“These spectres, if they manifest, will seek out their homeland. This is the road to their freedom,” said the great god. “Death and suffering await if even one is permitted to leave. In the distant past, before my awakening, a few spectres escaped into Orb, bringing with it the Abyss’ influence.”

The Chanter of Innocents tapped his feet slowly. “Taking advantage of my hibernation, these spectres carved open a road that led to the Five Lands six millennia ago, causing widespread destruction. Eventually, they were suppressed, and ever since then, only small numbers have charged out to their death. However, in the years to come, far greater numbers will pour out from the Crying Abyss. Without an adequate protector, your Orb and my Orb will be overwhelmed in days once I pass away.”

Gaius was silent. “And I’m that protector?”

“Yes.” Weiwu looked at the crystalline road sadly. “You will see for yourself soon. The Great Divide’s fall will unleash hordes of demons, each of them a reflection of the spectres within. And you will understand why I chose you, and why an Abyss Sovereign is needed. All this, however, is contingent upon you and the Five Lands overcoming the Demon Sovereign. Fail, and you need not worry about anything. At all.”

The boy shivered, not from cold, but from the absolute certainty in the great god’s words. At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel depressed. Even if they somehow got through the demon invasion, the flames of war could start anytime, with just a single spectre escaping.

“Now, with a war looming…” Gaius couldn’t help but glance at Weiwu.

“More and more people are carving their wills. And the rate of spectre formation will rise over the next few decades, even years.” The great god stared into the Crying Abyss. “A virtuous cycle will form, and more and more…Knights will emerge, pressured by the trend of their society.”

“But that will lead to more spectres,” Gaius replied. “And if no one is there to stop them, your children will be endangered eventually, thereby making your progenitors’ sacrifice moot.”

“Yes. And for this reason, you will represent me in the war to come. I cannot fulfil my promise personally, and you are, in a way, a bearer of destiny, much like the Demon Sovereign,” said the Chanter of Innocents. “While the war rages outside, I will hold the fort here, to preserve your world from the inside. But that is as much as I can do. Once I vanish, you’ll have an eternity to think of a solution.”

Gaius sighed. “An eternal servitude, more like.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I don’t.” Gaius replied. “And the idea of living forever sounds interesting.”

“It is, although the first thing you’ll learn is sleeping for years on end,” Weiwu replied. “Although I have little in the way of experience, the memories I inherited tell me that eternal existences don’t keep track of time very well. Lose sight for what feels like an hour, and a century might pass.”

“That sounds somewhat dangerous,” the boy replied.

“Not for you, maybe. But that’s why I’m going to persist for as long as possible. That’s the least I can do,” said the Chanter of Innocents. “This isn’t your destiny, in a sense. It is a product of your choices, and I’m more than willing to help.”

“Thank you.”

“That should be my line.” The great god stared into the rift once more, before turning away. “Let us return to where we came from. I shall show you another world, one that you never knew existed.

Leaving behind an incarnation, Weiwu led the way ‘up’. Once again, the vertical wall that stretched endlessly towards the city in Gaius’ sky blocked their way, but now that he’d done it once, he had no issues. The world flipped once more, and the Crying Abyss was now looking down from the sky.

Gaius didn’t know what the point of doing this was, but it was probably to hinder those spectres from leaving. After all, even great gods had things to do; it was unthinkable for them to just stand guard day in and day out. After making a mental note to build a small house on the road leading to the Abyss, Gaius caught up with Weiwu, who was walking towards the building-like crystals.

“This place, like many others, houses a few hundred thousand souls. They’re in hibernation, but at the same time, they’ve created a virtual world of their own,” said the great god. “There’s a place for people like us to send our consciousness in.”

He pointed at a small globe, floating in mid-air. “Place your hand on it and channel your energy to enter.”

His body turned into mist a moment later, flooding into the ball. Gaius stared at the miraculous sight, somewhat impressed, and then followed his instructions. A moment later, the world around him changed; the crystalline buildings were now buildings of brick and stone, and he whirled around a few times, only to see countless humans walking around, chatting and doing whatever they wanted.

“What do you think?” Weiwu spoke from behind him. “This is a world of their creation, of the collective will of my children. In a way, they’ve already surpassed their creators. None of us outside knew about this at all.”

A few children ran past him as he spoke, holding on to oddly futuristic devices. Both of them smiled at the sight, and without warning, the boy walked out of the building. Something like a sun was shining on them, but the heat wasn’t harsh whatsoever.

“It’s like a city from Earth,” Gaius murmured. “How can this be?”

“Maybe it’s a natural development for worlds without mystical powers,” said the old man. “Can’t you see? None of them, from the children to the adults, have anything resembling qi or ether. Life is truly unpredictable, full of potential.”

Gaius looked at the birds flying in the sky, tens of kilometres below what looked like a Hindenburg knock-off, and smiled. “I see why you brought me here.”

“Do you?”

“It’s such a pretty world,” Gaius replied. “And all this would be lost too, no?”

“Exactly. And there are so many cities like this one too,” Weiwu said. “If, one day, you can free them from this hibernation and bring them to your Orb, many things will change. The future will be limitless; once they learn how to cultivate—hm?”

“Something wrong?” Gaius asked.

“I have something to do. You should stay here for the time being.” He paused. “If you want to look around the outside city, just think about leaving, and you’ll accomplish it, although this virtual world is far more interesting.”

“How about my main body?”

“It’s badly injured. You’ll be knocked unconscious if you return there now. Why not make the most of your time? Besides, you’ll be dragged back once you’re healed up, so don’t worry,” said the Chanter of Innocents. “Now, I really must go.”

The old man vanished from the spot, leaving Gaius alone. The boy looked around the place and began to wander aimlessly. There was nothing much he could do, after all, but this Earth-like virtual world was a treasure trove of ideas and concepts.

Picking a building at random, he began to walk.