Read Novel Full Chapter 886: Chapter 479: The Sun Sets (Finale)
Chapter 886: Chapter 479: The Sun Sets (Finale)
The three-day celebration of Red Tide City has finally come to an end.
Yini, with the heavy “40th Anniversary Contributor Medal,” returned to her home in the capital under the twilight glow.
As she opened the door, the aroma of stewed meat greeted her.
From the kitchen came the gentle sound of a pot lid being moved, as John focused intently on the stove, wearing an apron.
“You’re back?” He turned his head and casually wiped the water from his hands, “Sit down, the water just boiled.”
As he spoke, his gaze involuntarily drifted to Yini’s chest.
The dark gold medal twinkled slightly under the indoor lights, impossible to ignore.
Yini noticed and a proud smile tugged at her lips.
She deliberately puffed out her chest, as if showcasing a recently completed project in a lab.
“Take a good look, Comrade John,” she said half-jokingly.
“Lord Louis personally put it on me. From today on, shouldn’t tasks like washing dishes and taking out the trash be your responsibility?”
John was momentarily stunned but then quickly caught on.
With exaggerated formality, he stood straight and saluted humorously by placing his hand over his chest.
“As you command, great Academician,” his tone overly solemn, though his eyes were filled with laughter, “It’s an honor to work under your leadership.”
Soon, laughter filled the living room.
The elderly mother came over holding a food tray, the father put down his newspaper, and the children fought for seats around the table.
Laughter rang out freely, with no need for anyone to lower their voices.
The magical radio on the wall played a lively waltz, its melody echoing through the room.
Suddenly, the music was abruptly cut off.
The speakers emitted not music but the voice of the Republic’s chief announcer.
The voice struggled to maintain composure but was clearly tremulous and hoarse.
“The Republic Committee, Central Truth Council, General Staff Headquarters…”
A brief pause.
“An emergency announcement to all citizens of the Republic…”
Everyone in the room froze.
“Our great Sun, the vanquisher of the old era, the destroyer of false gods, the Savior of the world, the founder, and father of the Republic… Comrade Louis Calvin…”
The announcer’s voice nearly broke here.
“Due to overwork, at 17:09 today, at Red Tide Castle… he completed his glorious life.”
The final words were squeezed to a whisper.
“The Sun… has set.”
John’s father was the first to react.
The elderly man, once a lifelong slave, suddenly knelt, his forehead hitting the cold floor with a heavy thud.
His whole body curled up, his shoulders trembling violently.
To him, one of the first slaves liberated by the Red Tide, Louis was God.
He lifted his trembling hands, looking at the palms scarred by chains.
“Louis… is gone… without him… if those monsters come back, who will protect our children?”
Mary stood by, tightly clutching the broken Peak Knight medal left by Old Smith.
Her eyes were horrifyingly empty, yet tears silently soaked her collar as if she no longer had the strength to cry.
John stood by the window, gazing at the towering chimneys and the connecting factories silently silhouetted against the night.
Those were what he and countless engineers built, inch by inch, following Louis’s blueprints.
He closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple rolling vigorously, yet he couldn’t utter a word.
Yini bowed her head, her fingers gently touching the medal on her chest.
The medal still retained warmth, residual from when Louis personally pinned it there days ago.
“Just three days ago…” her voice was almost inaudible, “on the reviewing stand, he looked so vibrant… he hasn’t seen us…”
For her generation, Louis was a mentor, a guide, the voice that always had answers amid the thickest fog.
An overwhelming sense of loneliness slowly pressed down.
From now on, when truth is once again shrouded in mist, there will no longer be that gentle voice to guide her forward.
The children didn’t understand any of this; they didn’t know what war looked like, or the taste of famine.
They only knew the broadcast said the greatest person in the world had left.
The youngest child stood by the window, watching the streetlights gradually go out, gently tugging Yini’s sleeve.
“Mom,” his voice was light.
“The broadcast said… the Sun has set, but… will it rise again tomorrow?”
The entire capital seemed paused by some invisible force.
On the street, a magic car racing halfway came to a stop in the middle of its track.
The driver leaned on the wheel, shoulders heaving, sobs pouring out unrestrainedly.
The car doors were open, but no passengers disembarked, no one urged; instead, they joined in the crying.
Further away, the factories’ roar ceased.
The deep, continuous hum that had lasted forty years ended entirely at this moment.
Thousands of workers in their uniforms left the workshops, standing in the shadow of the towering chimneys, not speaking, not directed.
They just knelt silently, their foreheads pressing against the cold ground, as if paying homage to a presence that could no longer respond.
The city didn’t erupt in chaos, yet it changed within the hour.
In the People’s Square, white flowers began to pile up.
Flowers were sent from every district, placed in the square’s center, at street corners, in front of every statue of Louis.
Layers of white flowers rose quickly, soon submerging the steps, like a silent but surging tide.
The crowd stood outside the sea of flowers, sobbing quietly, staring blankly at the expanse of white, motionless.
The kind of grief that has no outlet, it is real and heavy, like a stone pressing on the chest.
As if everyone had lost a loved one.
The broadcast continued.
The voice was much calmer than before; it was the last recording left by Louis.
“I am just a passerby who brought the flame to you; it has now been passed into your hands. Take it to work, to learn, to love this world…”
……
Crossing thousands of miles, reaching the northernmost tip of the continent, here is the end of the extreme cold.
And on this permafrost, where there are almost no traces of life, a black pyramid stands silently.
It is built of pitch-black stardust stone, the tower is not smooth, densely covered with primordial runes over every inch of its surface.
Dark red and ghostly purple light slowly flowed between the runes, this entire magic structure was in operation.
This building was not to commemorate anyone; its only purpose is isolation.
To isolate those original sins that, once out of control, are enough to send civilization back to barbarism.
When the capital’s broadcast announced to the world the passing of Louis Calvin, this old man was standing under the pyramid.
Louis’s cheeks, neck, and even the exposed back of his hands were already covered with twisting, spreading runes.
Those runes clung to his skin like living creatures, flashing with his breath.
This is the price; for forty years, he used himself as a seal to forcibly suppress, divide, and bind the seven deadly sins.
Each suppression was a silent exhaustion.
Now his breathing had become difficult, each inhale accompanied by an undeniable tremor.
The erosion by the original sins was close to critical; he was very clear he had reached the end of his life.
But he could not die a natural death outside.
Once the restraint was gone, the sealed powers would instantly retaliate against the world.
Sif and Emily, one on each side, held his hands tightly.
Time did not take away their beauty, only leaving marks at the corners of their eyes.
They did not cry out loud, but tears continuously fell, freezing into tiny crystals before reaching the icefield.
Though they knew long ago this day would come.
The children were kneeling in the snow.
They were no longer young, in their forties, bearing the responsibility of the Republic on their shoulders.
The eldest son, Orsus, bowed his head, hands clenched tightly, the eldest daughter, Orelia’s gaze never left her father’s face, full of reluctance…
Louis slowly raised his rune-covered hand, placing it on the children’s heads, just like he did many years ago, stroking each one.
Standing before the pyramid were several officials, whose faces were pale from the cold.
Even so, none of them spoke to leave first.
The youngest among them couldn’t hold back any longer.
He shivered in the cold wind, his voice tight with suppression: “My lord… please, give us one last piece of guidance.”
The wind and snow swept over the pyramid’s outer wall, the micro-glow of the runes flowed across the black stone surface.
Louis listened and chuckled softly: “You guys.”
He slowly turned around, looking at the familiar but no longer young faces.
“You’ve held your positions for so many years, do you still need this old man to teach you how to walk?”
The officials were momentarily speechless, someone lowered their head, others nodded subconsciously.
The smile on Louis’s face gradually faded.
“Then let me repeat for the last time what has been said countless times.” His voice wasn’t loud, yet it was exceptionally clear in the wind and snow.
“Remember, development is right, but you must always remember, all development is ultimately for the benefit of the majority, not for the private greed of a few elites.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
“At no time should people be treated as consumables to propel societal movement.”
The wind and snow howled, Louis’s tone became low and solemn: “If you forget this, if you let Red Tide become cold, rigid, and rotten…”
Louis turned his back on them, raising his hand in a casual gesture.
“I will walk out of this pyramid again, personally settle accounts with you. Go back, I can enter alone.”
When the words fell, he lingered no more, taking steps toward the pyramid.
Weir stood in place.
This now Peak Knight, with children and grandchildren, the old general, stepped forward with reddened eyes.
“Lord Louis,” his voice was hoarse, “let me stand guard outside.”
Louis’s steps paused.
He did not turn his head, only let out a long sigh in the wind and snow: “As you wish.”
The black stone pyramid’s door slowly opened with a deep rumbling.
Inside, there was no light.
It was an absolute darkness, as if capable of devouring everything.
Louis walked into that darkness alone.
The heavy door of black stone closed with it.
The rumbling echoed over the northern wilderness, not dissipating for a long time.
The runes on the tower body shone brilliantly for an instant, dark red and ghostly purple surging and intertwining, then quickly fell back into silence.
The snow and wind covered everything once more.
On the far northern wilderness, only endless snow remained.
And an aging knight standing like a statue in front of the pyramid’s door.