‑called "Corpse Collectors."

This exaggerated feathered serpent was both illusory and real, its more concrete form defied description and comprehension.

It—no, He—is a complete mythic creature!

At the spot where its head should be was a human face enlarged proportionally, identical to Azike's beside it.

When he saw the feathered serpent clearly, Azike was first stunned, then his temples twitched as if a massive hammer were pounding his skull, trying to split him in two.

The unbearable pain forced Azike to collapse onto the steps, kneeling, his hands gripping his head tightly, trying to ease the soul‑splitting agony with physical suffering.

Heavy breaths echoed through the empty tomb; droplets of sweat slid from his forehead onto the stone slabs, staining them with a pale yellow oil that gave rise to fine white fuzz.

"No," Azike whispered in pain, his hand on his head pressing harder.

At the instant the split souls met, they instinctively yearned to become whole again.

Silently, star after star of twinkling light fell, cloaking the surrounding dark, icy tomb in a veil of starlight, and a tranquil, peaceful aura spread outward along the glow.

"Hoo~~"

Azike exhaled a long sigh; the fierce instinct in his soul to merge was soothed, making him less restless.

A whistling wind rose from the tomb's depths; the massive feathered serpent, straddling reality and illusion, lifted its head, and the face identical to Azike's burned with two pale flames, giving its gaze an icy, maddened look.

As its gaze fell, the surrounding stars began to flicker erratically; fine white fuzz sprouted from the stars, fell, then regrew at Azike's forehead, suddenly splitting open to reveal a blood‑stained wound, from which a golden‑yellow light burst forth.

Huh~ Huh~ Azike opened his mouth, emitting a heavy gasp; the soul‑rending pain and intense urge to coalesce left him unable to utter a full sentence.

On Leikdun's right hand, the mechanical glove sprouted a layer of fine dark‑gold scales, and his pupils turned a pale gold and elongated.

Using his manipulator's trait, he released a "soothing" toward Azike.

Seeing Azike linger, the massive feathered serpent deep within the tomb finally began to shift; it deliberately moved toward Azike, seeking to reclaim its other half of the split soul.

As it approached, the entire tomb began to tremble, the surroundings turned transparent, reflecting a world filled with countless skeletons and shadows, like a true underworld, gradually eroding the hazy starlight that shrouded half the tomb.

Within this reflected underworld, a blood‑soaked arm, countless dark‑green vines sprouting infant faces, slick tentacles bearing sharp teeth, and a gigantic hand made of white bones pierced the boundary between illusion and reality, extending outward to grasp stars in its palm and press them firmly to the ground, unmoving.

Leikdun looked down at his left hand; an obvious pallor had somehow covered the back of his hand, and fine white fuzz sprouted from its pores. "He"

Leikdun chuckled lightly, sweeping his right hand—still wearing the mechanical glove—across the back of his left hand; the nascent white fuzz fell away, and the pallor on his hand vanished quickly.

Then he lifted his gaze to the feathered serpent that pressed its massive face forward; deep radiance flowed in his eyes, tracing one strange sigil after another, interlocking to form a sunburst pattern.

As he spread his arms in an embrace of the sun, the stars seized by arms, tentacles, and vines suddenly turned golden, erupting with pure, clear light that quickly intertwined into a wandering sea of illumination, the majestic aura of the sun spreading throughout the tomb.

Where the light fell, the translucent vengeful spirits, shadows, living corpses, and skeletons gradually collapsed and dissolved.

The power of the Sun Realm provoked a reflex in the feathered serpent that housed the unique "Death God"; the broad, thick white wings on its back, stained with pale yellow oil, unfurled, generating gusts of fierce wind.

As the whimpering wind rose, an indescribable silence and a whiff of death instantly filled the tomb, dispersing the surrounding majestic solar aura.

The wandering sea of light quickly dimmed, fragmenting inch by inch, like bits of death moving toward an end, even though it was neither a living being nor a material existence.

"Um... no," Azike muttered, the environmental shift causing his body to undergo a more obvious transformation; black scales crawled over his skin, and between the gaps white feathers stained with oil sprouted.

At his forehead, golden light coalesced into a bird‑shaped ornament forged of gold, surrounded by wings of white flame; within its bronze‑colored eye, layers of light overlapped like multiple illusory doors.

With the emergence of this phoenix‑like golden ornament, two pale flames ignited in Azike's eyes, and his condition began to interact with the other half of the feathered serpent's soul, drawing them closer together.

Standing a short distance behind Azike and Leikdun, Kelei En lowered his head, eyes closed, the environmental shift sending his spiritual intuition into a frantic warning, droplets of pea‑sized sweat seeping from his forehead.

He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm as his mind raced, contemplating how to resolve the current dilemma.

Unwittingly, he slipped his hand into his coat pocket and felt a talisman.

Just as he was about to whisper the ancient Hekmis word that would activate the talisman, the surroundings fell silent, so silent that not even a breath could be heard.

A figure silently appeared before Leikdun; she wore a black, classical long robe with a hood, her face expressionless, eyes dark and soulless, yet her features were strikingly beautiful.

She positioned herself between the massive feathered serpent and Azike, like an insurmountable celestial trench, effortlessly separating them.

Leikdun met her gaze briefly, then bowed and said, "Good day, Ms. Amanisis."

Through the 0-17 that had brought the Night Goddess here, she glanced at Leikdun, gave a faint nod without expression—a response, suggesting the divine vessel also affected her temperament.

Having just emerged from his prior state, Azike hesitantly examined the suddenly appearing mysterious woman; after hearing Leikdun's greeting, he seemed to realize, his voice slightly hoarse, "It's you."

The Night Goddess inhabiting 0-17 interrupted before Azike could finish, saying, "You have three choices: press onward to seek wholeness, which will bring Salinger back from within you; or let me extract that half‑soul while you mend it yourself, restoring you to your former self, the Death Chancellor of the former Bailang Empire; or abandon everything and leave, remaining in your current state, dying repeatedly and returning each time with all memories lost."

"The price is losing the unique 'Death God' path that never truly belonged to you," Leikdun added with a light laugh, completing the Night Goddess's unfinished words.

Azike stared at the suddenly appearing Night Goddess, the pale flames in his eyes flickering uncertainly.

Before Azike made his choice, Leikdun looked at him and said:

"All things possess an instinct to complete themselves; a torn soul is not beyond repair."

"There are two ways: first, retrieve the other half of the soul, erase all its memories and emotions, then find a saint or angel of the 'Mother' path to stitch the soul, though some instincts and its divinity will remain."

"The other is to abandon that half‑soul, using certain special means to gradually mend your own soul through repeated death and rebirth."

(End of Chapter)