Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 714, Section 82. The Fisherman's Last Wish: To Use My Ashes as Bait to Catch More Fierce Fish - Bonus Chapter [15]

(Bonus chapter for the "Overseas Lingjinggan" brother [1/5])
Denathrius the Great claimed that he had finished speaking his last words, but Diakum did not believe him at all.

This guy definitely has a lot on his mind, but he doesn't intend to tell the "perpetrators" his true thoughts, which is quite frustrating.

As the Emperor said, He was not a fool; He had his own dignity and therefore absolutely did not want His true last words to be used by others as gossip.

This person is a very sensitive and noble individual; he only speaks his innermost thoughts to his successor.

But the two questions posed by the Emperor did indeed leave Diakum and Sachirgan speechless.

It's not that the vigilant and the molder didn't want to answer; it's just that the two questions this guy raised were no longer simply "business-related" questions. They had risen to the level of philosophical debate on "purpose and process" and "acceptance and resistance."

As we all know, philosophical questions have no right answers.

So, the Great Emperor pulled a trick before he died. He used two questions to shut down Diakum and Sachir's inquiries, thus making them spend their last moments with Him and His child.

As Prince Renasol, trembling all over, stepped onto the highest level of Castle Nathria in the blinding dawn light that was blinding to the Venthyr, Diakum and Sachil gracefully retreated to a position where they could not overhear the conversation.

“Go ahead, don’t be afraid, your father just wants to talk to you.”

As Prince Renasol's "court tutor," Sachiel, leaning on the terrifying spinal scythe that still echoed with Balnazzar's screams, gave him a kind and gentle reminder:
"It's the last minute, so don't hold back. Speak your mind. Just now, I suddenly realized that your father must have had a tough time too, and the lessons He will impart to you today will be very important for your future rule."

"Ah."

Prince Renasol nodded.

He left his soul-sharp blade, Vopalia, where he stood, then straightened his clothes and stepped forward, kneeling beside his father who was basking in the sunlight, looking at him with eyes filled with regret, pain, and helplessness.

It was like a repeat of the death of the eldest daughter.

Denathus's body had lost all the glory of the eternal, turning into the strange metallic structure of his "factory settings," but out of some obsessive pursuit of appearance, he used his last bit of mental energy to maintain the appearance of his face.

However, the smile that always wore a fake one was gone, replaced by a calm.

It has a chilling calm.

He seemed to have foreseen this defeat and thus prepared himself mentally in advance, so that he could maintain the demeanor of an eternal being in the final moments and not show exaggerated crying or emotional fluctuations in front of his children.

"You did very well."

"Ok?"

Prince Renasol looked up abruptly, wondering if he had misheard.
but no.

The Emperor did not open his eyes, letting his long white hair sway behind his pointed ears, and he repeated:

“You did a great job. You didn’t rush forward and seek outside help. Even after confirming that you had a sufficient advantage, you did not choose to step into the limelight, but continued to stay behind the scenes to manipulate the situation.”

You found those subjects who were dissatisfied with my rule and united them around you. Most importantly, you knew how to use people well, placing those subjects who were good at their respective tasks in the positions they deserved.

You used intimidation and promises to thwart any possible reinforcements I might receive, and you kept yourself constantly in a safe position.

This palace coup was perfect.

Even if I were to do it, I couldn't possibly do it any better than you. As it turns out, my son is better than I imagined.

You just lacked some experience before, which doesn't mean you were unfamiliar with Wenshire's way of doing things.

I no longer need to worry that you will be unable to control everything in Revendreth after I leave. I can finally be sure that Revendreth will enjoy long-term stability under your rule, and the reconquest of Ash Wastes will even make you a more outstanding 'King of Venthyr' than I am.

However."

The emperor opened his eyes.

Those bloodshot eyes looked at their child with a complex expression.

Renathor is different from other Venthyrs, who were created by the Emperor from redeemed souls using sinful magic and his own power, including the Stonesmiths.

But Renasol was "created" by the Emperor himself.

This prince is truly a descendant of the emperor.

He inherited many things from Emperor Denathrius. This succession was not a "father and son" in the traditional sense, but considering the special nature of the life forms of the Eternals, there is no problem in regarding Renasol as Denathrius's successor.

Renathall was not born a god, but in the creation of the Emperor, he was indeed more deserving of inheriting everything from the Emperor than any other Venthyr in Revendreth.

Upon closer examination, did the Emperor really need to infuse his core power into the Medal of Sin and bestow it upon the seven Sin Reapers?

Not necessarily.

If it were merely to consolidate power, there would be no need for Him to divide up the core strength. Such an act would be sacrificing one's own power to strengthen others, and it is absolutely not a choice that a selfish leader would make.

However, if we consider that the emperor wants his son to inherit his position in the future, then this division of power makes sense.

Renasol was not a god created by the Firstborn. He could only inherit everything left by his father by completing the foundational formation through this power, and then embark on the path of power cultivation like mortals, until one day in the future he would become a true lesser god of death.

That's right.

After the death of Emperor Denathrius, the path of forgiveness he left behind could no longer lead to the realm of the true god, a power that only the Firstborn could bestow.

"However, do you really realize what kind of mess you're inheriting? Do you really understand what kind of burden you're taking on? Are you really prepared?"

The Emperor asked wearily, and Renasol shook his head.

This is the most remarkable quality of this Prince of Winshire.
He would never pretend to know something he didn't know; if he didn't know, he simply didn't know. No one is omniscient or omnipotent, so there's nothing to be ashamed of. What's truly pathetic is pretending to know what you don't and making a show of ignorance.

He was cunning yet also very honest, which was the complete opposite of Thénardier.

Faced with his son's inquisitive eyes, the emperor felt a little helpless.

He sighed and said:

“Go ask them, ask the murderer who killed your father. I told them everything, but there are some things I didn’t tell them.”

My attitude towards destiny is indeed not as nonchalant as I appear.

I loathe these shackles, and I loathe even more the First Ones for placing me in this life that I have absolutely no control over.

Being born a god is not a happy thing for me, my child.

Just as the First Creator meticulously shaped our bodies, wove our personalities, infused us with wisdom, and endowed us with strength. They carefully crafted this most beautiful cradle in the universe for us, and then…
They just left us on the street in the dead of winter, amidst heavy snow, and walked away.

The Shadowlands.

It's about the First Ones' unfinished experiment with 'perfect order,' which they weren't even interested in completing, and simply left this mess for us.

It is euphemistically called believing in the wisdom of those being shaped.
Ah, but if I am born to be an evil person, if I am born to live my life according to the Creator's design and plan, if I cannot control my life, then I would rather die.

Prince Renasol knelt to one side, and after his father finished speaking his resentful words, he whispered:
"I'm sorry, Father, I don't quite understand. I may not be as clever as you to see through everything, but what has driven me to this point is definitely not the desire for power!"
I know you enjoy hosting parties, but every time you smile, it doesn't mean you're actually happy. You probably won't find a more irritable Winswell in all of Revendres.

Perhaps it is precisely this dissatisfaction that led you down this wrong path.

"mistake?"

The emperor stared at his son.

He said:

"You think it's wrong for me to rebel against and destroy destiny? You think we should just accept being trapped in this flawed system?"

“But you have destroyed destiny; how will order be established afterward?” Renasol said.
“I have been learning from you since I was born. You have told me that I must plan carefully before I act, but do you really have a plan? You keep saying that you want to rule over the dead and the living, but I see no action from you in this regard!”

No one knows you better than me!

If you are truly interested in something, you will do everything you can to take the initiative, rather than pushing everything onto your allies.

Just as you are fond of intrigue to relieve your distress, you send Nathrezim to infiltrate the six realms and the material sea. You spend all night in the palace reviewing that intelligence and issuing a series of instructions.

That's when you're truly interested.

I don’t know how deep your collaboration with Zovar is, but the problem is that you’re just destroying things while leaving all the rebuilding to Zovar.

You have no interest in rebuilding, and you have no interest in ruling.

You can't fool me! You're just content to be a destroyer…

Renasol's tone was agitated, but the Emperor chose to remain silent.

He had no intention of answering the question, and clearly had little interest in revealing his true soul to others and allowing them to point fingers at him.

But the fact that it wasn't denied already speaks volumes.

Renasol smiled.

He grasped his father's now-cold, mechanical fingers and said:
"This system certainly has its problems, but we only have one Shadow Kingdom to survive, Father! You destroyed it, so where will the dead go?"

Most importantly, if you feel something isn't perfect, shouldn't you try to make it perfect instead of destroying it and eagerly anticipating the next item you get?

Just as in your eyes, I am not perfect, far from perfect, but you patiently teach me, expecting me to grow instead of destroying me and reshaping me into a new me.

You don't really want to destroy the destiny of the Shadowlands, you just...
You're just too disappointed to even try again, right?

The invasion of holy light in ancient times was one of your attempts, wasn't it?

I do not believe that the Nathrezim, which you created by your own hand, would be foolish enough to be discovered by the Naaru during its infiltration, because I have learned about the 'Redeemer' Loksasen from Saint Diakum.

It turns out that the Nathrezim can perfectly integrate into the Holy Light. Therefore, their initial 'mistake' must have been intentional. You wanted to draw the Holy Light to impact Destiny so that you and the other Eternals could glimpse a possibility of change.

But their reaction will disappoint you.

That's why you chose to cooperate with Zovar.

Look, Father, it's not that I don't understand how intrigue works, but that I don't use underhanded tactics. I just feel that if we want something, we should take action ourselves instead of placing all our hopes on others.

I am not criticizing you.

I just want to reassure you that your son will definitely turn the tide and one day I will become another you.

The second generation of the Pardoner, free from constraints and coercion, whose heart is no longer filled with anger and resentment, and who is able to live a peaceful life.

You are immortal.

You will eventually see the day I reach the summit.

"Then let me see."

Emperor Denathrius could no longer maintain his final glory. As the last trace of sinful anima dissipated, his face completely transformed from that of an emperor into a mechanical skull. The crimson anima of forgiveness was also pushed into his son's chest with the emperor's last strength, causing Renathrius to collapse to the ground in an instant.

Sachiel rushed over, trying to take Renasol away, but the legacy of the true god transformed into crimson lightning, making it impossible for him to get close.

The blood-red reflection of the River of Sin appears and disappears on the horizon, seemingly witnessing the transformation and transmission of the power of the Forgiver.

In his final moments, the Emperor said:

"What do you intend to do with me?"

Diakum and Sachiel exchanged a glance. As Sachiel's call for King's Mourning slowly rose, the Vigilant asked softly:
Have you ever heard of a 'fisherman'?

"Ok?"

------

When Kintesa, the leader of Nathrezim and a female dreadlord, opened her eyes, she was greeted by a shattered, dim dome. She moved her body with difficulty and then felt pain all over her body.

Her memory was chaotic; the last thing she saw before losing consciousness was herself being swallowed by the darkness of the solar eclipse, and all she could do was scream in despair.

She felt like a desperate drowning person who experienced a period of amnesia before being rescued.

Just as he was about to get up with difficulty, he was pressed down by another dreadlord next to him.

"Tychdios? What are you doing here?"

Kim Tae-sa said in surprise:
“You were clearly not summoned to the Shadowlands by your father, and if I remember correctly, you were banished to the Sea of ​​No Light by those cruel Shadow Chasers under Diakum’s command, and there has been no news of you since then.”

What is this?

The Fear of Women did not continue speaking.

Because she suddenly realized a terrifying possibility regarding her current hiding place.
"Yes, we are in the Sea of ​​No Light."

After his female comrades fell silent, Tichondrius casually revealed the truth.

It still had the same demon king appearance, but its wings were now adorned with a deep halo in addition to the green light, and the crystals on its claws had changed from fel energy to more ferocious shadow claw blades. The creature was surrounded by faint whispers of the abyss.

This means that he has already transformed his Force form into the void.

"Should we thank you for saving me from Sachiel, or should we hate you for dragging me into the abyss of the void?"

Kim Tae-sa sighed:

"So, you've been hiding among us all along, haven't you?"

"That's not the point. The point is what we should do next."

In his Void form, Tichondrius appeared much more profound, speaking concisely:
"The Shadowlands are no longer our homeland. The Stonesmith and her Stoneborn will not let us go. It will be difficult for the Burning Legion to return. The fall of Sachiel makes it difficult for us to continue to hold high positions in the Legion."

However, all of these difficulties can be overcome.

The biggest problem now is that my father is sealed within the King's Mourning, and I've received some news.
Diakum intends to send the King's Sorrow to the Holy Light Realm and seal it in the material world.

There's no need to doubt the accuracy of this news; I personally witnessed Diakum summoning the Platinum Naaru when I rescued you from the eclipse.

She will soon set off to return to the Sea of ​​Matter.

So, here's the question.

"The Abyss Demon Lord" Tichondrius looked at Kintaesa with a subtle gaze, and said, shrouded in the shadowy darkness that concealed her:

"That fool Banazzar has ruined himself at the hands of Sachiel. I am gathering the other Fear Lords. We must find a way to reclaim Father's Sealed Demon Blade. Only under Father's leadership can the Nathrezim rise again in the Sea of ​​Matter and find a place to live."

This operation is dangerous.

It's even highly likely to be a trap to lure us in.

Alas, there was a time when Diakum couldn't catch a single fish in a calm river, but now he can devise such a scheme.

He's the angler, and we're the fish; we seem to have no choice. So, should we bite?

(End of this chapter)