Chapter 216: Whisper

"The scent of evil"

Sacred light pierced through the floor, and for the first time, Li En used Detect Evil like a radar.

The evil lurking beneath the ground emitted a brilliant red glow.

"Crack."

The texture beneath his feet felt familiar to Li En.

A quick glance revealed broken bones, many coated with long-dried blackish-brown bloodstains.

The pile of shattered bones and the heap of skulls beside them revealed everything.

The stench of rotting flesh, corpses, and unknown fluids reminded Li En of the filthiest sewers—but more than that, it was the overwhelming "evil aura" that struck him.

The feedback from Detect Evil repeatedly warned Li En of the nature of the monster before him.

A deathly aura? Fragmented particles of undeath? A place where negative energy had been forcibly scattered, enough to form undeath but never allowed to coalesce.

This place seemed to be the monster's dining hall.

"Aaaoooh!"

The low growl from beyond the heavy door nearby seemed to be a warning to intruders.

"Huh."

But to Li En, it was a familiar flavor.

Problems solvable by combat aren't problems at all.

With a light swing of his grip on the holy sword, even the lowest level of its radiant power cleared much of the stench from the air—suggesting the odor itself might be a supernatural attack.

"Come then, let me see what 'whisper' means." He stepped through the doorway, where faint light seemed to glow beyond.

"Silence! No shouting in the library!"

The sudden rebuke startled Li En, and he instinctively stopped.

He looked around and realized the door had vanished—he was now in a completely different place.

It was a vast library, its white walls lined with countless books, all made of unknown paper-like materials.

The one who rebuked Li En was a monster—or rather, a "person" shaped like one.

He was tall and muscular, dressed in a strange, opulent golden robe.

From his lower body, which resembled a small war chariot, his upper body split into two.

One upper half was a bloated tumor; the other, a miniature assembled clock tower.

He sat before the largest table in the library, and before him stood a line of figures all clad in white robes—visitors seeking knowledge.

"Huh, how do I know that?"

Li En looked down and noticed, for the first time, that he too wore a white robe.

He understood—it was respect for the library's master and for knowledge itself.

This was the hall of all-knowing wisdom, and to obtain it, he had already paid countless prices. A little decorum and patience were the necessary path to knowledge.

Li En instinctively joined the end of the line, watching the bizarre creatures ahead slowly advance.

Each of them whispered among themselves, discussing the librarian's preferences—but in this hall of knowledge, no one dared raise their voice; whispering and soft speech were the most basic etiquette.

"So we're the Whisperers."

Li En quietly communicated with the long, slender creature ahead, discussing the "cost" of acquiring knowledge.

"My homeland hasn't had rain in over three hundred years. If this continues, the next generation won't even hatch."

Only then did Li En notice: it was a creature resembling an eel, slimy and covered in pulsating "pustules" that swelled intermittently. Yet he felt no disgust—instead, he sensed a surging vitality within them. They must be his offspring.

The line moved slowly and steadily, each "Whisperer" receiving an answer from the librarian.

Some vanished in joy, others in shock, making room for the next.

Yet all remained silent—in the face of knowledge and truth, humility was mandatory.

Soon, the line reached Li En's turn.

"The cause of your homeland's drought? Yes. One skull, and your child."

The twisted, massive "librarian" demanded a profoundly evil price.

Yet strangely—even Li En, the Holy Knight, felt it was only natural.

Knowledge and truth always have a price!

"That cheap?" The long creature happily agreed.

"Snap!"

The tumor half of the librarian's body expanded violently.

A bloody, gaping mouth tore downward—immediately severing half the body of the Whisperer who had just spoken with Li En, who collapsed backward.

His mangled corpse bled out as the pulsating pustules on his body were sucked one by one into the monstrous mouth.

"The reason your homeland is dry is that a Star-Root Earth Dragon slumbers in your planet's core. It's unconsciously draining all water from your ecosystem's life chain. Kill it, and the water returns—but killing it will also trigger planetary heat death. Either way, your world dies."

The clock tower portion of the librarian delivered the answer.

Only then did Li En notice: beside the sacred desk lay a pile of flesh and shattered remains.

Yet he felt nothing wrong—on the contrary, he felt joy.

This was the price of knowledge. It was glorious that so many devout seekers across the multiverse were willing to sacrifice everything for truth.

"What do you wish to know? Only one question."

The librarian finally turned to Li En. What did he want to know? What was he seeking? Li En instinctively searched for his deepest desire.

"How do I deal with the xiao?" This was the most urgent question.

"One arm."

The librarian glanced at Li En; the clock tower portion rendered its judgment.

His flesh half seemed dissatisfied, but perhaps this question was worth no more.

Yet the next moment, Li En shook his head—he regretted it. Only one chance. Was it worth spending it on this answer?

I still have limbs, a head, a torso—I could buy more.

"What was the true history of the Kingdom?"

"Two arms. Plus one leg."

This price likely reflected the "weight" of the truth.

Perhaps this was an acceptable cost? Li En was about to agree—but hesitated.

To waste this single chance—was that truly wise?

What does the Kingdom's fate have to do with me? Why should I save a kingdom I have no connection to?

If there truly is an "answer," I must ask what I most want to know.

"Can I ask anything?"

"Yes. The Whisper Library knows all."

Li En pondered, then asked his true question.

"What is the Thousand-Faced Dragon?" This was the answer meant for himself.

His calm words carried the weight of his greatest doubt.

It was the origin of all things—the truth beyond comprehension.

Why had the Thousand-Faced Dragon come? Why did it endlessly regenerate? Why had he been reborn in another world?

Li En feared no misunderstanding, no partial answer—the Whisper Library must give the complete truth, as demanded by the Whisperer.

"The Thousand-Faced Dragon... The Thousand-Faced Dragon..."

Unlike previous answers, this time, when the question was spoken, the answer hesitated.

"The Thousand-Faced Dragon..."

Both heads of the librarian murmured the phrase.

Countless books in the library opened themselves, searching for the answer.

"The Thousand-Faced Dragon! Dragon King! The Weeper! The Liar! The Reincarnator! The Guardian! The Killer! The World-Ender! The Outer God! The Old God! The Ancient One! The Evil God! The True God..."

Each seemed to have found its own answer—words surged through the hall, and the rule of "whispering" began to unravel.

The Whisperers, without realizing it, began to chant softly, calling out the name of this ancient, supreme being.

"Snap!"

The sudden sound drew every Whisperer's gaze.

The symbol of omniscience—the clock tower—cracked open.

He, had received no answer!

"Liar!" The Whisperer behind Li En suddenly roared.

"You don't even know!" A lion-like monster scolded the librarian's incompetence.

"You know! You know part of it!" The feathered Whisperer pointed out the truth.

"You dare not speak!"

"You dare not!"

"You are not worthy to be part of 'Him.' You are not worthy!"

For no reason, Li En suddenly felt rage—this thing was not the true knower; it was merely a...

"You are not omniscient. You are a fraud!"

Li En pointed at it. Anger made him completely forget the rule of "whispering"—his roar echoed through the entire hall!

"Crack!"

And so, the entire world shattered.

"Aaaaaa!"

"Drip, drip!"

When the eerie radiance faded, the library, once resembling a sanctuary, was gone.

In this stinking cave, only one bleeding, assembled monster remained.

Its body was a broken clock, its torso a corpse-eating demon bound to a pillar — a grotesque mockery stitched together from flesh.

The ground was littered with shards of flesh and bone; the monster was riddled with cracks, shedding fragments and spurting blood everywhere.

"Cough, cough."

Li En Sudar gasped violently, the foul stench he had unknowingly inhaled causing him to cough uncontrollably, nearly vomiting on the spot.

But the holy sword clutched in his hand began to radiate pure, sacred light.

The oath — the vow to protect humanity and human nature — was fully activated by the presence before him!

(End of Chapter)