Mortal God-Slayer

"Furthermore, history has always been written by the victors. After succeeding, it is only natural that they could conceal history, leaving us to guess blindly like headless flies as we are doing now."

"If the king of this civilization truly achieved such a feat, it means there was an existence among them capable of rivaling the gods."

"Or perhaps the worshipped entity itself had an irreparable, massive flaw."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping along the frantic, crisscrossing scratches on the wall, a hint of mockery gradually creeping into his tone.

"Of course, judging from the desolate state of these ruins today, the price paid for this victory was likely the complete annihilation of their entire civilization. What a truly tragic victory."

These words immediately extinguished the sparks of awe that had just ignited in everyone's hearts regarding the mortal feat of god-slaying.

They had indeed won this confrontation, but they had also completely vanished in the long river of time.

Did they win, or did they lose?

There was no answer.

An Changqing slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, redirecting his inquiring gaze toward Chen Guan, who stood silently before the stone wall.

He was the only key to unlocking all these ancient mysteries.

"Chen Guan, do you mean that the emotions you just felt were the residual imprints of a certain ancestor in your bloodline?"

An Changqing asked with exceptional caution, acutely aware that Chen Guan's current state was highly unstable.

The aura of sorrow seeping from his very bones formed a stark contrast to his usual indifferent and aloof demeanor.

Facing the probing gazes cast from his surroundings, Chen Guan slowly shook his head.

The sharp, piercing pain in his mind had completely receded, but the hollow sensation of being forcibly torn apart deep within his soul became increasingly distinct.

Fortunately, having died so many times before, his resistance to pain had been significantly raised.

"I don't know if that was an ancestor."

He gave an ambiguous answer because he truly couldn't confirm the real source of that emotion. His previous words had been spoken involuntarily, as if they hadn't come from him at all.

He was merely a bystander forced into this, passively receiving this sorrow that had survived across eons.

"I just saw a choice, and the series of consequences triggered by that choice."

Chen Guan's voice was very soft, floating weightlessly.

"All I can feel is the pain of being forcibly severed."

"It's equivalent to digging out the most important part of your own body with your own hands, and then throwing it far away into the darkness."

The feeling he described was too specific and too cruel, yet his expression was so calm, causing everyone who heard these words to feel an unprompted palpitation.

"Dig out and throw away."

Su Yuehe repeatedly chewed over these words. Her eyes grew brighter as her thoughts raced, and finally, she suddenly raised her hand, pointing at the ruined face of the god on the wall.

"That's right, this is it."

"This feeling of severing by one's own hands perfectly matches the actions depicted in the mural."

"They once regarded the god as their everything, devoutly believing and worshipping."

"And then they uprooted this faith with their own hands, completely erasing the god's existence from their history."

"Isn't this the most absolute form of self-severance? To the point where even their own civilization was annihilated in the dust of history."

Su Yuehe's analysis plunged everyone present into a long silence.

They looked at the scratch-covered murals, and then at Chen Guan standing nearby.

The identity label of being a descendant of betrayers became incredibly solid in their minds.

Just what kind of profound despair must a civilization experience to harbor such monstrous hatred toward the faith they once worshipped.

And what unforgivable thing did that great existence, whom they personally pushed off the altar, actually do?

"This story isn't romantic at all."

Hong Yuan was finally suffocated by this heaviness. She curled her lips in irritation and muttered in a low voice.

"It feels much more tragic than all the tragedies we've ever seen combined."

Long Ao, who had been standing silently at the edge, spoke up at this moment.

"No matter what they experienced on this land in the past, we have our own path that we must walk."

He looked at Chen Guan. To be honest, he was quite worried about Chen Guan's condition.

If it were him suddenly becoming some descendant of a betrayer, he probably wouldn't feel good either, just like when he found out about his grandfather.

"Chen Guan, how are you feeling now?"

An Changqing immediately understood Long Ao's intention, which was also his core concern right now.

He took a step forward and asked in the gentlest tone possible.

"Can your body still hold up?"

"Which direction should we continue moving next?"

An Changqing's gentle and concerned inquiry rang out right on time, attempting to pull Chen Guan out of the bottomless ancient sorrow.

No matter what happened thousands of years ago, today, he is only Chen Guan.

His friend.

Everyone in the team lightened their breathing, and the flowing faint blue light on Yin Chen's shield also grew dim at this moment.

Hong Yuan took the giant axe off her shoulder and rested the blade on the ground. Crossing her hands on top of the handle, she assumed a guarded stance ready to charge at any moment, her anxious eyes never leaving Chen Guan for a second.

Su Yuehe's fingers tightly gripped the hem of her clothes, her heart torn back and forth by two completely different emotions.

On one hand, she was thrilled that her deduction was verified, meaning she was one step closer to touching the historical truth. On the other hand, the pain Chen Guan was enduring right now made her feel waves of heart-wrenching unease.

"I'm fine."

Chen Guan finally responded, his voice clearer than before but still carrying a bit of hoarse exhaustion.

He slowly lowered the hand leaning against the stone wall and slowly straightened his tired body.

The sharp, head-splitting pain had receded, but a massive emptiness of having his soul hollowed out weighed even heavier on his mind.

On that blurred face of the god covered in scratches, he did not feel the king's resolve at all; there was only a kind of sorrow.

It was the sorrow of being abandoned by everything one cherished most, of being severed by one's former faith.

It was a loneliness left behind after being betrayed by the whole world.

This emotion created a fundamental contradiction with the identity of a king's descendant.

If he were the king's descendant, he ought to have inherited the will of the king who led his people to rebel, which should have been the courage of a desperate struggle.

Yet what he clearly perceived was the lament of that existence who, after offering everything, was ruthlessly erased.

"Are you really okay?"

Hong Yuan asked again, a bit unsure, looking Chen Guan up and down in an attempt to find traces of disguise on that placid face.

"Your face still looks terrible, as pale as the white flour steamed buns sold in our cafeteria."