Chapter 207

A "voice" carried on the Breath of Stillness drifted from afar—not a sound heard by the ears, but information like a sapling straining to grow—"Go away, go away—the fur's all messy—"

Ang sprinted through the empty bubble, quickly, suddenly crashing into another empty bubble.

This was a massive empty bubble; the Breath of Stillness, upon reaching it, silently diverted around, forming a windless space, just like the World Tree.

The source of this empty bubble was a colossal beast, its body sixty meters in diameter, covered entirely in fluffy fur, bristling outward and puffing it into a sphere.

The sphere simply sat there, mouth open, emitting a silent roar at the Breath of Stillness: "Go away, go away—the fur's all messy—"

The Breath of Stillness obediently avoided.

Within a two-hundred-meter radius centered on the furball, the wind became extremely calm, just like the windbreak zone surrounding the World Tree.

Ang entered this empty bubble zone without caution, and happened to lock eyes with the giant furball.

The giant furball blinked its eyes, blinked again, and kept roaring at the air—it probably thought it was roaring, but Ang saw it as exhaling; regardless, the Breath of Stillness obediently diverted around it.

Ang was ignored; to a sixty-meter-wide furball, a human-sized creature was no more than a tiny ant, and compared to the Breath of Stillness, a human intruding into the bubble was utterly insignificant.

Realizing the furball had no intention of paying him any attention, Ang tiptoed out of the bubble, retreated into the range of the Breath of Stillness, and squatted down on the ground.

With the sapling on his head, the Breath of Stillness would divert around it; within a roughly half-meter radius centered on the sapling, a circle formed where the Breath of Stillness could not erode.

Ang's soul resided in his head, precisely within this circle; when he squatted down, most of his body entered the circle, rendering the Breath of Stillness harmless to him—as long as he didn't move.

Ang squatted outside the bubble, observing the giant furball; aside from the World Tree, this was the second living thing Ang had ever seen capable of suppressing the Breath of Stillness, and its fluffy appearance was certainly not native to the Breath of the Abyss—where had it come from?

After watching for a while, the fur beneath the giant furball stirred, and two armored Holy Knights clad in faded Holy Light armor emerged, each holding several ragged zombies by ropes.

One of them hammered an iron bolt into the ground and tied the zombies to it; the two Holy Knights began digging a pit. After digging for a while, the younger Knight complained: "Can't we just dump them and leave? Why do we have to dig a hole and bury them?"

The older Knight snapped back: "Can't you hear the howling wind outside? If we just leave them exposed, the dimensional beast leaves and the wind instantly kills them."

"They're already dead," muttered the younger Knight, unimpressed.

After digging a while longer, bored by the task, the younger Knight couldn't help asking: "Captain, where are we? Why is the top brass so concerned? Why are we secretly planting Corpse-Eating Fungus here?"

The older Knight scoffed: "What gave you that impression? If it were important, would they have sent just the two of us?"

The younger Knight immediately bristled: "Captain, what do you mean by that?"

"People need self-awareness. With our strength, what important task could we possibly accomplish? This is clearly a mission where success brings no credit, and failure brings no blame—you're upset about it? I dream every day of doing exactly this kind of work: no glory if we succeed, no blame if we fail—how peaceful!"

"Old timer," the younger Knight muttered, sneering; he was still young, still dreaming of glory, divine favor, and power, not willing to settle for the older Knight's lazy, aimless existence.

Seeing the younger Knight's reaction, the older Knight wore an expression of having seen it all, and chuckled: "Can't say it's unimportant—any mission involving a dimensional beast is important. Maybe they really are trying to cultivate you."

"Really? I knew it!" The younger Knight instantly perked up, his energy surging, digging faster.

But no one told him: if a companion's words sound harsh, they might be true; if they sound sweet and flattering, easily hitting your sweet spot, they're probably lying.

Bringing up the topic of dimensional beasts, the younger Knight grew hesitant, glancing up at the giant furball as it struggled against the Breath of Stillness, then lowering his voice: "Captain, why is such a huge monster so obedient?"

The older Knight smiled: "You've got it wrong—when has it ever been obedient? Try ordering it now and see if it pays you any mind? It only acts because it has some agreement with the top brass; otherwise, even if you stripped naked, salted and perfumed yourself right in front of it, it wouldn't care."

"Good, good—better if it ignores me," the younger Knight sighed with relief, his youthful bravado gone: "One swipe from it and we'd be paste."

Soon, the deep pit was dug. The two Knights pulled out the iron bolt, planted it at the pit's bottom, tied the zombies to it, and dripped some kind of liquid onto the ropes.

Thus, the corroded ropes would break within hours, allowing the bound zombies to wander free, spreading the Corpse-Eating Fungus throughout the entire Abyss.

Just as the two Knights prepared to retreat into the giant furball's fur, the long hairs suddenly parted, and a handsome knight clad in black armor emerged, leading a sturdy bone horse.

Within the furball's fur lay a dimensional passage; when its body simultaneously spanned two spaces, this passage connected both worlds.

Many wanted to know the shape of the dimensional passage, but the furball's fur was too long—no matter the method, no one could find its boundary; all that was known was that if you walked deep enough into the fur, you'd reach another realm.

The sudden appearance of a black-armored knight leading a bone horse startled the two Knights; the younger one instinctively reached for his sword—but his hand had barely touched the hilt when the older Knight pinned it down.

The older Knight placed his hand over his chest and bowed respectfully: "Forgive us, my lord—we received no notice of your arrival. May we ask your name?"

The handsome black-armored bone horse knight placed his hand over his chest in return and replied politely: "My fault—I was too casual and didn't notify the front lines of the Abyss. Seeing the dimensional beast, I came over. I am Shadow Knight Julian."

"Gasp—Shadow Knight Julian, the one who walks beneath Holy Light? Your servant!" The older Knight dropped to his knees, frantically tugging at the younger Knight's sleeve.

The younger Knight was bewildered—wasn't the black-armored knight on horseback an enemy? Shadow Knight? He'd heard of them—higher than Divine Knights, the closest to the gods beneath Holy Light.

Seeing the younger Knight's blank expression, Julian politely said: "You should thank your companion—he saved your life. The moment your sword left its sheath before me, you were already dead."

The younger Knight gasped, overwhelming fear surging from his core, causing him to collapse onto the ground, his groin warming, wetting himself.

The older Knight hurriedly pleaded: "My lord, forgive him—he didn't mean it. Please show mercy."

The Shadow Knight nodded politely: "Very well. A minor 'correction'—you'll be incontinent for a while. Wash your pants diligently."

The older Knight's expression changed drastically; he lowered his head, and without a word, the 'correction' was instantly applied to the younger Knight—the Shadow Knight's power was terrifying.

And he was also petty—just an instinctive sword draw—and he used a 'correction' to cause incontinence, lasting for a while?

For this young, proud Knight, it was worse than death.

But he wasn't the younger Knight's father—what did he care? He just needed to serve this petty Shadow Knight well, lest he turn it on him.

"My lord, what is your mission here? Do you require our assistance?"

Julian smiled: "No need. You may leave. Let the dimensional beast stay for me."

The older Knight eagerly replied: "Yes, my lord!" and immediately helped the wet-pantsed younger Knight into the dimensional beast's long fur.

The dimensional beast glanced down at Julian, said nothing, and continued struggling against the Breath of Stillness.

Julian led the bone horse to the edge of the empty bubble and stared intently outward.

Unfortunately, he saw nothing—the Breath of Stillness at its fiercest was black; beyond the bubble, it didn't seem like wind, but waves of thick ink. Unless something glowed in the night wind, like those angels, nothing could be clearly seen.

Yet Julian stood lost in thought, staring at empty space, like a wise poet in contemplation.

But the bone horse beside him had no such patience; it grumbled: "What the hell are you staring at in this pitch darkness? Just get out the teleportation array and set it up."

His reverie shattered, Julian became so angry he could barely speak: "You… you… you're vulgar."

"Yes, yes, you're refined—you haven't washed your inner armor in six years, always doing these weird things, always dragging me out to freeze in the wind—get on with it." The bone horse impatiently urged.

"You know nothing! The inner armor can't be washed—it loses its effect! This strange wind blocks too many signals—taking it out now is useless. Wait for the wind to stop, you bastard." Julian's earlier polite elegance vanished; he was frantic, nearly jumping up and down.

"Signals blocked? That's troublesome. By the way, is this place really…" Before he could finish, the bone horse's mouth was clamped shut by Julian.

The bone horse realized its mistake and whispered silently with its soul: "Oh, almost forgot about the big guy."

After Julian released its mouth, it couldn't stay quiet: "Let's talk about something else—what's been going on with Lord Dai Sen? He seems really irritable."

At this topic, Julian's mood visibly improved; he smiled faintly: "Lord Dai Sen suffered a major setback on the main plane."

"Oh? Tell me, what happened?" The bone horse's eye sockets glowed with excitement.

"Archbishop Nicolas was assassinated, leaving the Western Diocese vacant. Lord Dai Sen rushed back to maneuver, hoping to be reassigned there—he imagined it perfectly: the Abyss had become his iron fortress; even if a new archbishop arrived, he'd be useless.

"If he returned, he could control Western Diocese affairs; with support from two major dioceses, after the Pope's death, his succession would be guaranteed. But Lord Anthony was even more powerful—he split the Eastern Diocese outright, founded the Holy Church, and declared himself Pope. It nearly gave Dai Sen a stroke."

The bone horse's lower jaw trembled: "Gagaga, really? Who killed Nicolas?"

"Need you ask? Obviously Anthony."

"Huh? Why would Lord Anthony kill Nicolas? He had such a good reputation in the Church—a kind gentleman, and the faithful in the Eastern Diocese had far higher happiness levels than those in the West." The bone horse asked, puzzled.

"Because Nicolas tried to assassinate Anthony. Somehow, Anthony revived himself, immediately consolidated the Eastern Diocese, armed himself, and forced the Church to punish Nicolas—while simultaneously deploying agents to kill Nicolas outright. Two-pronged strategy, distraction—Anthony is truly a master of strategy."

If Anthony were here to hear this, he'd probably burst into tears—he was innocent!

The bone horse laughed loudly, then suddenly asked: "But if Anthony split off, doesn't that mean no one's left to compete with Lord Dai Sen? Wouldn't it be easier for him to take the Western Diocese? Why is he so furious?"

Julian smiled slightly: "You're too naive. If Anthony splits off and Dai Sen takes the Western Diocese, he controls both the Abyss and the Western Diocese—who does the Church obey then?"

"Oh! I get it—the Pope would never allow that, so he was sent back. No wonder he's so angry." The bone horse understood.

"Exactly," Julian empathized: "What good is the Abyss, no matter how vast? Remote, barren—how can it compare to the sweetness of the main plane? That's my homeland, my soul's longing—there are delicate, fragrant beauties there…"

"Here we go again—annoying!" the bone horse snapped.

As Julian poured out his poetic musings, the Breath of Stillness gradually weakened.

As the wind lessened, things beyond the bubble became clearer; slowly, shapes emerged. Julian paused, squinting ahead—there, in the distance, was a faint shadow crouching.

A rock? Unlikely—it had a touch of green at the top.

As the Breath of Stillness faded further, the shadow became clear: it was a person, squatting with knees hugged, wearing a flowerpot on their head, inside which a sapling waved its leaves.

The person was looking back—eyes locked, staring into each other's.