I created the myth of the Great Old Ones.

Chapter 745 The Year of Blazing Fire

The tower still stands, but the flames have not yet been lit.

Something was missing, Jost thought, something pure, fundamental, something that went straight to the root.

There are three conditions for the existence of the Magic Network.

First, there is the agreement between the mage and the demon. This represents a contract and an oath; it is the law, the order, and the foundation of everything.

Secondly, there is knowledge—knowledge from great beings, the Great Old Ones, and ancient texts, and the magic derived from it—which is the source of everything.

Finally, there were the sacrificial offerings.

Bearing pollution, offering itself in eternal silence, a sacrifice of its own.

This is the continuation of everything.

At this moment, the players have signed an agreement and reached a consensus with the Magic Network, and the foundation has been laid.

Through Jost's ritual, that ancient knowledge will be poured into the magic network, becoming spells that everyone can master, with a long and rich history.

All that's missing is the offering.

Once the three conditions are met, Jost can immediately materialize the magic network. On this land of the Night Kingdom, everyone will have the opportunity to access the magic network. In an instant, the flames of the spirit torch will spread throughout the area, illuminating the deep night sky.

From this moment on, the Kingdom of Night will begin a history of struggle and sacrifice that will last for thousands of years. Countless people will die as a result, and countless others will be born in this struggle, opening their eyes to see this world.

The monstrous creatures surged in like a tidal wave, engulfing everything, destroying all things, and ravaging the world, blotting out the sun and making it seem as if one could smell the mingled scents of blood and fire in the air.

Jost stood at the very top of the tower, the very top of a tower that embodied the efforts of countless people, all in an attempt to challenge the unreasonable gods.

He was able to look down on the world and witness the suffering and struggles of this foreign land.

Ahead lay terrifying beasts, and behind them lay their crumbling homes.

it's time.

He realized that he already knew the answer, but making this decision required immense courage.

Because it is not just one person's sacrifice, but the sacrifice of countless people from now on.

Jost is capable of sacrificing his life at any time and in any form, just to save the world he loves, but he has no right to decide the sacrifices of others. What Jost is about to do is to be extremely arrogant, because he will decide the fate of thousands upon thousands of mages in the future.

Jost himself will be forever bound to this tower, witnessing all the sacrifices and deaths to come, until the end of the world.

In these final moments of his life, he could have given up everything and passed away peacefully, caring nothing for the deluge after his death.

But he didn't do that.

Jost stood atop the gray tower, at the empty top.

"Legend has it that powerful mages can leave a curse on the world when they die."

"The knowledge they possess transcends the limits of mortals; they elevate themselves, master the rules, and are even comparable to gods."

"Therefore, when they fall, their most hateful, most desperate, and most angry will will remain as a curse."

"There are lakes that contain countless pollutants; just seeing them is enough to drive anyone crazy."

“There is an ancient, ceaseless storm, raging and devastating, which wipes out all living things.”

"And there are towering, menacing towers that twist all the creatures around them, causing corruption to blossom and bear fruit."

Jost's vision had now transcended the present, encompassing everything from the emergence of civilization in this world to the distant future.

A nosebleed was silently trickling down; it was a sign that some kind of magic was about to be cast.

“I, Jost, the first chief mage of the Grey Tower, before I die, what I want to leave behind is not a curse, but a hope.”

Surrounding him, wisps of electricity surged, and a swirling storm formed a massive and chaotic vortex above his head, a force even demons feared.

He looked up, gazing at the crimson vortex that pierced through the clouds. He met the red moon's gaze, and at all those in this world—past, present, and future—who were trying to defy the gods.

Then he spoke.

"Agni the Firebringer, you once protected thirteen duchies with your own strength. Before the demonic tide, your brilliance was more intense than the sun. In the last moments when your reason remained, you chose to sacrifice yourself, reducing the original sixteen demonic tides to fourteen. The curse you left behind still lingers in the far north, a fire tornado that devours everything."

"Flora, the Unyielding Flower, the medicine you developed and improved saved a country from collapse during a great plague. Those enchanting flowers were once the nightmares that monsters feared most. When you walked the earth, white flowers once bloomed all over the Black Forest. Even your fall was incredibly tragic. The curse is the ever-growing crimson thorns in the deepest part of the Black Forest, which continue to eliminate monsters, just as it has for hundreds of years."

"Jansen, the creator of the question, the labyrinth magic you created still imprisons the lord of a demonic tide. You were the first to show humanity that those demons are not invincible. Even if they are weak, humans can still use their wisdom to fight them. Even after you perished, your curse became an insurmountable barrier for the demons."

As he spoke, he seemed to transcend time and space, engaging in dialogue with the great mages who had once walked the earth.

The most desperate, extreme, and indignant curses, along with a massive amount of knowledge powerful enough to erode his will, flooded into his brain.

"To all the mages of this world, I, Jost, hereby make a vow with you."

The light intertwined, forming a huge net, and at the very center of that net was him.

“I promise you that I will always respond to your prayers, as long as you are willing to reach out your hands.”

In the void, countless illusory hands reached out to him, some resolute, some panicked, some yearning, some angry, and prayers encompassing countless emotions flowed into his consciousness along the great net of interwoven light.

The first handshake is a final plea in despair, a struggling whisper in pain, a roar of anger. Whatever it may be, it represents a will: to believe in the existence of hope and to try to get closer to it.

In an instant, Jost's eyes, nose, mouth, and ears gushed blood, his skin turned red, white smoke billowed out, and some kind of blazing flame rose from beneath his skin.

Emotions and will are far more tormenting than knowledge. His eyes are now only crimson, and he is about to be stripped of his last vestiges of humanity, becoming a mark, an indelible existence.

So Jost reached out his hand to the prayers without any hesitation.

The second handshake is a response of not betraying, not letting down, and not ignoring anyone.

Jost bore the brunt of all the corruption brought by knowledge; those immense curses materialized and flowed into his body. Through this act, the will of the great mages of the Night Kingdom, who had been so proud throughout history, was gathered through that invisible giant net.

Some scoffed, some were moved to tears, some were bewildered, and some were full of ambition, but all the wills reached out to him without hesitation.

They all knew very well that choosing Jost was tantamount to imprisoning themselves. Their will would be eternally imprinted on the magic network. From now on, countless mages would pray to them, and the knowledge from other realms would be imprinted on their minds through the magic network, along with corruption.

They will bear all the pollution for the sake of the entire Night Kingdom, forever.

Even so, they still chose Jost.

Just like when I chose hope.

The spell is about to be completed the moment the two hands clasp together.

"pray……"

With his last breath, he spelled out the word, his entire body enveloped in pale flames.

The flame was weak and flickering in the gale, as if it would go out at any moment.

Sia quickly understood what he was going to do. She immediately closed her eyes and began to pray to the Gray Tower as if she were praying to the gods for magical gifts at midnight every day.

Seeing this, Twisted Fate also closed his eyes.

More people began to pray.

Players who once fought monsters naked in the flower bushes.

Players harvesting wheat in the fields, gazing at the golden waves of wheat.

Players are living a real life in the Kingdom of Night, battling iron lizards, building fortresses, and learning magic.

The townspeople, gripped by fear; the mages, fighting tenaciously; and the viewers from another world, watching the live stream on their computers.

Everyone began to pray.

Magic is the power of the mind.

A powerful mage must possess a powerful will.

The most powerful spells will inevitably carry the most steadfast prayers.

The countless, layered, and overwhelming prayers, like a tsunami, converged on the gray tower along the gradually dimming network.

The will to accept this fate, to become firewood, to ignite oneself, and to illuminate this dark world.

That was a promise, a contract, a vow.

In this darkest, most desperate, and most painful moment, they chose to believe in hope.

This is the third handshake.

Thus, the largest-scale magic spell in the history of the Night Kingdom was completed.

The pale flames atop the gray tower instantly blazed fiercely, their light piercing through the clouds, the crowds, and the dense swarms of demons.

It was only then that Xia finally understood why this year was known as the "Year of Burning Fire" in the history of the Night Kingdom.

From this moment on, magic is no longer a flower kept on a high shelf, but a power that everyone can access.

From this moment on, monsters are no longer an insurmountable source of despair, but enemies that can be fought against with a mortal body.

From this moment on, the glittering sky above the Kingdom of Night will no longer be filled with stars, but with one mage after another.

From this moment on, the Kingdom of Night will be plunged into a thousand-year-long bitter war and struggle, but those people who have suffered so much hardship and distress, those hardworking, brave, and self-reliant people, have never uttered the word "surrender" again.

From this moment on, the clarion call of resistance has been sounded, and humanity has ignited its own civilization.

Within that blazing torch, as intense as a heartbeat, Jost's voice pierced through space and time, reaching the ears of the culprit.

He said, "Fuck God!"

Chapter 746 Nobody Knows

The moment the magic network was successfully constructed, everyone in the Night Kingdom heard a booming sound.

The mages noticed that there were tangible threads in the air. These threads, made of light, spread from their chests and extended towards the infinitely distant sky, where they intertwined and formed a huge net.

In their minds, a flame appeared in the gloomy night, like a pale sun bringing a weak light to the earth.

Some knowledge surfaced in their minds; it was a contract.

This contract promises uncontaminated knowledge and power, but it also demands sacrifice and dedication.

Some monks hesitated, some were delighted, and some were at a loss.

But some people still chose to accept it.

They might be poor souls suffering from pollution and nearing the end of their lives, or they might be idealists with lofty aspirations, determined to save the world, or perhaps they simply want to grasp at the last glimmer of hope in this dark and hopeless world.

So the fire was lit.

In a fortress, a pale flame ignited on the body of a dying mage. The faint light did not scorch the surrounding things, but it suddenly illuminated the fortress.