pjbooks Chapter 1011 The Traces Disappear
Chapter 1011 The Traces Disappear
Then, a massive amount of information flooded into Lin Qiye's mind like a burst dam. It wasn't fragments, images, or sounds, but a comprehensive, three-dimensional inheritance imbued with warmth and emotion.
He witnessed the birth of the candle. In a void where even the concept of "darkness" did not exist, a ray of light suddenly shone. The initial light was soft, carrying the curiosity and bewilderment of a newborn life. It wandered in the void for countless eons, finally coalescing into its first thought during one of those wanderings—"I am here." The moment this thought took shape, the void shattered, the clear and the turbid separated, time began to flow, space began to expand, and the first cornerstone of all the heavens and myriad realms was thus laid.
He witnessed the full glory of the candle. Countless realms, illuminated by his light, gave birth to beings who took him as their sole faith, inscribing his name on the oldest altars and commemorating his kindness with the most devout rituals. He personally shaped the first supreme race, selflessly sharing his power with them, teaching them to utilize primal energy, construct laws, and create worlds. He thought himself a father, and they thought themselves children—at least, that's what they thought at that time.
He saw the seeds of betrayal. The supreme races he had created with his own hands began to secretly compare themselves—why was his power always greater than theirs? Why did he always occupy the highest throne? Why did all the resources, all the laws, and all the authority of the myriad realms have to be distributed by him before they belonged to them? They no longer called him Father, but instead addressed him as "First Supreme"—from the very act of addressing him, they had begun to move him from the position of "family" to that of "rival." But Candle did not notice this change, because he had lived for too long, so long that he had lost his sense of time. To him, those children had only recently begun to distance themselves from him, and that "recent" period on the time scale was already a hundred epochs in.
Finally, he witnessed the fall of the Candle. A clear voice came from the other end of the chains of light—"Your life for the peace of all realms, a worthwhile trade." The Candle did not refute, did not roar, and did not even show anger. He simply looked with an extremely calm, extremely weary gaze at the faces that had once knelt before him and called him "Father," and then slowly closed his eyes. His body was pierced by thirty-six thousand chains of light, dragged from his throne, and pulled towards the deep blue void rift. In the final moment before being completely dragged into the rift, without anyone noticing, he flicked his last drop of blood towards this wasteland.
He wasn't trying to sow the seeds of revenge.
He simply didn't want to disappear without a trace. To live, to continue living in some way, even if only a single drop of blood remained, even if that drop of blood might only sprout after endless ages—that was still living.
Lin Qiye's fingers slowly slid off the crystal, hanging at his sides, the warm golden glow still lingering on his fingertips. He stood there in silence for a long time, long enough that the light patterns on the dark golden ground beneath his feet began to pulsate again, long enough that the inheritance crystal slowly returned to its original position, its light receding back to its colorless and transparent state.
Then he slowly raised his head, the faint golden light deep in his pupils completely receding, replaced by an extremely profound tranquility. That tranquility was no longer the bland, detached silence of before, but a more weighty tranquility, carrying information and missions that had traversed countless years.
His voice slowly echoed in the empty space of inheritance, not loud, but it resonated gently in the dark golden light patterns throughout the space.
"You are him, but you are not him. He is dead, and I am still alive. I will not bear the consequences of his actions. But those traitors' knives—if one day they dare to put them to my throat—"
He didn't finish speaking.
In the inheritance space, all the dark golden light patterns lit up at the same moment, as bright as hundreds of suns exploding simultaneously. The transparent inheritance crystal trembled violently in the extreme light, emitting a high-frequency resonance that was inaudible to the human ear but perceptible to the soul—it was not fear, not a warning, but a response that transcended endless ages, almost a trembling one.
Lin Qiye stood in that dark golden space for a long time.
So long that the violent light patterns beneath his feet subsided into silence, so long that the transparent inheritance crystal calmed down from its tremors and resumed its silent rotation. The golden light still lingered on his fingertips, a temperature that wasn't hot, but rather carried a reassuring warmth, like a candle leaving the world with a final bit of kindness in its final moments.
The charred mark left by the core of the seventh array had completely changed—it was no longer a scorch mark or a scar, but an exquisite dark gold emblem, perfectly imprinted in the center of his palm. The emblem's outline consisted of two curved horns, crossing and guarding a round sun, with a slightly closed eye at the center of the sun. That eye was closed at the moment, but he could sense that it could open at any time if he wished.
He looked down at the emblem on his palm, remained silent for a moment, and then gently covered it with his other hand.
"I won't bear the consequences of your actions for you." He repeated what he had just said, his voice low and calm, "But those traitors—if they really dare to put their knives to my throat—I will let them know that you weren't the only one they failed to eliminate back then."
As soon as he finished speaking, the dark golden patterns in the inheritance space lit up in unison, as if some ancient will had heard a promise in his words. Even though that promise had obvious reservations and conditions, it was enough to give that consciousness, which had dissipated for more than half an era, a sliver of solace before it completely returned to nothingness.
Then, the entire space began to collapse.
It wasn't a violent collapse, but rather an orderly, deliberate disintegration, as if it had completed its mission. The dark gold material covering the walls and dome peeled away layer by layer like fading murals, revealing the original skeletal structure of the ancient beast beneath. The flowing light patterns faded more and more as they peeled away, like a candle burning to its last flame, silently extinguishing in its final glimmer.
The transparent inheritance crystal was also disintegrating. Countless fine cracks appeared on its surface, but no light emanated from them; only traces of time and weathering remained. It slowly sank in front of Lin Qiye, landing in his outstretched palm, then transformed into a handful of fine, dark golden powder, silently leaking through his fingers and falling to the ground beneath his feet, merging with the peeling dark golden matter.
Lin Qiye knew that the last trace of the candle in this world had completely vanished.