Chapter 68: The Carvings on the Heavenly Pillar
“You even have this feature?”
Ji Jue and An Ran crouched on Horsey, creeping stealthily toward the bell tower. Luckily, there were plenty of buildings in the area, so no one noticed them immediately. The massive bell tower also blocked many lines of sight, giving them space to approach quietly.
“Or what, you expect me to use these old arms and legs of mine to deal with that thing for you?” the ball boasted as it spun. “I’m a technical tool, alright?”
The ball trembled and a faint blue light spread across them, instantly absorbing all the sweeping spirit fluctuations around.
“Speed it up! I’ve already blocked any forms of detection from the bell tower and temporarily disguised you. You’re in stealth mode, kid!”
The ball whistled like a human. Ji Jue scratched his head, unable to help it. This was getting ridiculous. Why did the thing affected by his ability talk more and more outrageously, and even start to take advantage of him?
Pinching his chin, Ji Jue felt a flicker of alarm. Could it be that he was actually developing a split personality?
“Is it possible that... as a Divine Creation, I really do have my own consciousness?”
Question marks sprouted from Ji Jue’s forehead. “But how are you so good at lockpicking and sneaking around? How could Professor Ye have installed such sneaky, underhanded skills in you... Ooooh!!!!”
Before he could finish, realization struck him. He quickly pretended he hadn’t asked anything.
Sneaky and underhanded? This was called cleverly overcoming obstacles! This was the demeanor of a master, the vision of a professor! If the mountain won’t come to me, I’ll go to the mountain[1]!
So it seemed that Professor Ye, in her youth, also knew how to gather wisdom, pool ideas, and leverage collective effort! Such an exceptional tradition and sect lineage, of course it had to continue through Ji Jue!
So, Ji Jue quieted down, while Horsey muffled its engine sounds. They tiptoed in a wide circle. Once they confirmed no one was watching, they cautiously pressed against the wall.
The devil's work ball leapt from Ji Jue’s hand. The moment it swept across the wall, a tiny gap appeared. As Horsey slipped through, the gap closed instantly, leaving no trace nor a speck of dust.
Ji Jue was now inside the bell tower. He couldn’t help but inhale deeply. Looking up, he saw several massive golems, standing silently amid the dust, just like the guards outside. There were at least four of them!
Unfortunately, years of neglect had taken their toll. Cracks and gaps riddled most of the golems, and some had nearly fallen apart, unable to function.
The moment two of them detected the intruders, the gem-like eyes beneath their fractured masks glowed red, sweeping a beam across Ji Jue and his companions. All it detected, however, was the identification circuit cleverly disguised by the devil's work ball.
“Drop your weapon. They’re friendly.”
“Whew...” Ji Jue finally exhaled, feeling sweat prickling down his back.
He glanced at An Ran, who shook his head. “There’s no one alive here.”
The bell tower covered a huge area, but the interior was surprisingly sparse. The entire first floor was stacked with all sorts of things, like rotten and unusable tables, chairs, stools, or miscellaneous household tools. There was even an old-fashioned manual weeder, a small wooden horse with peeling paint, a fully built playground slide, and dolls that girls would have loved, now covered in mold. There was even armor sized for children that was scratched and worn. It was basically an entire abandoned children’s playground.
“Is this the right place?”
“Upstairs.” The devil's work ball sounded slightly regretful, lamenting the fact that it hadn’t been programmed with an eye-roll function.
Ji Jue looked up at the staircase snaking along the tower. Then he turned back, signaled Horsey, and climbed up, pointing the way.
Horsey grumpily stayed silent for a long moment. If Ji Jue hadn’t commanded it to be quiet, it probably would have let out a couple of very unpleasant honks. So it just chugged along, hauling the two boys up as fast as it could.
At last, just before its frame gave out from the strain, they reached the entrance.
But looking at the ordinary door, barely ajar, Ji Jue felt a chill in his heart. This trip was probably going to be a bust. After all, a doorway with no locks, no security measures, and barely even closed, did not look like Mercury’s workshop at all.
Carefully, he used a rod to push open a door that hadn’t moved in who knows how many years.
With a sharp scraping sound, followed by a dull thud, the door panel collapsed inward, and a faint breeze stirred up the dust that had settled over the floor. After centuries, the visitors who had finally arrived were met with nothing but utter ruin.
Bookshelves had collapsed, scrolls lay scattered and decayed, their writing swallowed by mold, no longer legible. Around them, spirit circuits had failed, runes blurred, and the totems of the Supreme Benevolence had vanished.
A massive cauldron lay cracked, instruments rusted through, furnaces long extinguished...
Ji Jue let out a sigh, the last bit of hope in his chest finally dying.
Damn it.
This was indeed Mercury’s workshop, but it had long since been completely ruined. He could tell without a doubt that this wasn’t the result of damage over the past four hundred years. This place had been abandoned more than four centuries ago.
Anything that could be moved had likely already been taken. The things left behind, impossible to move, had deteriorated beyond use over the centuries. As for Mercury’s creations and achievements, there wasn’t even a shred left, let alone any kind of matrix.
He exhaled, about to speak, when suddenly he felt his sleeve tugged. An Ran, pale and trembling, was cowering behind him.
“Ji Jue, something’s wrong.” In a quiet voice, he added, “There’s a ghost.”
“A what?”
Ji Jue was baffled but followed the direction An Ran pointed. Then, as if plunged into an ice cellar, he nearly blurted out a curse.
There really was a ghost!
An Ran was pointing toward the enormous stained-glass window of the clock tower, at a half-rotted pane long since decayed. In the scorching sunlight, a faint, blurry outline appeared. It seemed that the figure had her back turned to Ji Jue.
The figure was dressed in a pure white lady’s gown, as if drifting in the wind, with long hair hanging so low it nearly brushed the ground. A hint of her delicate and alluring profile could be seen, her expression distant as she gazed far away.
Ji Jue could barely breathe.
It was Mercury! The Sage, Mercury!
But there was nothing like the cold, teasing glance he had expected, nor any casual gesture that could have turned the intruders and even the scooter to dust. Instead, she remained completely motionless.
No matter how politely Ji Jue greeted or probed, she did not react at all. She was like a phantom. Strictly speaking, she was hardly any different from a phantom.
It was the lingering trace of the Sage’s consciousness, etched into time itself. Even if only for an instant, it was a mark that eternity could never erase.
Ji Jue summoned his courage and leaned closer, following her gaze in the distance, and saw the massive, solemn pillar at the horizon, standing as if it held the sky and the earth itself.
The axis of the world rested here; the center of heaven and earth aligned with this colossal pillar.
Just looking upon it made him feel an overwhelming sense of majesty and oppression, as if the very air had thickened. Breathing felt impossible, and he was filled with the urge to bow, to kneel, to prostrate himself in reverence.
But as Ji Jue observed more carefully, he realized her gaze was not fixed on the pillar itself. Instead, it was cast downward, toward the far side of the clock tower. There stood a magnificently adorned cathedral.
Ignoring the constant rumbling and tremors from the square, Ji Jue could faintly hear intermittent music. A busy orchestra played cheerful melodies, while amid the bustling traffic, smiling people entered one after another, offering flowers and blessings.
If the so-called historians hadn’t deceived him, the floating white veils and flocks of birds gathering above suggested a wedding.
As the first horn sounded, all the guests bore witness. The second horn sounded, and the elder officiated the ceremony. At the third horn, the couple, amid applause and blessings, became husband and wife.
But... the third call would never come.
Because what swept across the entire rift realm was the echo of heaven and earth collapsing. The ground trembled, the sky shattered, mountains surged, the city quaked...
Ji Jue saw it again: on the colossal pillar, the axis of the world, appeared a horrific rift!
A grand mark emerged from atop the towering spire, vanishing in an instant. It was intricate and austere, as if it blanketed everything and reached everywhere. It was a mark of the Supreme Benevolence far beyond Ji Jue’s comprehension.
It was the Origin! And now, the Origin was collapsing.
A grand destruction began; the pillar shattered, splitting in half. Yet it did not fall to the earth. Countless fragments hovered in midair, radiating a terrifying brilliance that filled the entire rift realm before surging and erupting!
The stars lost their paths once more, and the blazing sun dimmed to nothing. An endless rain of fire descended from the sky and crashed down, stirring waves and devastation.
After a long pause, the devil's work ball said, “Didn’t you see it with your own eyes? The collapse of the Celestial Pillar.”
1. “If the mountain won’t come to me, I’ll go to the mountain” means that when external circumstances cannot be changed and the goal won’t come to you, you take the initiative to adapt to the situation in order to solve the problem and achieve your objective. It reflects a flexible, proactive mindset, often used to describe the wisdom of adapting when circumstances don’t shift in your favor. ☜
