Chapter 192: Nightworld, Activate!

“‘Artificial Angel’ Project?”

Rast looked at the snow ferret before him and repeated this somewhat unfamiliar term.

“It sounds like… they intended to use human technological means to reach the mythic domain of the Eighth Tier beyond the Legendary Realm, to achieve a true ‘Angel’?”

“Mm, that’s right.”

Dean Silver flicked her tail. “You know it.”

“Those pre-civilizations that had already vanished in the bygone era, though centered around humans, often diverged vastly depending on their focus within the technological tree.”

“And those pre-civilizations that passed through the budding and growing Bronze and Silver Ages and entered the most glorious Golden Age inevitably detected the end of their era, brought about by the rules of the dimension, or rather, the Final Catastrophe of the ‘Order of the World’.”

She rolled up a dried fish from a Sub-Dimension and popped it into her mouth. “Naturally, not all those pre-civilizations chose to sit and wait for death—”

“Although in some eras, civilization had already crumbled and descended into chaos before the end…”

“There were also some bygone eras where humanity chose to resist until the very end, pouring the entirety of their civilization’s power into fighting against the inevitable catastrophe at the end of the epoch.”

“That part I’m aware of.”

Rast nodded.

Back when he had learned from Noah about the origins of the Gravekeepers and the Shoreguards, he had specially gone to the Arcane Tower to look up information about the first five eras.

Fortunately, from the First Era to the Fifth Era, the Nightworlds had already been thoroughly explored and conquered by black night travelers of previous generations over the past millennia. They weren’t shrouded in the fog of history like the Sixth Era.

With the exception of the First Era—the Age of Gods, when the nameless Fool created the ‘Fool’s Library’ and established the Gravekeepers—due to the extreme antiquity and the underdeveloped information storage technology of the time, only some vague words remained without detailed records.

From the Second Era to the Fifth Era, the black night travelers of old had left behind very detailed records.

“Nearly every bygone era’s civilization had formulated plans to pour all their power into resisting or surviving the end of their era.”

“But in reality, among all these plans, only those of the Second Era’s wizard civilization and the Fourth Era’s virtual realm civilization were successfully initiated and nearly completed.”

Rast recalled the Nightworld exploration logs he had read at the Arcane Tower.

In the early budding stages of the Second Era, humanity had discovered the existence of magic.

Thus, the entire development of human civilization in the Second Era was closely tied to magic, wizards, mage towers, and the like… In that era, wizards held supreme status. Even a newly enlightened arcane apprentice was on equal footing with nobles.

At the height of the wizard civilization’s prosperity, there were three mage towers built by Legendary Wizards standing tall across the land.

When that pre-civilization detected the coming of the Final Catastrophe of their era, they chose to pour their civilization’s full strength into weaving a ‘Magic Web’ that enveloped the entire dimension, attempting to rewrite the dimension’s laws to counter the ‘Order of the World’ at its root.

Unlike the wizard civilization of the Second Era that directly confronted the world’s rules, the virtual realm civilization of the Fourth Era stumbled upon the dimension known as the virtual realm during its development and made contact with the void lifeforms and even the void spirits deep within the void.

Eventually, this gave rise to a civilization system deeply symbiotic with the virtual realm.

Upon learning of the impending Final Catastrophe, the virtual realm civilization devised a plan of escape—

To relocate the entire continent, along with all life upon it, into the dimension of the virtual realm.

To abandon their homeland and begin a life of fleeing and wandering within the abyss of dimensions.

But clearly, whether it was the ‘Magic Web Project’ of the Second Era’s wizard civilization or the ‘Void Migration Project’ of the Fourth Era’s virtual realm civilization, both ultimately ended in failure…

If not, there would have been no subsequent reboots into new eras and new civilizations.

And those grand plans devised with the total power of their civilizations were buried with the vanished civilizations beneath the dust of history, only to be rediscovered by black night travelers countless millennia later.

“That’s right.”

“Whether it was the ‘Magic Web Project’ or the ‘Void Migration Project’, both were magnificent undertakings achieved with the strength of all humanity in their time—the most glorious creations of their civilizations.”

“And the reason our Present World has advanced so rapidly is precisely because we learned from those pre-civilizations. The existence of the Nightworld allows us to adopt and refine their technologies—”

“For example, the magitech and alchemical potions we now use come from the Second Era’s wizard civilization, while the network communication technology using transmissions via the virtual realm stems from the Fourth Era’s virtual realm civilization.”

Dean Silver paused briefly.

“And the civilization of the Sixth Era, as it currently appears, has fully embraced the path of scientific development—going even further than we have.”

“The ‘Artificial Angel’ Project is the crystallization of the most advanced scientific technology of the Sixth Era.”

“To put it simply, they wanted to use purely technological means to create a semi-mechanical lifeform capable of bearing a human soul.”

“And with the power of science, to bestow upon this mechanical creation an entirely new, never-before-seen Higher Sequence—”

“‘Judgment’.”

Dean Silver gazed into Rast’s eyes. “According to their theories and calculations, once this project was truly completed…”

“The artificially created Higher Sequence bestowed by science would directly reach the Eighth Tier—reaching the level of ‘Angel’.”

“That was under the leadership of Grey, where the humans of the Sixth Era poured the entire might of their civilization to create an ultimate weapon to resist the forthcoming Final Catastrophe, the gods atop the Threshold of Seraphim, and the Gravekeepers—”

“A true mythic armament with deities as its imagined enemies, namely the so-called ‘Artificial Angel’.”

“Because the final product of this project possessed the Unique Sequence ‘Judgment’, it could also be referred to as the ‘Judgment Angel’.”

Rast nodded. “Then, what you just said, Dean Silver—about ‘Canaan’—what did that refer to?”

“Uncertain, truly uncertain.”

Dean Silver shook her head. “You should understand—such a grand-scale plan, into which the entirety of a civilization was poured and which could directly impact the fate of that civilization, must be under the strictest confidentiality.”

“All research related to the ‘Artificial Angel’ Project was conducted in a top-tier mechanical research institute within a Historical Echo.”

“That scientific civilization in the Historical Echo possessed more high-tier powerhouses than our Present World, and its scientific development far surpassed ours. All the advantages the black night travelers had over the native inhabitants of instances were completely nullified…”

“Not even one member of the Strategy Team from Starfall University, responsible for pioneering the Nightworld, managed to infiltrate the mechanical research institute successfully.”

“‘Canaan’—that is all we know. Because of you, I specifically instructed them to keep a lookout.”

“If you want to learn more, you will likely need to personally explore the Nightworld yourself.”

“After all, you are the Spiritual Pillar of the great leader Grey, the lone—”

“Stop. Don’t say another word. I get it.”

Rast cut in, interrupting Dean Silver’s incantation.

Even without Dean Silver bringing it up, continuing to explore the Nightworld was already part of Rast’s established plan.

But after Dean Silver mentioned clues about ‘Canaan’, the priority of exploring the Nightworld in Rast’s mind instantly jumped several levels.

He had already been suspecting whether he, Xiao Ai, and the massive explosion two hundred years ago in the Present World that flattened the entire town of Canaan, were connected to the Sixth Era.

Now, it seemed that question mark could perhaps finally be erased.

Which meant, on this journey into the Nightworld, he might finally learn the answer he had been yearning for—

About Xiao Ai, about Canaan…

The entire truth.

“That’s more like it. Other black night travelers can’t get in, but Little Rast, you’ll definitely be fine.”

The little snow ferret gave Rast a “you know it” kind of look. “Honestly, I’m starting to suspect you might be Nightworld’s secret child.”

“Otherwise, there’s no way to explain why you’re so special. It’s like you’re the favorite in there… Every time you enter the Nightworld, your style is completely different from other black night travelers.”

Other black night travelers entering the Nightworld felt like they were pioneering a dungeon in a newly patched online game—cautious, methodical, focused on gathering intel, aiming to avoid mistakes rather than accomplish feats. After all, life only comes once, and when you’re killed, you die.

Even when they did participate in historical events serving as the background of instances, they were just insignificant background characters—at best, named extras.

But Rast was different. Every time he entered the Nightworld, he charged straight in and somehow turned himself into the protagonist of a historical event.

It was as if the entire ‘Nightworld’ had been created just for him.

…

One month later, Arcane Tower, Epoch Hall.

By now, Rast was no longer the freshman who had first visited the Arcane Tower under Ingrid’s guidance. Entering the Arcane Tower had become as effortless for him as eating or drinking.

As Professor Barbalossa once put it, he had started treating this place like his own home.

Naturally, Professor Barbalossa was very welcoming of that.

After all, to the vast majority of black night travelers, the Arcane Tower and the ‘Final Nightworld’ within it were terrifying places as fearsome as tigers or wolves—just one visit could cost half a life. Ten or fifteen days could pass without seeing a single soul.

Only someone as peculiar as Rast would tirelessly and persistently care for this empty-nest old ferret.

By now, Rast was already thoroughly familiar with the preparations required before entering the Nightworld. Having gone through it so many times, it no longer warranted detailed explanation.

The only special aspect of this preparation phase was that Rast had spent over a month immersed in Dean Agatha’s mechanical research division of the Ashen Institute.

He knew very well that he wasn’t like Shiltina, who had long adapted to sword-and-blade combat styles.

Rast’s military combat techniques had been honed to maturity during the cycle in Deep Blue Port. While he could rely on them without dragging others down when necessary, he preferred solving problems with mechanical weaponry like bullets and firearms when possible—because it was cleaner and more efficient.

However, as Rast’s strength had grown, the “Iron-Marked Moon” revolver and “Sevenfold Perspective” sniper rifle had become somewhat inadequate for his combat intensity.

It just so happened that this time he would be entering a near-future Science-Fiction Era where science and mechanical technology were highly developed. Rast planned to use this journey into the Nightworld to gradually shift toward the combat style of the Mechanists.

Compared to the clash of swords, commanding machines as a Mechanist was far more aligned with his personality.

He gathered his thoughts and returned to reality.

Rast stood before a pitch-black stele, the archaic script engraved upon the Epoch Tombstone coming into view.

Looking at this monument standing in the center of the Arcane Tower, he suddenly recalled what Sisel had once told him—the true foundation of the Gravekeepers organization. Once a Gravekeeper’s mark was etched upon it, they could return countless times from the River of Time—this was the “Eternal Night Stele”.

Now it seemed rather similar to this Epoch Tombstone used to enter the Final Nightworld within the Arcane Tower.

Even—what Dean Silver previously mentioned about that “fully immersive virtual reality game, wildly popular across the continent and based on historical backgrounds”—its form of existence was strikingly similar to the Nightworld.

The only difference was that the latter was far more real—so real that dying in the Nightworld meant dying in reality as well.

The Sixth Era, Gravekeepers, Shoreguards, Nightworld… all of it seemed too intricately connected, waiting only for him to uncover.

“In any case, all the intel I needed to collect has been gathered, and everything I needed to tell you has been said.”

“Acting as an informant these past few months really wore me out. I need a proper rest.”

“Little Rast, I’m not worried about you in the Nightworld. After all, you really are Nightworld’s favored son… But with you gone, who’s going to pay for my meals? Little Shiya and Little Tina are both terribly busy.”

Dean Silver’s voice sounded behind Rast, resembling a nagging mother sending her child off on a long journey.

“Sigh, you still refuse to carry a Phantasm Crystal. Now I can’t even watch your stream… With nothing to do, I’ll just end up sleeping at home again. Sigh, I was genuinely curious about that fully immersive game.”

“Well, since you’re so curious, why don’t you come into the Nightworld with me?”

Rast suddenly spoke, interrupting Dean Silver’s long sigh.

“Eh?”

Dean Silver paused, surprised. “But I’m just a snow ferret. The Nightworld doesn’t recognize me as a black night traveler—I’ve tried before.”

“Then try again. Just because it didn’t work before doesn’t mean it won’t work if you come with me.”

Rast smiled. “Didn’t you always say the Nightworld was my family business? So what if I want to bring a pet along?”

As he spoke, and before Dean Silver could answer, Rast had already picked up the still-bewildered little snow ferret without asking, grabbing fate by the scruff.

He reached out his other hand and touched the stele.

In the next moment, a veil-like night haze rippled before his eyes, enveloping both him and Dean Silver within.

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