Pillar of Yita

Along a reddish-grey rock face, the two of them advanced, crunching gravel underfoot, leaving behind a rustling sound.

”The last time I saw him was seven years ago; he had, like me, moved several times before joining a small adventure group called WNS. The last news I heard about him was that he seemed to have become the leader, and after that, we lost contact with each other,” said Lonely White Field.

Fang Hong was aware that Eteliria had crystal communicators, but their range was limited. People usually communicated through communities, and as long as one had an ID on the platform, they could get in touch with others via inter-realm communication.

So he asked, ”Don’t you have each other’s community ID?”

”He used to use a different identity in the community, not Eteliria’s, and afterwards, he may have changed to a different community ID. I never expected him to go back to using his real name. I’d changed communicators a few times myself, and there are probably few people I knew back then who still remember me,” he replied.

At this point, he glanced at Fang Hong. His own identity being recognized by a young stranger he had never met had taken him by surprise, and also provided a measure of comfort. While he might have been forgotten by most, there were still some who recognized him.

Perhaps this was the only reason why he was still here; he found that his dream of becoming an Invoker hadn’t completely extinguished in his heart—there was still a glimmer of hope.

But this hope wasn’t enough to spur him to make many changes, for it was too late.

After all, he was no longer young—

Meanwhile, Fang Hong, with his head lowered, was contemplating other matters.

Actually, it was possible to have the same name in the community. The real way to distinguish identities was by the numerical codes of the Glow Objects communicators. However, once a communicator was damaged or lost, a new identity obtained wouldn’t retain the old information.

Unless manually added, the kind of scenario Lonely White Field described was indeed possible. After losing a common goal, acquaintances could drift apart, each seeking their own path.

Day by day, until they forgot each other in the busy world.

This made Fang Hong sigh.

In the battle at Pegasus Bridge, Flash was like a genius, his indomitable spirit leaving a deep impression on Fang Hong’s young mind. Ten years later, the once central characters now seem to edge into insignificance, as if strangers passing by, neither recognizing the other.

Fang Hong looked towards Lonely White Field, who, approaching thirty, wasn’t really considered old, but in Eteliria, this was the last scene for an Invoker. KUN, who was of the same generation or even younger, was now on the verge of retirement.

A mere ten years were only sufficient for him to grow from a child to a youth, but for the Invokers of the Super Competitive League, it was the length of an entire life cycle.

But what would he be like in ten years?

Would he stand at the pinnacle of this world like KUN?

Or, would he, alongside another unknown youth, look back on this moment much like now, filled with memories as faded as old yellowed paper slips. The past glories, like the text in an unfamiliar book.

Suddenly, Fang Hong realized there wasn’t a bit of confusion in his heart. Just as the Big Cat People had said, his arrival here was directed by his true nature. Success or failure was only the final result, but he believed he would not make decisions leading to regret.

That was his most fundamental confidence.

Lonely White Field continued to speak, ”I started to remember this when you mentioned R. Back then, he was the youngest member among us. But his talent was exceptional, I even thought at one time—”

He suddenly closed his mouth, as if recalling various past events, furrowing his brow gently.

Fang Hong also recalled the battle of ten years ago; indeed, in that obscure team, aside from Lonely White Field, only that young man with the ID name R had left the deepest impression on him.

His level was the lowest in the team, but his performance was the best, even far surpassing Lonely White Field, who was in front of him now. Lonely White Field had shown promise in that battle, but his final hesitation destroyed all possibilities, and the only person he truly let down was R.

But R had told him in a private message in the community that he understood the other’s choice. That very choice determined their paths henceforth, as distinct as a line dividing them.

It positioned them at opposite ends of a turning point, one side devoid of light, separating them from the brightest part of the starry sky.

Lonely White Field paused for a moment before continuing, ”I met R by a very fortuitous chance. I saw his posts in the community, and just at that time, our team needed a Combat Artisan. You know, V.E.M had just disbanded not long before, and our team was merely a wild dream of like-minded young people, with neither funding nor fame. Having a Combat Artisan take an interest was not easy, so I sent a message to ask if he’d like to join, only to find out he wasn’t a Chosen—”

Fang Hong looked up.

This scene seemed very familiar, almost identical to how he met R. Whether it was a coincidence of history, intentional on their part, or perhaps a remembrance of the past, this fortuitous chance had befallen him.

Lonely White Field went on, ”After a few exchanges, I found that R was a real genius, at least a theoretical one. So, using some old connections from the original guild, I helped him get an Invoker identity—of course, back then the rules of the Super Competitive Alliance weren’t as refined, and the status of a legal Invoker wasn’t as valuable as it is today.”