Chapter 1665: 557. Felix’s Book: The Wrath of the ‘Khan’_4
The King of Bone Biting shrugged.
However, there was no more regret and loss in his voice; instead, he spoke casually:
“I lost the fourth Black Disaster, which I initiated. It’s a pity— it was the last war the wolf people civilization could possibly defeat the world with. I lost, and I feel it’s the punishment fate brought to me for failing my duty.
But that’s not something too hard to accept. You know, I should have been buried with the Golden Age, but I got the chance to live again. Although I only lived for a dozen years, I was truly happy!
I followed my heart’s choice and cheerfully completed the glorious yet short life that belonged to the King of Bone Biting. That feeling was truly fantastic! It was absolutely a million times better than being a security chief for hundreds of years during the Golden Age!
Once you look past the wins and losses, it doesn’t matter much anymore. After all, for a person, happiness is what’s most important.
In the final moments of my life, I returned to the place where the wolf people first emerged with my most loyal Forbidden Guards.
You may not know, but the first wolf person was born in the underground biological hall of the Swamp Forbidden Zone. There, it is our true Origin Land, and it is the shared home of all wolf people.
Believe it or not, but the truth is, after my failure, I never intended to rely on the power of the Swamp Forbidden Area to make a comeback. I just wanted to close the ecological zone and have the Forbidden Guards I trained restart our civilization there. I wanted to return our homeland to the wolf people of this era.
They have no future staying in the Dark Mountain Range!
This land is cursed. They must return to their original homeland to possibly develop a higher civilization.
It’s regrettable that I’ve already registered as a security chief in the Eden District, which prevents me from gaining control over the Swamp Forbidden Area. So in my final moments of loss and prayers for my descendants, I closed my eyes on the visitor chair in the Land of Creation.
Just as the way I opened my eyes in this era.
Perhaps this is a kind of inevitable cycle of fate, as the Son of Creation eventually returns to the Land of Creation.
Waking up in a time that does not belong to me was a mistake. I should have left with my masters; fate played me like a dog because it enjoys watching tragedies.
But after I died, I discovered how generous my masters truly were.
They wrote some strange things into my genes and spirit to shape a perfect being. I can’t comprehend that information, but those things protected my soul from dispersing, allowing me to resist the Netherworld’s call.
Plah!
Ridiculous Netherworld!
The creator never had a place for the Netherworld in the destiny it created for this world!
They are the ones who attached themselves willingly, only worthy of being charity dogs to be fed in the material world. If the creator hadn’t accepted that precarious dimension and integrated it into their perfect blueprint, the so-called Netherworld would have been long gone.
Yet after the Golden Age ended, those dogs dared to rise and claim the creator’s great power, naming themselves the realm of death.
Plah!
Disgusting things. Only the Creator Engine is the place we, genuine Sons of Creation, should go to. Officer Murphy, you would also go there after misfortune, and fortunately, my name is already in the register there.
As long as you send me there, I can complete the final step of the Son of Creation, returning the power I gained to the great creator, offering a share of strength for the continuation of the perfect blueprint.
This is my final request, Officer Murphy.
Please return my soul home!
Let me rest in the beautiful resting place designed for us by the creator.
I don’t belong to this era, nor do I wish to be buried here.
This is my story— the story of a failure. And I actually don’t know much about the others from the Golden Age, but if you need further information, I will certainly answer seriously.”
“Then, regarding the truth of the Civilization Slate…”
Murphy glanced at Triss, who was feverishly recording the King of Bone Biting’s story, and chuckled silently before turning back to Felix and asking:
“Besides selecting a representative, what else is this thing useful for? Why does Dusk want to obtain it?”
“It’s not the slate they want; they just want the ‘mortal contract,’ commander.”
Felix replied earnestly:
“You’ve asked the right person; this field is within the work scope of the security commander of the Eden District, so I know a bit about it. Only those who have signed the mortal contract with the creator are qualified to approach ‘The Heart of the World’ without being attacked. To enter, it is said additional high-level permissions are required.
That is the eternal palace of the creator, which reportedly holds secrets of godhood and even the deepest mysteries of sub-space.
Dusk is a believer of sub-space, and they are the enemies of the creator. They dare not get close to that sacred place, and thus have to exploit loopholes.
Once the Civilization Slate is polluted, the mortal contract will be transferred to them, and they will not have to fear the divine punishment from the creator.
Yes, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.
Just a few years before the fourth Black Disaster, in the Grey Desert, I saw it with my own eyes.
That was the biggest mistake of my life, Officer Murphy.
Regarding Dusk, I must confess: the first Land of Creation they found was told to them by me…”