Chapter 1293 — How to Destroy It
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 5
The disordered winds blew in from the distant Phantom Lands, sweeping up the fine grey-white sand and raising a haze of dust among the collapsed and toppled altars and thrones. Within that haze, countless phantoms of ancient things seemed to rise and sink, only to scatter and vanish with the next gust. The goddess upon the throne watched those visions surfacing now and then in the dust, calm and unblinking, and after a long while a voice—majestic, yet somehow tinged with sorrow—echoed between heaven and earth: "Yes, great adventurer, we have all lingered in this place too long. So many things have grown blurred with time—even what we once treasured and cared for... all of it has scattered like dust in the wind."
Wilder's voice carried open astonishment: "...My lady, even you feel sorrow at the passage of time and the fading of things?"
"Gods have human nature too—gods have the most human nature of all, great adventurer," the Lady of Night's voice seemed to carry a hint of a smile. "Those who have lost their human nature either have already fallen into madness, or will sooner or later stride into their end."
"...And that 'thing' which prowls and assails the space around your throne?" asked the book upon the stone pillar. "Does it have human nature as well?"
This time, the voice from the throne fell silent for a long while, until the next gust of sand arose and a voice came down from the throne: "Of course it has its own human nature, and in a sense, its human nature is pure and unstained by any impurity."
"...Is that so. I had thought that thing lacked even the capacity for thought," the great adventurer's voice sounded astonished. "So it actually still possesses human nature..."
"Ah, you are right, great adventurer—it truly lacks even the capacity for thought..." The towering figure upon the throne sighed softly. As she spoke, she slowly rose, and a staff wrought of black and white had somehow appeared in her hand. She gazed toward the shadowed region at the desert's edge that resembled the silhouette of a city, and stepped down from the altar. "A newborn infant cannot think either, yet the purest human nature in the world exists before the infant's first cry..."
The desert winds began to howl. In the distance, within the sharply black-and-white silhouette of the city, an indescribable and horrific mass—formed of countless proliferating limbs and mutated flesh—was raising its body out of the darkness, floating above the city like a gigantic sun of flesh, and beginning to drift slowly toward the throne altar. From that mass of flesh came a shrill and grating sound, as though countless shouts, countless screams, and a great many low murmurs were blended into one; and wherever its fleshy tendrils spread, the grey-white desert was swiftly stained with a maddening black-red blight, the pure sand transformed in an instant into foul clots of mire.
But the next second, an invisible force spread outward from the direction of the throne, and the corruption at the desert's edge was instantly checked. The towering figure who had risen from the throne strode toward the distance, and the grey-white fissures that crept and wandered across her garments flowed like water and gathered at the tip of the staff in her hand, as though commanding the light and shadow of the entire world.
"'The infant' is about to cry again—it needs a bit of 'affection' from its elder," a majestic and languid female voice rang out between heaven and earth. "Great adventurer, remember to keep your focus on the star chart. Do not listen to or look at the commotion coming from the 'Border.'"
"Ah, this is absolutely the most terrifying infant in the world... and the most terrifying scene of domestic violence," the archaic tome upon the stone pillar heaved a sigh. "Very well, I understand. Do take care."
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