Magical Girl's Knight Brother

Chapter 730 The Path of the Mirror God

come down.

Eternal, endless...fall.

They have no sense of direction, no sense of time, and even... no sense of space.

There was only... an unfathomable, all-consuming... absolute darkness.

But this darkness is not nothingness; it is... alive, it is fluid.

Langya is the only anchor and ray of light in this pure nothingness.

The dark blue chaotic core burned to its limit, like a candle flickering in the wind, yet stubbornly illuminating the fleeting fragments of road beneath the wheels, composed of pure spatial debris.

The roar of the engine was heart-wrenching, yet it was also the only evidence of Tang Zijun's existence in this deathly silence.

However, what this light and sound can illuminate and resist is only the tip of the iceberg of the abyss of despair.

Tang Zijun's consciousness was like a small boat in a raging sea, enduring an impact he had never imagined in his life.

In his perception—or rather, in the pitiful cognition he forcibly maintained, based on the logic of reality—the surroundings were not empty; on the contrary, they were a boiling, distorted, and blasphemous ocean of information.

An endless stream of information—if it can still be called "information"—carries pollution that could drive even the gods mad, howling past like a cosmic storm.

They present an indescribable form.

It could be a snowflake that flashes and vanishes in an instant, composed of countless rotating geometric paradoxes. Just glimpsing a corner of it is enough to completely overload and spasm the part of the brain that is trying to build a three-dimensional model!

It could be a melody that suddenly bursts forth, a mixture of the dying cries of billions of living beings and inorganic electronic noise, forcibly injected into the auditory nerves, attempting to rewrite all understandings of the concept of "sound".

It could be a sudden, intense scent, a mixture of rust, decaying flowers, and cold stars, that directly affects the depths of the soul, triggering intense physical and mental aversion.

Even more terrifying were those... flickering points of light, distorted lines, and even... watching him as if they were living beings.

The flowing colors themselves.

They are not eyes, but they carry a more direct and colder cognitive intent than eyes. Every brief contact of their gaze is like a cold torrent carrying countless chaotic, crazy, and blasphemous concepts, rushing into Tang Zijun's core consciousness along the optic nerve, trying to wash away, rewrite, and format everything about him as "Tang Zijun".

Logic is collapsing, vocabulary is crumbling, and all rational cognition and linguistic expression seem so pale, ridiculous, and even... a kind of blasphemy in the face of this chaos.

Tang Zijun's every breath became incredibly difficult, and he forced himself not to linger on any one scene for more than a moment.

He frantically focused his consciousness, concentrating all his willpower into a single core—"I am Tang Zijun"—like clinging desperately to the only piece of driftwood in a raging storm, resisting the pervasive erosion that was trying to break him down into a chaotic stream of information.

For a long time, he felt that he had completely disappeared.

Consciousness was torn into billions of pieces, floating in this chaotic ocean, about to merge into that eternal madness; he couldn't even distinguish the boundary between "I" and "not-I".

But... there's another connection.

A faint yet incredibly resilient connection, like an umbilical cord... links him to Langya.

Langya's consciousness was very simple, even dull.

It could not comprehend the unimaginable chaos surrounding it.

In its pure mind, there is only the simple execution of commands and loyalty to its master: move forward, carry its master, protect its master, and destroy anything that stands in its way.

It lacks complex logical thinking and abstract cognitive abilities, and therefore lacks those abstract cognitive conflicts that trigger madness.

The world it perceives is chaotic and disordered, but precisely because of this, it is protected from the erosion of abstract, conceptual madness.

The impact of abstract blasphemous concepts on it is far less than its ability to resist physical attacks.

Langya knew that ahead lay the goal, the direction her master needed. Even though the world she perceived was chaotic and disordered, the direction she perceived was clear—it was the direction her master perceived. Her master's perception was the only true direction. Her master's perception was her perception, her master's will was her will, her master's goal was her goal, and her master's enemy was her enemy.

It was Langya's pure and powerful loyalty, which made it unable to perceive the madness of its surroundings, that made it Tang Zijun's only refuge.

Tang Zijun could clearly sense Langya's presence. It existed in a pure energy form, surrounding its core. Its existence, its energy characteristics, and its will were like a lighthouse in a dark storm for Tang Zijun, providing her with a sense of direction.

The existence of Langya is characterized by its constant energy, regardless of how unpredictable the surrounding environment may be.

Tang Zijun could sense its loyalty and focus... its energy properties remained constant, regardless of how unpredictable the surrounding environment was... no matter how raging the storm, no matter how turbulent the darkness... no matter how unpredictable the world it perceived was...

No matter how ever-changing the perceived world may be... no matter how the perceived world changes... although the perceived world is ever-changing... the perceived world is always changing... but its energy properties remain constant...

Perceive, perceive, perceive...

Chaos! Disorder! Blasphemy! Madness! Incomprehensible! Indescribable! Unknowable!

Tang Zijun's consciousness was like a speck of dust swept into a cosmopolitan particle collider, churning, tearing, and reassembling wildly in an endless, illogical torrent of information.

Every time we perceive the outside world, it brings a violent impact on our own foundation.

Those shimmering geometric paradoxes, the cacophony of noise, the foul-smelling abstract concepts, the cold gaze... like billions of invisible chisels, frantically sculpting the outline of his existence, trying to mold him into a part of this chaos.

In the endless, chaotic, and seemingly randomly surging torrent of information...

Behind that frenzied dance of shimmering paradoxes, distorted lines, flowing colors, jarring noises, and foul odors...

It transcends all logic, all rationality, and all frameworks of human cognition...

It seems... there is a... pattern...

That's not a mathematical law, not a physical law, and not even a law that the word "law" itself can describe.

It is a... deeper, colder, more absolute... mode of existence, a... cold logic that uses chaos itself as the basic unit for infinite permutations and combinations.

The feeling is extremely subtle, like seeing a trace of...structural symmetry in a billion wildly swirling snowflakes? Catching a trace of...repeating rhythm in a chorus of billions of jarring noises? Smelling a trace of...constant coldness in a mixture of billions of foul odors?

This pattern is not clearly visible; it is more like an intuition, a kind of insight beyond perception that arises from his identity as a transmigrator, from his fusion with the core of the Greedy One, and from his highly concentrated will under the protection of Langya.

It does not depend on sight, hearing, or any other senses.

It acts directly on existence itself.

This pattern is the greatest madness, because it proves that at the bottom of this seemingly absolutely chaotic abyss... there exists an absolute, cold, inhuman... will entity, an ultimate logic that uses chaos as a tool, as a language, and as a mode of existence.

And it is precisely at the core of this "law," the source of this cold logic, this order that controls all chaos... that exudes an indescribable yet incredibly clear sense of presence.

It's right ahead.

Deeper, darker, and more central.

Om-! ! !

The chaotic core of Langya instantly erupted with unprecedented light.

The engine roared to the level of an ancient behemoth's ultimate roar. It didn't need to understand its master's insights; it only needed to execute its master's will and move forward.

Tang Zijun's bloodshot eyes no longer tried to see the maddening scene around her.

He closed his eyes, focusing all his perceptions, all his will, and all the power of existence on a single point to lock onto the core of that law, the source of that cold logic, and the primordial will of that nightmare.

He no longer resisted the onslaught of information, but instead transformed himself into the sharpest spear of will, guided by the cold, hard laws he had captured...

Towards that perceived dark core, radiating an ultimate sense of existence...

He stabbed it fiercely.

The fall continues.

The darkness remained boundless.

The madness continues to rage.

But in that endless abyss of chaos, a crystalline ray of light, embodying all will and hope, finally found its way.

Towards that all-consuming ultimate darkness... a final... mental projection was launched—

call--!

Like a drowning person suddenly pulled out of the water, a long-lost solid sensation came from under the wheels.

Tang Zijun almost instinctively twisted the handlebars sharply, and the Langya whistled. The wheels rubbed and slid on some extremely strange ground, leaving a long mark before coming to a steady stop.

The engine's low growl sounded exceptionally clear in the deathly silence.

Tang Zijun gasped for breath, slowly raising her head, the crimson light beneath the shattered mask struggling to focus.

The sight before him made him hold his breath instantly.

A desolate, eerily silent black plain!

The ground was not soil or rock, but a black, scaly substance that looked like the dried, cracked remains of a giant, decaying creature.

Each scale was enormous, with sharp edges, radiating a cold, viscous texture that seemed to absorb all light. The sky had no stars, no sun or moon, and not even the concept of a sky. There was only a solidified, enormous, chaotic, dark curtain, as if painted with cheap paint, displaying a nauseating color that resembled a mixture of dark red and deep purple viscous.

An invisible, heavy pressure pressed down on every inch of space as if it were a physical entity.

Dead silence.

Absolute silence.

But the moment Tang Zijun saw this scene clearly, her heart felt as if it had been gripped tightly by an icy hand.

He...has been here!

Fragments of memory pierced the chaotic consciousness like lightning.

It wasn't through a long path of annihilation, nor by paying a huge price.

Instead, just as he was beginning to grasp the concept of the dream world and was still confused about the truth behind the Tree of Life and Sir Skeleton, he was unexpectedly "pulled" into this place in an ordinary dream.

At the time, he thought it was just an absurd nightmare.

But now, he has actually returned here through the most difficult and impossible means?

"This...this doesn't make sense..."

Tang Zijun's voice was dry and hoarse, filled with intense confusion and an instinctive doubt.

The accidental entry he made back then and his arrival now, after paying everything, create an absurd and terrifying contrast. Could it be that his dream back then was not a coincidence? Could there be some kind of essential connection between him and this place that he has never been aware of?

Suppressing her surging thoughts, Tang Zijun forced herself to calm down and observed the strange plain more carefully.

Desolate and lifeless, the black soil, like scales, stretched to the horizon, seemingly without end.

However, not far from him, several items were scattered carelessly on the black soil, like discarded garbage, standing out starkly against the desolate backdrop.

That is...

Yes, mirror core.

Several mirror cores, each with a different shape, but now all had lost their luster, as dull and lifeless as dusty gray stones.

They were carelessly discarded there, some half-buried in the black, scaly soil, others exposed to the air, their surfaces covered with fine cracks, as if they would shatter completely at the slightest touch.

Not just mirror cores, but also dark crystals, emerald crystals...

"In the end, I returned to this chaotic graveyard of evil beings."

He slowly got out of the car, his footsteps treading on the cold, eerie, scaly black soil, producing a tooth-grinding, slightly cracking sound, as if he were stepping on dry bones, as he walked toward the dim mirror cores.

Just as he got close.

Buzz!

The entire desolate black plain suddenly trembled.

It wasn't a physical vibration, but a vibration at the level of existence, as if a sleeping, unimaginable behemoth had been disturbed.

The space in front of Tang Zijun suddenly distorted.

A viscous, almost solid substance surged out of the mirror core, churning, condensing, and deforming... until finally... it formed a blurry outline that could barely be identified as human...

However, the moment Tang Zijun's crimson gaze beneath the shattered mask met the gaze of two slowly glowing eyes, like burning black holes, within the dark silhouette.

Time seemed to stand still.

There was no attack, no energy burst.

There is only one kind of resonance and cognitive collapse originating from the deepest part of the soul.

Tang Zijun's pupils suddenly contracted to their maximum size.

He recognized those eyes.

The coldness, indifference, and scrutiny in his eyes... and that deep-seated, indelible trace of... weariness...

A complex, almost inexplicable sense of familiarity, like looking at a reflection in a mirror...

"You, you are..."

Tang Zijun suddenly raised her head.

Among the several discarded, dim mirror cores... one of them, engraved with extremely ancient runes that seemed to record the trajectory of stars... flickered very faintly.

A thin, almost imperceptible thread, seemingly composed of pure starlight, floated out from the mirror core and gently wrapped around Tang Zijun's fingers holding the golden trident.

A cool, pure thought, yet carrying endless vicissitudes and weariness, flowed into Tang Zijun's consciousness instantly along the thread of starlight.

"...Finally...it's here..."

"...Successor..."

"...Pick me up..."

"—.End...this endless...cycle...."

This thought...

It actually belongs to... the Mirror God!?

That legendary, primordial Mirror God, who was said to have been completely annihilated!