Pillar of Yita

What lies behind the sixth Red Gate?

Perhaps among this generation, Loofah is most qualified to answer this question.

But at that time, neither Loofah nor Nether asked or answered it, because both understood each other’s thoughts. Loofah stopped just before the seventh Red Gate, which was arguably the best performance in the past few generations, for even the King of Grey, Fox, had never reached this height.

And what truly lies beyond?

Few can answer that either.

Nether had never imagined Fang Hong would reach this point.

In fact, his entrance into the fourth Red Gate was enough to astonish the Queen — because talent is only one aspect, while acquired knowledge is the decisive factor. In Nether’s eyes, Fang Hong was a highly intuitive young man, unfortunately with an unorthodox background.

A week is still too short, she couldn’t help but shake her head.

But this was inevitably the case —

Just as this mood was one that Fang Hong, stepping out gray and exhausted from the sixth Red Gate, obviously couldn’t understand — because prior to this, he was unaware of everything about the Hall of Thousand Doors, and naturally knew nothing of the tracks left by predecessors here.

The only participant he knew was Ragnarok, who fell at the two hundred and thirtieth gate, yet the latter clearly couldn’t serve as a point of reference for him now. The sixth level of the Hall of Thousand Doors was filled with unimaginably complex calculation tests, and stepping out from the last Red Gate left his head feeling a size larger.

The tests of calculative power here differed greatly from popular games outside. It required Alchemists to reverse-engineer the opponent’s calculative power to control Flexible Constructs, aiming to predict their trajectory.

This was practically a tale —

Yet Fang Hong, relying on his deep understanding of Multiple Parallel and Margin techniques, along with his formidable calculative ability, actually figured it out. Only after leaving the sixth Red Gate did he relax and reflect — after all, the ’hide and seek’ game among Alchemists and Clockwork Fairies was also a form of calculative power analysis and reverse engineering.

This skill was originally part of the daily operations of Combat Artisans, but this level merely singled it out for intensive training. And after experiencing this level, Fang Hong truly felt he had gained much.

At least in the future when playing ’hide and seek’ with other craftsman, he could confidently defeat all peers who hadn’t endured this test. Simultaneously, he couldn’t help but wonder, if he hadn’t entered the Hall of Thousand Doors, hadn’t encountered this opportunity, what the result would be?

Undoubtedly, it might not substantially affect his future choices. However, when meeting top craftsmen who had undergone this focused training, he would suffer significant losses in calculative power analysis and reverse engineering.

As for the disparities in experience from other levels, they are even harder to estimate.

Thinking of this, unease stirred in Fang Hong’s heart — he initially thought these conditions were bestowed by Odin and all the gods — but now it seems he had wholly overthought it.

Why would Odin and all the gods, unrelated to him, grant such an opportunity? Fang Hong definitely couldn’t take it as a given, perhaps due to considerations of the Fenris event, but what does Fenris and Ragnarok have to do with the other Guilds?

He could only think of one reason.

That would be the Covenant of the Pioneers —

The legacy of the Invokers of the previous generation conveyed thus, to preserve the glory of an era from being severed after them.

Such realization.

Caused a subtle warmth to flow through his heart, making those once faded and blurred impressions crystal clear again. Some inexpressible elements returned like a dream to the depths of his soul.

Because the Pioneers never left; they had always been here.

And this was precisely the Stargate Era in his heart.

Perhaps there were conspiracies, perhaps there was avarice, but ultimately, the light of hope and idealists still shone here.

Fang Hong gently pushed open the next door.

He increasingly felt he could not betray this goodwill; perhaps there would come a time to stop, but that would only be after attempting every effort, exhausting every method, ensuring he could go no further.

Only then would he not betray the trust these people placed in him.

Of course, no one would tell him —

From the moment he pushed open the four hundredth Red Gate, everything afterward really was all in his head.

Yet regardless, for Fang Hong, all that remains is to continue onward — as he entered the seventh level door, he paused — before him appeared a familiar scene: broad and bright workshop windows, soft sunlight shining through from the street outside — across several tables scattered with various tools and parts.

In the cupboard beside, arranged were rows of completed or only half-finished Flexible Constructs, with an Iron Golem hanging its head, nestled in the corner of the workshop, a third-finished scaffold perched atop.

Though the scaffold was empty.

Outside the window, the greenery was as lush as carpet, sunlight streaming through the sycamore’s large leaves, leaving light yellow marks along the veins — past the murmuring river, a nearby street appeared. Fang Hong knew the place well, a hotel lay across the street, a place he had once lived for a long time.