Chapter 32: A Not Entirely Perfect Conclusion
And at the very moment the man made his decision, heaven and earth were plunged into a lightless darkness.
In the pitch-black chaos, the crystal wall membrane of the Grandia World dimmed in an instant. The undulating light, like frozen seawater, solidified in place, while the fathomless darkness swiftly infected every corner within the world, causing the atmosphere, all things, and even time and space themselves to congeal and sink into silence.
In the void, a wave of nothingness, indescribable in any language, spread rapidly toward the Grandia World. A world that had lost fire, lost light, lost everything, should not exist; it was already a part of them. Such was the cycle of the multiverse: the death and rebirth of worlds would repeat amidst order and chaos, rotating between flame and nothingness.
However, another layer of light blocked them all.
A vast, sacred formation, composed of countless intricate patterns, gears, and runes, layered upon one another, enveloped the now utterly extinguished Grandia World. Its existence was so immense that any method of observation could only perceive a fragment of it. This formation, vast enough to shroud an entire world, had lain dormant for a thousand years, left behind by the Sage. It was finally activated by the extinction of a world, operating methodically, absorbing the world beneath it entirely, dominating every corner of its being.
And now, at the very center of the world.
Joshua held the First Flame.
In the darkness, everything came to a halt. Only the place illuminated by the flame's light had the rhythm of breathing. It was amidst this cold, dark embrace that the warrior resolutely made his decision.
Between the Grandia World and the Mycroft World, Joshua needed no time at all to choose. This was not cruelty, nor heartlessness; it was simply how things had to be. He had come precisely to save the Mycroft Continent; how could he possibly make any other choice?
As for the Grandia World?
This was a civilization born from the descendants of one hundred and three thousand sinners. Within this world, there were heroes with courage, and also cowardly betrayers. Like any other world, all sorts of people and things emerged endlessly among the masses.
It was not because it originated from betrayers that he chose to abandon it. The warrior scoffed at the notion that the descendants of sinners were still sinners. If the descendants of betrayers were willing to take up swords and wash away the shame of their ancestors' cowardice with their own blood, then why not give them this chance? Joshua knew all of this, yet still made this choice, simply because he clearly understood his own goal. So, there was regret in his heart, but no guilt.
Since the rebirth of one world required the extinction of another, then so be it.
Whether arrogant or not, I choose to bear everything, and I am willing to bear everything.
Let it all end.
The tiny flame, held in Joshua's hand, heavy as an entire world, sparked a single ember according to the warrior's will. And with the lighting of this ember, countless faint golden lights suddenly flickered within the darkness that filled the entire continent. These lights were like scattered stars, twinkling with hazy, magnificent colors. Then they converged, surging like a tidal wave toward the flame in the warrior's hand.
The souls of all living beings, like a silent, rising tide, surged toward the small flame. And along with this endless tide of light, four points of different colored light flew from beyond the world, rushing toward Joshua and merging into his body.
White, signifying the light of fire, the origin of all existence.
Silver, signifying order, the end that judges sin and evil.
Colorless, signifying nothingness, and also the beginning, holding the key to rebirth and destruction.
Cyan, signifying unlit fire, the source of possibility, the hope that has not yet occurred.
And finally, the blazing, warm light of the flame.
Surrounded by countless faint golden soul-lights, the First Flame did not blaze fiercely, nor was it drowned by them. This flame, indescribable, unobservable, determinable only by its existence, slowly rose with Joshua. It broke through the darkness, broke through the silence, and then merged with the sacred formation that enveloped the entire world.
The next moment.
Most civilizations in the multiverse capable of observing the void would be shocked to discover a fact.
On the endless Sea of Stars, a golden-red Star River spanned the immeasurably long void, connecting two dim stars at opposite ends of the starry sea.
The Mycroft Continent was naturally the same.
Within the Boundless Heaven, the sleeping deities opened their eyes.
On the Far Sea Holy Mountain, a white-haired Pope gazed at the starry sky, his heart surging with emotion. At the center of the Eternal Lake, two Elves touched the seed of the World Tree, which seemed about to sprout, and then looked up in confusion.
In the dry, scorching desert, a High Priest was teaching children. A middle-aged man who had just succeeded to his position pointed at the starry sky, patiently explaining the meaning of each star. But the crimson Star River disrupted his entire lesson. A wandering knight roaming the wilderness and various cities also looked thoughtfully at this scene, letting out an almost inaudible sigh.
In the mountains, beneath the earth, in the deep-sea Fishman tribes and the ancient racial ruins dwelling in the depths of the earth, experts raised their heads to gaze at the sky. The swordsman bearing the Holy Sword and the Mage living in the Sky-Piercing White Tower were shocked by this scene. Across the nations, kings and emperors postponed all their schedules and plans, turning their gazes to the high heavens.
"That is..."
"That is the spark, and the soul."
In the Star Temple, the Dragon Girl's almost imperceptible murmur was heard by the Pope. Eagle answered the other's question, then looked at this inheritor with pity as she fainted. He already knew what choice the warrior at the other end of time and space had ultimately made.
A heavy, arrogant choice, bearing the lives and souls of billions.
This choice, the founding Emperor of the Central Empire, Akhar Aliyev, dared not make. The Star Sage, Cynthia Morningstar, dared not make. Even the Sage, the one who had devised all this, did not decisively decide the final outcome, but irresponsibly left everything to later generations.
They all hesitated.
But Joshua did not.
The Star River sped through the void at the speed of thought. The crimson flame dragged a long ribbon of light across the multiverse, allowing countless worlds to witness this magnificent scene, incomparable even to the light mist brought by the Great Magic Tide.
Amidst this flame, the man controlling the Star River's course saw his own destined past and future.
Joshua van Radcliffe. The turning point in this man's fate was in the cold winter of the year 831 of the Falling Stars Era. His father, who held the inheritance, died in the Sealed Land. Ignorant of this, he could only drag his heavily wounded body from the war back to Moldavia alone. Burning with rage, enduring the invasion of the Black Tide and attacks from betrayers, after a bitter struggle, he finally reclaimed his territory with his remaining family knights.
The originally cheerful man became cold and silent due to the deaths of his father and the old steward. The betrayal of his own uncle further heightened his vigilance. In the summer of the following year, the destined Joshua finally obtained a vague inheritance in the family cemetery, breaking through to the Gold Realm.
Then, wielding a black giant axe, he killed several Gold-rank Magical Beasts, even destroying the mountains they inhabited, and his reputation soared. The name 'Joshua the Mountain Crusher' spread across the surrounding territories. The Moldavia Territory began to develop rapidly, but what followed was the Calamity of Mad Dragons.
This was another arduous battle. Facing a Mad Dragon army led by an entire White Dragon nest, even the combined resistance of the Four Northern Territories was nearly powerless. The only way was to forcefully break into the dragon nest and kill the two leading White Dragon chieftains. The man, tempered by countless battles against Wild Gods, naturally became the leader of this assault squad. After a bitter struggle paved with flesh and blood, they finally defeated the enemy and quelled this dragon calamity.
But the territory was almost half destroyed, and centuries of family development were nearly reset to zero.
Covered in wounds, lost and at a loss (bù zhī suǒ cuò), the man thus welcomed the Great Magic Tide amidst the gradually repaired ruins.
He broke through to the Ultimate-rank. The Pope abdicated. The Great Age of Exploration. The Central Black Forest turmoil. The Emperor's death. The Imperial Civil War. As if by fate, with every change of era, the man would face a brutal and bloody battle: against cultists, against Ultimate-rank Magical Beasts, against rebels and the Imperial Army. And time and again, he overcame powerful enemies, bathing in blood to seize victory.
Battle did not break him, but the unending tribulations and gradually accumulating internal injuries finally did. Draining his life and soul time and again left this warrior with little time left.
Before his death, he stared at the inheritance orb in his hand, which only glowed faintly without any reaction, and then gave a complex smile to his Divine Mechanism Steward.
"The Radcliffe Family has burned out."
He said softly in a hoarse voice. "Find the next inheritor."
A few days later, in the Imperial Northern Lands, within the Moldavia Territory, the news that the current head of the Radcliffe Family, 'Joshua the Fire-Bathed', was seeking someone to inherit the 'Inheritance', spread throughout the entire Empire.
That was how it should have been.
Gripping the Dragon-Hunting Sword Lance tightly, the warrior closed his eyes. When he opened them again, it was another illusion.
The Dragon Girl, fleeing in all directions during the apocalypse, finally reached a dead end. Facing the encirclement of an endless army of undead, a glimmer of understanding rose in her heart.
What was the use of continuing like this? Death was inescapable. Even if she escaped this time by relying on her robe, when her lifespan was exhausted, she would still become an undead.
But what meaning would such a life have? Nothing changed, nothing accomplished. Simply running away was just wasting the time fate had given her.
So, the awakened girl took out all the Holy Stone Seeds she had and set off the biggest 'fireworks' in this world. The price was that several square kilometers were leveled, the ground sank tens of meters, and the girl herself was flung away by the blast wave. Although protected by her robe, she fell unconscious.
People from the Four Holy Cities found the unconscious girl. She was very well-known among the survivors for being pursued by the Shadow of the Dead. The girl was received by the city lord, an old man whose entire body was modified by machines and magical devices. From him, she learned of the current difficulties of the Four Holy Cities.
In the Tomb of the Sage, there were countless Heroic Spirits. If they could have the help of these unhatched Heroic Spirits, they could hold off the endless army of the Shadow of the Dead for a long time. During this time, they could send an elite squad to the Gaitar Plateau to destroy the origin of the Shadows of the Dead.
"But awakening these sleeping Heroic Spirits requires too much energy."
The old man sighed. The terrifying energy demand was such that even squeezing his old bones dry wouldn't gather a fraction of it. It was an amount enough to make survivors despair.
"Energy?" The girl, with a strange expression, touched her peculiar long robe, which never seemed to lack for energy, and murmured softly, "I have plenty of that."
So, a few days later, the army of Heroic Spirits and the army of the Shadow of the Dead launched their first direct war in twenty-seven years on the plains below the Gaitar Plateau. And the Dragon Girl unexpectedly met the emperor from a thousand years ago.
"That is the teacher's robe..."
Looking at the girl who was seventy to eighty percent similar to the Star Sage, the old knight, unsure if this was fate or coincidence, put down his spear, losing all will to fight. With a faint loneliness, the old man told the girl a warm story from a thousand years ago, and the cruel truth behind all the facts.
And perhaps some mistakes occurred, such as the unbearable weight of everything making it impossible to believe or choose. In the end, the world was still not saved.
One hundred and three thousand survivors lived in the dim light of the First Flame, patiently waiting for the future, for 'certain people' in destiny to come and give them the salvation they had awaited for a thousand years.
That was how it should have been.
Joshua opened his eyes.
He had arrived at the Mycroft World.
The flame, carrying an endless golden stream of light, surged into this world. The sacred formation expanded, merging into the faintly glowing surface of the world. The warrior knew it was all over. All the souls of a world over a thousand years would completely merge into the gradually dying Mycroft Continent, becoming part of its life cycle. And the souls of the original one hundred and three thousand sinners, along with the flame born from a world's combustion, would sink into the deepest Fusion Core of the continent, extending its lifespan.
He could see Mycroft's light membrane gradually shift from dim to bright. He could see the world's surface, once full of cracks, begin to rapidly heal every wound.
With the extinguishing of one star, another dim star regained its former radiance.
In this silence, the world, once on the verge of death, was thus revitalized, able to endure for several more millennia.
Joshua watched all this, his heart calm, without a ripple.
At that moment, a voice whispered something to this man who had changed everything.
And the warrior replied indifferently, "Enough."
He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps communicating with some entity. He shook his head and said, "Everything is over."
"The number one hundred and three thousand was always an approximation. And of those still alive now, not one is a coward. The betrayers have paid the price. Those who remain alive should continue to live."
"I have fulfilled one promise. Now I must fulfill another."
In Joshua's hand, there was still a faint, almost extinguished remnant of flame, within which seemed to sleep countless thousands. He said softly, "I said I could not stand by and watch, could not refuse to help... That was my promise."
He suddenly laughed. "And you will help me, won't you, Sage?"
"Of course."
An existence formed by the fusion of four colors of light replied calmly, in a voice only Joshua could hear. "Since this is your choice."
"Then of course I will help you, my inheritor."
Thus, the experts of the Mycroft Continent witnessed another scene.
Not long after the Flame Star River disappeared, a crimson light lit up again in the dome of the sky.
And in the void, the warrior stood upon the world's light membrane. He surveyed the realms and found his target.
It was a world full of ashes, completely devoured by famine. There, cold winds encircled the oceans, freezing the seawater. There, dust filled the heavens, suffocating all things.
Holding the flame, Joshua reached out his hand toward this world, which had been nearing its end for a long time, with only a last ember remaining.
"I will fight against all chaos."
His arm expanded.
"I will save all the innocent and punish all evil."
A metallic light was released.
A six-armed giant, thousands, tens of thousands of miles tall, so vast it was unimaginable, stood in the void. The most intense, most unwavering will surged from the depths of his soul, forming the flesh and bones of this giant. Legendary power, surpassing all limits, surged around the giant's body.
"I am Joshua van Radcliffe."
The light of the flame gradually ignited.
"I will bear everything, save everything, punish everything."
Ceramic-like cracks spread across the giant's body.
"This is my oath."
The Ash Giant, covered in sparks, began to move.
The Soulflame King opened his lava-like eyes.
Four cities, countless remaining settlements, and thousands upon thousands of survivors flashed within the flame in the Ash Giant's hand. Then, as the warrior's body expanded, so did the flame. Finally, the flame solidified into a physical form shrouded in light, like a small continent, embraced in the warrior's arms.
The giant's six arms bore this almost impossible burden. He 'walked' toward the ash-filled world, step by step, without a tremor. Four-colored light illuminated his path, becoming the power that supported him.
Finally, he arrived at this world. Before the world named Carlis, he raised the last remnant of a world in his hand, along with its final survivors, and gently 'placed' them inside.
A fragment of a continent, accompanied by the power of the flame, descended upon this world of ashes.
A gentle light pierced the overcast sky, dispelling all shadows and darkness.
The decayed, dry wind gradually gained warmth. The dead, stagnant earth regained life. Under the light of this radiance, green grass spread across the land. On long-dried old trees, new buds blossomed. The red sparks flying everywhere swept across the entire world, covering everything—plains, valleys, rotting swamps, and frozen oceans—leaving nothing untouched.
The flame burned the chaos, returning the world to order, reviving the barren world. This was the power of the World Guardian, the [Soulflame King].
But this time, the flame was enough. Even if it could only burn for a few decades, the future was a matter for the future.
For now, everything had reached a not entirely perfect conclusion.