Vol 2 Chapter 183 The Named Dead

“Deity” is an honorific title for those beings so powerful they are unstoppable, even unimaginable. In this imperfect world, those who can be called deities are often the “Hours” who reside high in the heavens, presiding over the world’s laws and influencing the operation of all things.

Next down are the “Named Ones.” They are often great existences who have engraved their true names upon the World’s Wall, with personal ranks between 8th and 9th Tier. They are also candidates for the position of Hours and can influence the laws of their respective Aspect to a certain degree.

For certain powerful “Named Ones,” fanatical worshippers may also address them as “deities.”

Those who can become Named Ones have all achieved perfect balance in the Threefold Law and have even created concepts unique to themselves. This allows them to carve out a small piece from the laws presided over by the “Hours” as their own “territory.” In other words, within this small piece of concept, they are the source and the most powerful existence.

“Meleranke” once founded the Silver Radiance Church and brought the concept attribute of “Purification” to its extreme. “Purification” is also a concept greatly associated with the “Luminous Moon” Aspect, so she was seen as a strong candidate for the position of the “Luminous Moon” Hour.

Unlike the currently stable Ninth Epoch – the Covenant Epoch, the Eighth Epoch – the Newborn Epoch was an era of great chaos. In that era, the Six Dragons of Law fell one after another, Hours changed, and various “Named Ones” emerged like waves. Some ultimately defeated their opponents and ascended, while others faded into history.

“What does this mean?”

Passing through the long passageway, Lusha frowned as she looked at the stone wall before her. Ancient murals were carved on it, depicting a strange deity with bull horns and a lower body like a snake. He waved a long flute, his expression manic and joyful.

Lusha’s main cultivation was the “Assassin” Path. The requirements for knowledge were not as high as for professions like “Wizards” or “Scholars,” and she had never heard any information about the deity depicted in the mural before her.

Could it be an evil god, or perhaps just some cult?

Some evil Transcendents would disguise themselves as gods before ignorant beings, making people worship them, then use this to condense Aspects or perform sacrifices to enhance their own power.

Out of caution, Lusha did not approach the mural at the end of the passageway but observed it carefully. However, after looking for a long time, she found nothing unusual.

As time passed, she grew somewhat irritable, wondering if she was being too cautious and suspicious. Besides, having come this far, could she really turn back? It was likely impossible to return the same way.

Suppressing the anxiety in her heart, she paced back and forth, trying several more methods to test it, all without any reaction.

Finally, she decided she was just overthinking it, then approached the mural and gently touched it with her hand, trying to see if she could push it open.

With that touch, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Her vision before her swayed, the patterns and lines on the surrounding walls seemed to wriggle like insects, and the mural before her seemed to come alive. The overlapping human figures and monsters slowly walked into her eyes and drilled into her mind.

Lusha slowly sat down on the ground, entering a strange dream.

In the dream, she was an omnipotent, powerful existence in the heavens. Countless people on the ground kowtowed and bowed to her, then prayed for her protection. She smiled and waved her scepter, dividing these people into several groups, making them fight and slaughter each other, watching them use all sorts of schemes, tricks, lies, and betrayal against one another, until one side achieved victory and offered the corpses of the defeated to her as sacrifice.

This behavior continued repeatedly. Whenever large numbers of high-tier Transcendents died in this ritual, her power would be enhanced. Over time, she became the “Named One” of concepts like “conspiracy and betrayal,” and a strong candidate for the position of the “Nightmare” Hour at that time.

“We beseech the Spirit of Conspiracy and Doubt, the God of Distrust and Lies, Pallen Markov!”

“Your will shall reappear in the world!”

…

The words of the prayer echoed continuously in her ears, repeating over and over, making her consciousness blur. It was as if she herself was “Pallen Markov,” and the name Lusha was merely a passerby.

Who am I?

How could I possibly be such a mediocre talent who couldn’t advance for over a decade?

I am so powerful, cunning, and clever. How could I make such low-level mistakes?

That’s right, I am ‘Pallen Markov.’

…

This name seemed to possess a kind of magic, making her gradually believe it. That great existence awakened deep within her consciousness, and she deeply accepted it as truth.

A long time later, she awoke from the heavy, drowsy dream. Though the sleep had lasted only half an hour, it felt like an eternity, leaving her consciousness dazed.

‘Lusha…

Pallen Markov…’

She murmured these two names. The wall before her, carved with the mural, slowly descended, revealing the path to the final layer.

On the other side of the maze, Sylutia also encountered the same mural chamber. She hovered quietly before the mural, observing the figures depicted on it.

It seems this should be some ancient existence, probably the master of this tomb. Speaking of which, have any famous figures emerged from this region? Sylutia tried hard to recall.

At this moment, the advantage of good academic performance slowly came into play. Sylutia recalled the origin of the Darkmist Mountains region. It was severed during the chaotic battles of the Eighth Epoch era by the “Named One” Yulira, causing this piece of land to break off from the Fourth Continent and fall into the Twilight Sea.

The reason, it is said, was that Yulira was furious at being tricked and deceived. Even if she could not become a “Hour,” she would drag her opponent down with her. So she caused this landmass to directly sink, dragging her enemy and its followers together into the Twilight Sea.

That enemy’s name was… Pallen Markov.

Sylutia dug out that hastily recorded name from the corner of her memory. However, there were extremely few descriptions and records about this name, only hinting that this individual was associated with schemes and tricks and was a Named One who balanced the three Aspects of “Insect Moth,” “Nightmare,” and “Beast Fang.”

Thinking about it this carefully, the large number of “Insect Moth” Aspect Cards she obtained along the way also made sense.

However, this individual’s reputation is so poor. Would his tomb be so kind as to give rewards to visitors? Sylutia felt a vague suspicion.

Hovering before the mural, Sylutia switched Aspects, using “Alien Star Perception” and “Discernment Eyes” to investigate and probe.

This “mural” is very *not right*, just like some kind of hidden contract. As soon as I press on it, it means I agree.

So sinister? Sylutia felt a belated fear. She slowly lowered her body, recalling the journey along the way, trying to analyze the other party’s purpose in this process.

If you want to hide one lie, the best way is to hide it among nine truths. So, those previous stages and rewards were probably all for this final moment, to make people press down without any *guard*, believing this was merely a reasonable way to open the passage.

If that’s the case, the price the other party paid is indeed somewhat high, and they were very *willing to part with it*. But Sylutia reconsidered: for a Named One, these rewards might be nothing at all.

However, since she had discovered something was wrong here, Sylutia removed the 【Butterfly Wings】 and 【Floral Nectar Breathing Technique】 Cards originally inserted into her Fate Plate, replacing them with the Cards she had cultivated and condensed herself.

【Lunar Radiance Breathing Technique】【Astral Traversal】【Evil Eye Shot】. Let’s pair them like this for now. After preparing herself, Sylutia’s eyes flashed with light, directly traversing the short distance through space, arriving in the world behind the wall.

Ignoring the mural’s obstruction, she continued traveling through the passageway, reaching the next layer of the maze.

Soon, she finally passed through this long spiral tunnel, arriving at a spacious hall. Six eternal braziers burned here. On the central stone platform rested an ancient stone flute, and behind the stone platform was a statue of “Pallen Markov.”

At this moment, an unfamiliar figure was already standing before the stone platform, attempting to pick up that flute. But when she reached out, Sylutia’s intrusion interrupted this process.

An invisible light lit up on the hall’s floor, then outlined complex Patterns. At this moment, a faint irritation arose in the hearts of the two people in the hall—a kind of bloodthirsty impulse craving slaughter, hoping to use the other’s blood to cool and comfort themselves.

Selection Ceremony · Pallen’s Maze · Final Chapter, Commences.

Everything of the loser shall become nourishment and tribute, offered to the great Pallen Markov.

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