I am God LSLCCF

Chapter 215: Gods and God-Created Men

The bottle shattered, and the artificial monster who called itself the God of Knowledge died.

Asai, Vivien, and Stuen stood in this inconspicuous little hut, but the atmosphere didn’t lighten with the passing of the Little Person in the Bottle. Instead, it grew increasingly heavy.

Vivien gazed at Asai’s back.

This young man wore a coat that had only come into fashion in recent years, with a cane hanging from the crook of his arm.

He spoke slowly, a very quiet person.

But Vivien not only recalled what the Little Person in the Bottle had said earlier, she also heard it call Asai “Anhofus” at the last moment.

In that instant, the impression Asai gave to everyone completely changed.

His quiet depth seemed to conceal swords and spears. Even just standing there silently, he gave off the feeling of a crisis like a tsunami, as if he might devour this world at any moment if one wasn’t careful.

She drew her sword and pointed it at Asai, clearly treating him as an enemy.

She coldly called out his other name: “The evil sorcerer Anhofus.”
“I can’t believe you’re still alive,” she said, her voice filled with disbelief and anger.

“You’ve embarked on the mythical path of Wisdom, becoming a reincarnator?”

Like the Little Person in the Bottle, Anhofus was also an enemy of the Temple of Truth.

Or rather.

All of this disaster began because of the man before her. If he hadn’t created the bone demons, if he hadn’t pursued the power of immortality, if he hadn’t created the Little Person in the Bottle.

This world wouldn’t have become like this, at least not as it is now.

Even as Vivien spoke, Stuen sprang into action.

The river of blood surged, instantly flooding this abandoned town.

But Asai showed no intention of fighting Stuen.

He vanished from his spot in an instant.

On a patch of ground far from the town, a ritual array formed, and Asai walked out from a door.

Polik also appeared by his side, holding the scythe and tablet left behind by the Lord of Death.

He had regained his power, wielding partial authority over the Door of Truth, just like the former Truth High Priest.

He was also Asai’s only companion, his most loyal follower.

Asai looked towards the river of blood rushing towards him, raised his hand, and the Door of Truth appeared, like a great mountain blocking the impact of the blood river.

But the power of the blood river surged again, breaking through the Door of Truth in the blink of an eye.

Asai swiftly retreated, leaping onto a nearby mound of earth.

Stuen and Vivien caught up.

It was only then that Asai responded to what Vivien had said earlier: “Vivien, the third Sage of Truth.”

“Compared to Anhofus, I prefer to be called Asai.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, hate me, or fear me.”

Asai took the cane from the crook of his arm and planted it on the ground.

“Although I’m not seeking any kind of redemption, I truly don’t intend to do anything terrible that you might imagine.”

Vivien: “But you’re Anhofus, you created the Little Person in the Bottle with your own hands, you sacrificed everyone on the Sacred Mountain with your own hands.”

“Do you think that by changing your name, you can say goodbye to everything you’ve done in the past with a clear conscience?”

Asai: “I am Anhofus after reincarnation.”

“The former Anhofus found immortality, his life’s meaning and destiny ended.”

“He felt there was nothing left in this world to care about, and had no desire to return.”

Asai looked at Vivien: “I know the past can’t be erased, so I just want to change the present.”

“Vivien, third Sage of Truth.”

“This is an endless cycle of nightmares. Anhofus, the Little Person in the Bottle, you, Stuen, me—we’re all trapped in it.”

“We’re all sinking deeper into this nightmare.”

Asai’s eyes grew distant, as if lost in deep thought: “When did this nightmare begin?”

“Was it with Anhofus, or the fire demon Haru?”

“Or did it start even earlier, with the Samo Kingdom, with those generations of kings seeking immortality?”

“Or perhaps…”

“When the offspring of the first king, Redlichia, initiated betrayal and patricide, pursuing the highest throne of wisdom and power.”

“The seeds of evil were already sown then.”

As he said this, Asai thought of his mother.

He remembered his hometown, the old priest and doctor from his village, and Colin and the victimized children in Anho City.

He also thought of Anhofus, of his teacher Haru, and saw the image of Anhofus raising the remnants of Haru’s magic bottle in the swamp.

Anhofus was born into the Samo family of the royal bloodline, a family that pursued the secret art of immortality generation after generation, ultimately led to ruin by a mad final monarch.

Anhofus’s teacher, Haru, also died pursuing the power of immortality and myth, refusing to admit his failure even in his final moments before his close friend Lan.

Anhofus’s entire life was bound by countless chains, dragging him into the abyss of madness, only loosening at the moment of his death.

The Little Person in the Bottle’s life was similar.

It was born in a bottle, a monster without any empathy from the moment of its creation. It had no concept of good or evil; everything it did was merely a game to it.

All it longed for throughout its life was to leave that bottle and experience a broader world.

Vivien, Stuen, and countless others in this world were caught up in this spreading pain and despair.

The nightmare that originated with Anhofus spread like a plague.

Everyone.

Living in a nightmare.

And what he could do was to break this cycle of nightmares.

Asai closed his eyes, facing the darkness directly.

“It’s time to end this,” he said quietly, his voice filled with determination.

“This nightmare has gone on for too long, so long that even the word ‘despair’ is insufficient to describe it.”

Vivien stood at the foot of the mound, unsure whether to trust the person before her.

Asai closed his eyes and reached out his hand, saying to Polik beside him: “Finally, there’s one last thing to do.”

He took up the scythe of the Lord of Death, and also the tablet symbolizing the power of the divine contract.

Asai aimed at those distant surging lights, those ghostly shadows flashing like light and meteors across the Sacred Lake.

Some were those frenzied Ghost Cult followers, but more were innocent people sacrificed by those cultists.

A large portion of them were once residents of the Sacred Mountain, the Trilobite people.

Asai raised the tablet, and the Door of Truth opened behind him.

A black, tattered robe draped over Asai’s shoulders, the hood covering his face.

“Come back!”

“You masterless ghosts!”

“The madness has ended, the pain will spread no more, everything will end at this moment.”

Tens of thousands of ghosts suddenly stopped all movement, rushing towards Asai’s location.

They poured into the Door of Truth, washing away the curses and will that the Little Person in the Bottle had placed upon them, then one by one turned into fireflies on the spot.

Ghost after ghost broke free from the power of the Little Person in the Bottle, dissipating into the sky.

They finally broke the bottle and constraints that had trapped them, becoming beautiful life dreams entering the realm of Yinsai.

More and more ghosts came rushing, all finding liberation in the light.

Finally, he saw a special person.

A young woman wearing magnificent clothes, as if waiting for her wedding, came step by step from afar.

She climbed the steps, standing before the great Door of Truth.

Princess Yeya.

Asai’s gaze was complex as he silently faced this ghost.

She also gazed at him in confusion, a remnant ghost of the former princess, possessing fragments of her memories.

She kept repeating stories and moments from the past, trapped in a bottle made of memory and time, stubbornly clinging to her former obsessions.

She seemed to recognize him, yet couldn’t be entirely certain it was him.

After a long moment of silence, she finally spoke.

“You’re back?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home, wanting to talk to you.”

Asai looked at Princess Yeya, his lips parting and trembling slightly. Finally, he said:

“Let it go!”

“The Anhofus you loved is gone, Your Highness.”

“Why cling to someone who didn’t love you?”

Hearing these words from Asai’s mouth, Princess Yeya stared at him blankly.

That vacant gaze seemed to regain a flicker of emotion for an instant, though Asai couldn’t tell if it was sadness or realization.

Or perhaps something else entirely.

In a final gesture, she embraced him gently, whispering something in his ear.

The sound was so faint that Asai couldn’t make out what she was saying. He turned his head, bewildered, to look at Princess Yeya.

Princess Yeya didn’t explain, but she smiled at him.

He vaguely understood that perhaps those words were meant for Anhofus, not for him.

Princess Yeya released Asai, her form floating up into the sky,

Dissipating into the air.

With this, everything was over. All the ghosts were liberated, transformed into life’s dreams returning to the realm of dreams.

Throughout this exchange, Vivien and Stuen had been watching Asai intently. Vivien found herself unable to comprehend the person before her.

Was this really Anhofus?

She and Anhofus weren’t from the same era; all she knew of him came from others’ accounts.

But she knew she couldn’t let her guard down. This Asai before her was the first reincarnator to walk the path of the Wisdom Myth.

What made him even more terrifying was that he was Anhofus’s reincarnation. No matter what, he posed an enormous threat to Yinsai and the Temple of Truth.

Vivien watched as Asai sent off all the ghosts, resolving one of their major problems and averting a great disaster.

It was then that she finally spoke: “What exactly do you want?”

Asai exhaled softly and gave Vivien a formal bow.

“Nothing.”

“I’ve done everything I wanted to do.”

“What happens next has nothing to do with me.”

After saying this, he also bowed to Polik: “Thank you for your help along the way, my friend Polik.”

Polik didn’t dare accept, immediately returning the bow: “It was my honor, sir.”

Asai turned around, walking towards the open Door of Truth.

His voice was full of weariness, his speech even slower, as if he were mumbling with his eyes closed.

“Let it be!”

“I’m tired.”

“I think… I want to sleep.”

Asai took a step inside, his form engulfed by the dazzling light within the door.

At this moment, Vivien, Stuen, and Polik, standing outside the door, saw another world evolving within the Door of Truth.

It was a small town, remote and quiet.

Ordinary buildings, ordinary people, unremarkable events.

Asai walked in, transforming from a tall young man into a child, happily blending into the scene.

In this new world, he had an ordinary mother, a modest home, and a group of playmates who often quarreled and wrestled with him.

There was a kind doctor and a stingy but caring priest who looked after Asai.

Here, there were no nightmares or despair, no Little Person in the Bottle.

This time, Asai finally became a small priest’s apprentice without incident.

He took his mother to the big city of Anho that he had always yearned for, bought a house of their own, ate delicacies they never dared to imagine before, and made one friend after another.

In this dream world, Asai lived a happy life.

The door slowly closed, chains intertwining,

Asai sealed himself inside, not wanting anyone to disturb his beautiful dream.

Polik watched as the Door of Truth closed, gradually fading from top to bottom until it vanished completely.

Stuen and Vivien had remained alert throughout, ready to counterattack at the slightest sign of trouble.

Yet he had simply left like this.

He had delivered the fatal blow to the Little Person in the Bottle, then released all the ghosts in this world, and that was it.

Vivien glanced at Stuen, slightly confused. Stuen, looking at where the Door of Truth had disappeared, said: “Perhaps he really is different from the legendary Anhofus.”

Because Asai didn’t need to put on an act in front of them, to perform this charade.

He had truly lost interest in this world.

Compared to the dark and cruel reality, he preferred to be forever immersed in his own dream.

When Vivien investigated the Anho City incident, she had also learned about Polik, knowing he came from the Temple of Truth.

“Polik.”

“I know you. You were once branded an evil sorcerer for conducting forbidden experiments that harmed others. Your power was stripped, and you were imprisoned.”

“The punishment back then might have been too severe. After all these years, you’ve atoned for your past mistakes.”

“Do you want to come back now?”

Polik shook his head: “I still prefer a freer life, great Sage.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Polik won’t do anything risky anymore.”

Polik bowed to the third Sage of Truth and Stuen, then turned to leave.

As he gradually disappeared into the distance, walking down a slope.

A ritual array appeared on the back of his hand, very similar to the pattern on the Door of Truth—

Vivien and Stuen withdrew all their power and headed towards the Sacred Mountain.

By now, the Demon-Hunting Group, the Nine Great Ritual Temples’ priest corps, and the allied forces from various regions had already completely finished the battle and were beginning to clean up the battlefield.

Anli, the leader of the Temple’s Demon-Hunting Group, had even led people into the former God-Servant City, the capital when the Henir Dynasty was founded.

It was here that this campaign to reclaim the Sacred Mountain could finally be considered officially over.

“We’ve ascended the Sacred Mountain!” The priests cheered endlessly as the crowd carefully walked along the grand avenue. They looked up at the towering statues of the two generations of Wisdom Kings,

“So this is what King Redlichia and King Yesael really looked like.” These statues were carved during King Yesael’s era, so they could be said to be the most accurate representations of the two generations of Wisdom Kings.

Some people climbed over the walls to enter, pushing open the long-sealed gates of the God-Servant City.

“Is the God-Servant City really this big?” People walked in, greeted by the sight of an ancient and magnificent city.

“Of course, this was once the royal capital.” Members of the priest corps and the Demon-Hunting Group stood before the God-Servant City, awestruck by everything they saw.

“So many corpses, how many people died back then?” The streets were littered with countless statues, all victims of that long-ago disaster.

“The Sky Temple is right there.” Someone looked up towards the temple partially visible among the clouds. From here, they could already clearly see most of its shape.

They hurried towards it.

Compared to the God-Servant City, the Sky Temple was even more legendary.

This city was originally built specifically for the construction of the Sky Temple. The Sacred Mountain and Sacred Lake were named “sacred” because of the Sky Temple’s presence here.

This temple was built by King Yesael to seek Yinsai’s attention, although it ultimately failed to bring about the god’s descent.

It was established by Yesael, the divine messenger Polo once descended here, the great poet Tito’s poems were enshrined here, the second-generation saint Stan Tito once served as a Sky Priest here, and the first Sage of Truth, Sandean, was also once its master.

Besides these resounding names, there were countless other stories here.

Every stone slab, every corner here, echoed with remnants of epic legendary chapters.

“Finally, we’ve finally reclaimed it!” As they stepped onto the plaza, someone fell to their knees, wailing,

“After so many years.” Some stood in a daze.

“We’ve reclaimed our lost holy land.” Others knelt to kiss the floor.

“God said~” More people closed their eyes, chanting the Redlichia Covenant.

Most of those expressing these sentiments were elderly, and besides awe, their emotions were predominantly joy and excitement.

For them, the era of the Sky Temple was too distant a memory.

For as long as they could remember, this place had been a den of evil, the most feared location in the world.

Now they had defeated the demon who falsely claimed to be a god, reclaiming the Sacred Mountain and the ancient capital. This was the ultimate achievement and glory.

The group reached the main hall of the Sky Temple, hesitating at its entrance.

At this moment, Vivien and Stuen also arrived.

Anli led the two of them into the main hall of the Sky Temple. It was covered in dust everywhere, with many things fallen to the ground, presenting a scene of desolation.

The three walked in quietly, barely daring to speak.

In this place, it felt as if Yinsai was invisibly watching over them.

They saw the poems left by the legendary great poet, and one artifact after another that only existed in myths and epics.

Vivien led the way in paying respects to Yinsai’s statue, then carefully looked at it: “So this is the statue of Yinsai carved by King Yesael.”

Anli glanced at the statue curiously: “This must be the oldest statue, isn’t it?”

“Didn’t King Yesael see God with his own eyes? Why can’t we see anything clearly?”

Vivien glared at Anli: “Don’t speak carelessly in front of God.”

“Haven’t you read the Yesael City stone inscriptions transcribed by the great poet? Even King Yesael couldn’t directly gaze upon God’s existence. What he saw was only what he was capable of seeing.”

Anli then remembered the records about King Yesael, and felt even more awe towards Yinsai.

After all, even the Little Person in the Bottle, who arrogantly claimed to be a deity, only dared to call itself a creation of Yinsai.

It seemed this was the only way it could prove its legitimacy as a myth.

After chanting the Redlichia Covenant once before Yinsai’s statue, Vivien finally stood up.

“Send the news back to the God-Descended City, inform His Majesty the King.”

“We have won.”

Anli left the temple, heading outside.

Vivien then led Stuen into a side corridor, continuing to explore this ancient temple, the holy land of all Yinsai believers.

They passed through a spiral staircase and walked along a small path.

The view suddenly opened up before them.

They had arrived at the highest point of the Sacred Mountain, on a small platform.

Before them was a thousand-foot cliff.

At this moment, night was falling, and the distant moon appeared in the darkness, reflected in the Sacred Lake.

From here, they could see a moon both in the sky and in the lake.

Stuen gazed at the two distant moons. The one in the sky was unreachable, untouchable.

The one in the water was rippling and illusory, merely a mirage.

He suddenly said: “I’m leaving too.”

Vivien was stunned for a moment, not understanding Stuen’s meaning at first, but after thinking for a bit, she seemed to suddenly understand something.

She thought Stuen was going to leave.

After all, with the Little Person in the Bottle dead, he had no reason to stay.

She had grown so accustomed to Stuen supporting her from behind, working together towards the common goal of destroying the Little Person in the Bottle, that she hadn’t considered this issue for a moment, or perhaps she had been unwilling to think about it before.

After much hesitation, she finally expressed her understanding and best wishes to Stuen.

“I see.”

“Our original agreement has come to an end.”

“Stuen, you don’t owe me anything. You can go pursue what you want.”

“Perhaps… you can live the life of an ordinary person…”

Stuen suddenly interrupted Vivien’s words. His peculiar eyes looked at Vivien.

“Perhaps I should be clearer. It’s not about leaving.”

“This existence as Stuen is about to end its journey of revenge.”

“Ending its mission, and its life.”

Vivien couldn’t believe it: “Impossible!”

“Stuen! You’re a myth, you’re immortal!”

Stuen had already sensed the changes within himself, and he suddenly understood why his teacher Left Hand had told him that his power never belonged to him.

He also knew why the witch doctors had told him he was merely a tool called God-Created Man.

Stuen walked to the edge of the cliff, his blood-red robe fluttering violently in the wind.

Facing the wind that made it hard to keep one’s eyes open, he looked towards the sky.

He wasn’t looking at the clouds, but seemed to be looking at something above the cloud layer.

Something that didn’t belong to this world.

“No!”

“It’s not me who’s immortal, but the God-Created Man.”

“I’m just a consciousness of hatred and curse attached to the God-Created Man, an existence born in Cross City, formed from the hatred and vengeance of countless people.”

“At most, I’m just one of its past consciousness individuals, a past life in one of its cycles.”

“And now, it’s time for me to dissipate.”

“For it, this is merely a simple reincarnation.”

Stuen: “My teachers, the witch doctors, gave me the power of the God-Created Man. I’m grateful to them. They gave me the power for revenge.”

“It was they who bestowed upon me this powerful Life Myth, allowing me to end the curse born in Cross City.”

“Now that I’ve killed that demon with my own hands, the curse and hatred of Cross City will dissipate.”

“I’m content.”

Vivien listened quietly as Stuen explained everything, and understood the key points.

But she still felt sad.

She hadn’t expected it all to end so quickly, ending so abruptly that it caught her off guard.

Although Stuen couldn’t see her expression, he had sensed her emotions: “Don’t be sad, you should be happy.”

“All hatred and pain ends here. This is something worth celebrating.”

“They are no longer in pain.”

“And I am now free.”

One by one, black shadows emerged from Stuen’s body, dissipating into a smell of decay and rot.

In those shadows, many figures could be seen, many familiar to Vivien.

They had constantly cursed in anger within Stuen’s body, roaring in discontent in Stuen’s dreams time and time again.

From the moment disaster struck Cross City, until now.

But at this moment, they all quietly dispersed.

Finally.

She also saw Lester, this young man who had lost everything in pursuit of medical skills, who said one last thing to her.

Not “thank you.”

But.

“I’m sorry.”

Vivien quietly watched him dissipate. She wanted to say something, but in the end didn’t respond.

She had no right to forgive him on behalf of the people of Cross City, and she knew.

This was merely a strand of Lester’s resentment; he had died many years ago.

Stuen, who was formed from the resentment and hatred of all the people of Cross City, also reached his end at the moment when the hatred concluded.

The blood-colored clothes on Stuen gradually lost their color, turning white.

His appearance also began to change, becoming an ancient and standard countenance, like a carefully carved statue.

He walked step by step towards the sky. Vivien called out Stuen’s name, but there was no response.

A halo of light spread in the cloud layer, engulfing his silhouette.

The world behind the cloud layer.

Past the dreamy starry sea and the garden of the God-Given Land, on the high pyramid, the eternal being opened its eyes at Stuen’s return.

The Life Artifact – God-Created Man finally returned to God’s realm, carrying the mission once bestowed upon it by God.