Read Novel Full Chapter 1105 - 1106: Twelve Years To The End
Chapter 1105: Chapter 1106: Twelve Years To The End
We are all loved by someone.
And in turn, we love someone.
Those without love are perhaps the freest of all, yet theirs is the freedom of the lost.
Perhaps the most important thing Damon had gained was love. He was surrounded by it now. There were those who loved him... and those he himself loved.
They had become his strength just as he had become theirs.
Yet love was terrible.
With it, we suffer.
Without it, we suffer.
If suffering is inevitable, then why not love and suffer anyway?
Mugu loved with all his heart... and he paid for it. The world itself suffered for it, forever changed by the weight of his love.
Lazarak loved as well. He loved his brother, his creator, and the world he lived in... and for them, he died.
Even Ashcroft loved.
And because he loved, he learned to fear love itself.
In the end, he stood alone, leaving behind nothing but a legacy of fear.
Love or solitude...
The ending remained the same.
Suffering would always follow.
The only difference was whether one suffered with warmth in their heart... or with emptiness.
Damon rested a hand atop his daughter’s head, gently stroking her hair while she lay comfortably against his lap.
His eyes were distant.
Vacant.
Lost somewhere far beyond the road ahead.
Then suddenly—
His daughter tugged sharply on his long dark hair, pulling him back from his thoughts as the silhouette of a distant city appeared on the horizon.
"Daddy, what are you thinking about?" she asked, puffing out her tiny cheeks.
Damon smiled faintly and reached down, pinching them gently.
"I was just thinking my Ranar is the cutest girl in the world."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, cheeks still puffed.
"If I’m the cutest, then why were you staring over there and not at me?"
Damon sighed.
"Has anyone ever told you you’re way too smart for your age..."
He knew she wouldn’t let the matter go.
Still... there was something he had always wondered.
"Ehm... haven’t you ever been curious about your mother?"
It was a dangerous question.
Most children would ask eventually.
Instead, she simply shook her head.
"I already know where mommy is."
Her answer made his heart tighten.
Then she placed a small hand against her chest.
"Eva said mommy is here. And that she’s always watching me."
For a moment Damon said nothing.
He instinctively glanced toward Evangeline riding nearby.
Then the little girl leaned closer and whispered into his ear.
"But she’s actually in the house tomb... you go there sometimes and just stare like this."
She clenched her tiny fist, perfectly imitating him.
A bittersweet smile formed on his face.
Why was he even bringing this up?
She had never once asked about her mother.
Perhaps it was because after obtaining the Heaven Spear... he had found himself unable to stop thinking about that day.
The day Morticai killed Wendy.
Ranar lowered her head.
"It’s okay daddy... I won’t ask if it hurts."
She touched her chest softly.
"Aunty Luna says asking questions can make adults hurt here."
For the first time, Damon realized something.
She was comforting him.
A three year old child...
Comforting him.
He let out a quiet laugh and rubbed her head.
"You really aren’t a normal girl... you definitely didn’t get that from me."
He smiled faintly.
"I was never considerate..."
His gaze softened.
"That sounds more like something Wendy would do..."
He paused.
"That was your mother’s name."
Immediately her golden eyes lit up with curiosity.
The Holy City now stood only a short distance ahead.
Damon adjusted his grip on her as they rode.
"We’re almost there..."
He looked ahead quietly.
"If you want... I can tell you about her."
A small silence followed.
Then he whispered.
"She would have loved you very much."
Ranar tilted her head slightly.
"Did you love mommy a lot?"
Damon stared ahead for several seconds.
Then tightened his hold around her.
"Yes..."
His voice grew quieter.
"Yes... I do."
*******
Flames rose through ruined buildings.
Massive behemoths moved in the distance, their colossal forms tearing apart what little remained of the battlefield.
Standing amidst the devastation was a man with golden hair and a blazing phoenix mark upon his forehead.
Around him, space itself had fractured.
The void trembled from the violence of battle, constantly breaking and stitching itself back together.
"These insects of the lower realms are truly insufferable..."
His voice carried irritation.
"Even more so than I remember."
"Hehehe..."
An old man wearing flowing robes adorned with constellations laughed excitedly while watching the destruction.
"The more we kill, the more come crawling out."
His eyes gleamed with madness.
"How exciting."
This was Orbitus.
"It seems attempting to bring back fellow Daoist Ythar proved fruitless."
The speaker emerged slowly. Zhang Dafei the cultivator.
Behind him
A little girl... though her increasingly inhuman appearance made it difficult to still call her one.
This was Ittorath.
"His return was less helpful than expected. At best, it merely slowed those attempting to come here. It solved nothing regarding those already present."
"The people of Lysithara are resilient."
He turned toward the battlefield.
"Even corruption failed to fully bend them. If anything..."
His expression darkened.
"They hate us even more for bringing corruption upon them."
His gaze shifted toward a towering crystalline structure in the distance.
The tower itself had suffered catastrophic damage.
"The tower has been heavily damaged..."
He narrowed his eyes.
"But eventually it can still function."
"We simply need to restore enough of its systems."
Morticai crossed his arms.
"And the Unknown God?"
"Do the promises still stand?"
A new voice answered.
"Since when has the God of the Abyss ever failed to keep a promise?" Zhang Dafei whispered.
Silence lingered for several moments.
Then Ittorath finally spoke.
"Twelve years."
His voice carried unusual gravity.
"In Twelve years... it all ends."
"The final countdown has begun."
His gaze turned distant.
"I have finally surmised what form the Pillar of Conflict has taken."
Morticai frowned.
"What form?"
Silence.
Then Ittorath whispered.
"The most primitive weapon of war."
Everyone grew quiet.
Then suddenly Orbitus muttered under his breath.
"A club..."
All eyes turned toward him.
"It would be a club."
His voice became certain.
"The earliest weapon of war known to mortals."
He smiled.
"All weapons came after it."
Ittorath nodded.
"Yes."
"That is correct."
"The Pillar of Conflict..."
He paused.
"...is a club."
Morticai slowly rubbed his temples.
"By Obamion..."
He exhaled heavily.
"How exactly are we supposed to find a club..."
He looked toward the burning world around them.
"...in this wretched world?"