The bard fantasized again.

Chapter 182 Death is not the end of life (5k views, please subscribe and vote!)

The bright yellow flames crackled as they burned the dry wood in the fireplace, and warmth spread to my damp, cold arms, evaporating the dew from my body hair.

The noise in my ears was clamor and laughter:
"Get the hell out of here with your lousy voice, and don't you dare ruin my drinking session!"

"If it weren't for the heavy rain outside, I would have taken the wine jug home and gone to sleep!"

"My grandma can't be bothered to listen to these old, outdated stories!"

Vulgar and chaotic.

Yet it can highlight the only living presence in the cold, dark night.

"Bang, bang!"

The stone felt someone banging on its table; the sound was both high-pitched and low-pitched.
"Aren't dwarves supposed to be great drinkers? This is nothing, how come you're already passed out so quickly? I thought drinking was your only strength—"

The sound seemed to be kicking at his latissimus dorsi muscles, forcing him to lift his head from his arm, which he was using as a pillow.

"The Star Plum Wine isn't even as strong as the Dwarf's liquor, so why didn't you get dizzy this quickly back in the North?"

As consciousness gradually returned, Shatter shook his somewhat dizzy head.

Turning back to look at the black-haired man with the braid, she finally realized that she had fallen asleep inside the golden oak tree.
"That's really weird, I don't feel anything today..."

he muttered.

"Drinking requires a feeling? Tilt your head back, drink, and then shout 'That feels good!' with gusto. What other feeling do you want? There are no brothels in Xingmei Town—where are you going to find a hairy woman to patronize?"

"Black Snake, I've never patronized a brothel!"

The gravel grumbled discontentedly.

He didn't dare to speak too loudly, lest the drunkards around him realize the truth.

But Black Snake couldn't help but lift his disheveled bangs, tuck them behind his head, and laugh loudly:

"Yes, that's right, of course I know. A two-hundred-year-old virgin who considers alcohol a companion, I don't need you to remind me!"

"Keep your fucking voice down!"

"There's nothing shameful about it. In a world rife with brothels, seeking pure love, I should raise a glass to you!"

It was impossible to tell whether Black Snake was being sarcastic or serious, but he still raised his glass to him.

Seeing that the pebbles were just staring at him with wide eyes, but made no move to clink glasses, he finally came to his senses.

"Damn it, what's wrong with you today? You can't get angry just because I teased you, I didn't even mention your height!"

"Now that you've said it—never mind, it's fine."

Shaking his groggy brain, he still clinked glasses with his wine, savoring the fruit wine dancing on his tongue while smacking his lips.

He tried to make himself appear more normal.

But to outsiders, the fact that dwarfs don't care about their height is itself quite bizarre—

Black Snake instinctively gripped the curved knife at his waist:

"Tell me, are you a shapeshifter or a phantom? Why are you impersonating Rock Smash? Where did you hide him?"

"Enough! Stop nagging me! I need some peace and quiet!"

The black snake downed the plum wine in its glass in one gulp.

"I need to think about it."

"You're a soldier, and soldiers should be simple-minded and physically strong. Don't do things that aren't suitable for you—thinking? What can you even think about?"

"I had a dream."

A pebble tapped on the table, and a moment later, a glass of plum wine was placed in front of him.
“I died in my dream. The feeling was so real, so indescribable. But in that instant, I had a sense of emptiness, like ‘so this is what death is like.’”

"What do you mean?" Black Snake frowned.

nothingness?

This is a fucking word that a drunkard would actually use.

There is a legend in Ironforge that when dwarves die in battle, their souls will forever rest in a feast of iron and wine.

You will cross the molten lava beneath the bronze furnace, and the Styx, flowing with molten iron, will cleanse you of the filth of your mortal world.

So you step into the feast, and the first thing you smell is the world's most potent fire dragon liquor, followed by the aroma of fire moss, spicy duck, and fried spicy potatoes.

Then you saw countless ancestors and heroic spirits. They sat at the head of the feast, drinking and reveling, sharing their past lives amidst dance and the aroma of wine, their souls intertwined, enjoying immortality.

"Ha, every race, even every profession, has its own legend. For example, the priest's version is that after death they go to heaven and stay with the gods forever."

But I've never believed in that—these legends always portray death as something beautiful, as if real life were so terrible, like a stagnant, murky pool.

The black snake pointed to itself again and shook its head.
"But is the reality really that bad? No, it's just that many people have too far-sighted views, which makes them too focused on the finish line and neglect the process."

This deprived them of the ability to observe beauty, leaving them with no choice but to place their hopes on the unseen gods.

So don't worry about it too much. It's just that we didn't see those heroes. It's not a big deal.

Besides, you're not really dead.

"But I really did see them."

"what?"

The black snake blinked.

"You're either dreaming..."

The gravel ignored his teasing, but frowned and pondered before saying:
"Those immortal old spirits sat at the highest point of the banquet, and greeted me warmly the moment they saw me."

Welcome, my child. You have endured many hardships and died a glorious death. At this moment, you must have many things to say—to pour out your precious life and then enjoy the eternal feast with us.

I was so excited! That spicy mountain duck with moss was making my mouth water, so I was eager to talk about it at length.

But when the words reached his lips, he couldn't utter a single one.

The gravel, indignant, drank plum wine heartily.
"What is it about Lao Tzu's life that is truly worth cherishing?"

"We've been on adventures together for ten years, isn't that enough of a precious memory for you?"

"Come on, Black Serpent. Before I met you guys, the longest I was in a team was twenty-seven years, until they went off to get married and have kids, disbanded their adventure team, and then I joined another team!"

"Twenty-seven years is enough to cherish, isn't it?"

"But that's just one of dozens of adventure teams I've been on! Taking on quests, completing quests, spending the money on drinks, and then squandering it all—it's all just repeating the same steps. What's so special about that?"

A short life has its own troubles.

Long life has its own troubles.

Black Serpent wasn't keen on empathizing with this dwarf, who was old enough to be his grandfather.

But he did see the confusion in the rubble:

"Since adventure isn't important to you, why have you persisted for so long? Why don't you wait until I die, go back to your hometown, and find something else to do?"

“Go back? No, no, I’m not going back.”

Are you wanted by Ironforge?

"How could that be! I just... I just don't know how to face my compatriots when I go back."

Just as he finished his drink, he found his glass had been refilled.

"For revenge, I left Ironforge when I was twenty. After finally achieving my goal, I looked back and realized I'd been wandering around for over a hundred years—"

Those giants trampled the village into ruins back then. Who would recognize me, and who would I recognize? My home is gone, so what's the point of going back?
Now you even have to shamelessly smile and fawn over those co-governing giants? You might as well just kill me.

"Nobody knows you, isn't that perfect?"

"What's so good about it?"

"Fortunately, we can start over."

The black snake's carefree smile faded, and he patted the dwarf's head.
"That's how you immortals are. You live too long and don't know the joys of life—Shaltie is the same way."

Those of us who die young know that no one can tolerate a life that never changes.

That's why we need to constantly experience and seize opportunities, so that we don't live in vain...

So you might as well go home after I die.

Try a different way of life, and then continue to try to enjoy life.

It's better than numbing my mind and masking my confusion with alcohol, like I am now.

The stone couldn't help but glance towards the bar, where a fiery red figure was bustling about:

"like you?"

The black snake lowered its two legs off the table and approached the gravel:
"What, are you envious?"

"What are you envious of? You envy a scumbag who abandoned his wife and daughter, only to change his mind when he was about to die, and who could only slink back and keep quiet, silently watching his daughter and fantasizing about a peaceful life, right?"

"you're right."

The black snake did not refute him, but simply said,
"I'm scum, I'm an asshole, and I deserve to be punished. But you're not, are you?"

Perhaps your home was trampled by giants and disappeared a hundred years ago.

But as hatred fades, haven't you actually come to accept all of this?

Now that we've let go of the past, we should embrace a brand new future.

On his journey home, he will pursue another girl he likes, start a new family, and turn the page to the next chapter.

Finally, find your own happiness.

"Does it have to be a girl?"

"If you want to find a man, I have no objection."

"Fuck you, of course I like the opposite sex. I mean—why get married and have kids? What's the point?"

As a complete novice, Shattered Stone had many questions about this, so he muttered,
"Why are you humans so obsessed with unleashing your animalistic instincts and with reproduction?"

"You said it yourself, it's just animalistic instincts and desires."

"What's the difference between this boring thing and drinking?" "Okay, to convince you, I can give you a more profound reason—it can make us short-lived people look like we live longer."

"Don't fucking fool me."

"I am not kidding."

The black snake put its arm around the shoulder of the rubble.
"Death is not the end of life."

"Huh? Then what counts as the end?"

"Forgetting is the answer."

Black Snake also took a sip of plum wine and pointed in the direction of the beautiful figure.
“Ever since I returned to Xingmei Town and realized the day her mother passed away, I’ve been thinking about what that child means to me.”
A relative I've never met? An enemy who hates my father? Or a complete stranger?
I was confused about this, and I tried to run away from it, but when I saw her toss her long hair, which was as long as her mother's, and reveal the same bright smile, all my guesses vanished.

For a moment, I felt as if she had never left me.

This made me realize that the child was like a continuation of her life.

"But memories fade over time. For example, I can no longer remember what the woman next door looked like before I left the village."

"Yes, memories fade, and we too will eventually be forgotten by history and the world, just like that lost ancient kingdom in the vast desert."

Black Snake nodded in agreement, but showed no regret whatsoever.
"Just as we still discover the ruins of ancient kingdoms, our bloodline has also left its mark on this world—doesn't that prove that we have been here before?"

"Damn, that sounds kind of right."

Shattered Stone felt he was truly being persuaded by the black snake.
"If your soul doesn't turn into a rabbit or an ant, experiencing that kind of life wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

"What do you mean?"

A pebble tapped on the table, but no one came to pour the beer; the glasses were already filled with offal stout.
Did you know that before a person dies, they might recall their past life?

Black Snake raised an eyebrow, understanding his sentiment:

"So you're already dead. Not in a dream—how did you die?" the black snake asked curiously.

“They starved to death.” Sui Shi’s face darkened.

Can I laugh?

"Didn't you already laugh?"

"..."

The two looked at each other and almost simultaneously burst into tears of laughter.

“Cut off his goatee! Who the hell would have thought that after more than two hundred years of adventures, the thing I remember most is the conversation I had with you that night we were drinking?”

"Doesn't this prove that the [Sandalwood Forest's henchmen] hold a far greater place in your heart than those twenty-seven years?"

"Ha, I'm going to die anyway, what's wrong with admitting it?"

He drank the strong liquor down his throat, then let out a cold snort.
"Anyway, you can't hear me."

"why?"

"Because you died before me!"

"Damn it, I shouldn't have asked that question."

The black snake sighed, but merely shrugged, appearing completely unconcerned.

Actually, it was because Shattered Stone thought he wouldn't care.

It would be difficult for him to understand a human being in ten years.

Unless the person is pure enough.

“But I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you,” the black snake suddenly said.

The gravel hesitated and asked, "Can you really come back to life?"

But he quickly denied it with a sneer.

What he sees before him are his memories, reflecting his subconscious thoughts, but they cannot represent reality.

"not me."

Black Snake glanced towards the gate.

"Do you know that memories at the moment of death are like a constantly flickering glass lamp?"

"I've heard of that saying."

"At this point, time is the least valuable thing. Just like for you, those two hundred years are just a snap of the fingers in reality."

"What's the point of dying sooner or later?"

"So even if we seem to have drunk so many glasses of wine and wasted so much time, in reality it's only less than a minute for you."

"One minute?"

He is a seasoned adventurer.

Therefore, it is very clear what this minute represents.

So much so that, in his hesitation, a cold wind suddenly rushed into the warm tavern, chilling him to the bone and gradually stiffening his limbs:

"Cut off his goatee! Which blind bastard opened the door?!"

He noticed his once strong arms were shrinking with the biting cold wind, but his roar still managed to wake the drunken jackals at the table—

"You brat, we've already given you one chance, but you've messed it all up!"

The shouts and curses sounded familiar, like everything he had ever experienced.

But unlike what he remembered, the man, covered in mud, wearing a tattered leather jacket, and whose footsteps dripped rainwater onto the wooden floor, ignored everyone's shouts and curses and walked straight toward him.

"The story shouldn't have gone this way..."

Suspicion gripped the stone, and it instinctively took a step back, only to be grabbed by the collar by the soaking wet man.

"Who the hell told you to die?"

"what?"

The man slapped the man in the face with a shard of stone.

What should have been a searing pain was instead enveloped by a damp, cold sensation, making him only able to hear the man's curses:
"You still owe me a favor, you're not going to try to renege on it, are you?"

Then I advise you not to wake up, because I'll write 'Creator Stone' behind every dwarf joke.

I'd rather people think of Don Qi Weinberger as just a joke, than have your name etched into the book of racial hatred and condemned for eternity!

"Fuck you!"

The stone fragment flew into a rage and tried to jump up and hit the man on the head.

But the sharp pain in his chest and the convulsions in his stomach at the same time forced him to stop.

"It seems someone doesn't want you to just fall into a deep sleep like this."

The soft laughter beside his ear drew Shi's gaze, making him look in the direction of the black snake.

This guy still had that same颓废 (颓废 is a difficult word to translate directly, but it implies a state of listlessness, apathy, or decadent) look with his legs propped up on the table.

But then, as if letting out a long sigh of relief, he placed his hands behind his head:

"Let me not need to guide your soul, to ferry you across."

It gives you the opportunity to start a new chapter.

So, why don't you give it a try?

The rubble knew that this was all the time they had left.

But in his final moments, he did not inquire about his own situation.

Instead, he laughed heartily:
"By the way, do you want to know how you died?"

"Do not want to."

Black Snake would definitely say that.

But that doesn't mean he really doesn't want to listen.

"You died in Catherine's embrace."

'Bastard Dad'.

That's what she said.

"Is there something else she has to say?" He would definitely ask that.

"of course."

Just as the pebbles were about to speak, the feeling of floating in the warm ocean vanished instantly.

His body grew heavier and heavier, as if a hand was tugging at his clothes, trying to drag him into an abyss.

Breathing also became blocked.

It felt like being in the deep sea.

But as far as he could see, on the rippling water, he knew that the dejected man had clearly read his lips and received the message—

Tang Qi dragged him back to the surface from the 'deep sea'.

The dwarf opened his eyes, only to see a blinding light that seemed poised to pierce them—

That was the glow of the Ring of Glory.

His sluggish mind prevented him from thinking carefully about what was happening before his eyes.

They could only passively accept the facts.

Tang Qi's hand gently patted his shoulder:

"Welcome home."

They said it at the same time.

(End of this chapter)