Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

"It came far too fast," the prophet shuddered.

"The only way is through battle." The Dominator rose up in determination.

"It's all too late." The scholars gave up knowingly.

"But there must still be a glimmer of hope, right?" The survivors gathered here, fighting to the very end.

At that moment, the gods and humans reconciled, and the heroes were no longer obsessed with their own desires.

Countless mutants, carrying malice toward the world, emerged from the sea, and tens of thousands of sails gathered like clouds.

With the gods leading the way, humanity launched its charge.

The blood of God transformed into fine wine, to bid farewell to heroes; the bones of men became steps, paving the way for faint hopes.

The blood-red setting sun cast its crimson afterglow on the Sea of ​​Oceanus. As the sea surged, the eerie red tide seemed to pile up endless corpses, and countless souls picked up their heads, letting out unwilling roars.

Finally, the ship broke through this desolate sea, reached the end of the white terror, shot down the world-destroying god, and allowed these insignificant beings to continue their pathetic civilization.

As dusk deepened, the wind blew even more fiercely.

The white-haired girl tightened her embrace around the golden lamb, her crimson eyes gradually losing their light as memories drifted away.

Darkness, deathly silence; the world felt so small and desolate.

Ten years, a hundred years, a thousand years...

He felt as if he were inside a chaotic stone chamber, a prisoner in eternal solitude.

Until, a beam of light shone into the dark, sunless cave.

"Thanks to the guidance of the Eternal Heaven, I have finally found you, the king whose oracle foretold the revival of the Hunnic people..."

The middle-aged shaman, with his dry, cracked skin and braided hair, knelt excitedly inside the naturally formed stone temple, bowing to the girl who had awakened from eternal solitude.

However, the girl lost all her memories, including her own name and origins.

The shamans named the girl "Attila" and accepted her into the Hunnic tribe.

However, the girl disliked the sound of the name and would always complain, wanting a name that sounded cuter, such as "Attila".

Each time the tribe's shaman aged from middle age to old age heard her protest, he would always laugh and say, "Here we go again?" without commenting. In his increasingly cloudy eyes, there was always a light that a young girl could not understand.

Warmth, pampering, care, and some other inexplicable things...

Attila was revered as a born warrior. With an incredible growth rate, he quickly defeated a host of challengers and became the tribal chief who led the warriors. With a minor change in the syllables of his name, no one could stop him anymore.

Because the person who named her is no longer here.

His successors were the young shamans who entered the stone chamber and brought the girl back to the tribe.

However, by then, he was no longer young...

Human life is so short and so fragile.

The children of the tribe grow into teenagers, teenagers into young adults, young adults into middle-aged adults, middle-aged adults into old age, and the old are eventually abandoned in the wilderness, left to be pecked by eagles and torn apart by wolves, to nourish the land beneath them the following year.

The grass on the grassland turned green and then yellow, the livestock herds sometimes expanded and sometimes shrank, and people in the tribe were born and died. Everything was changing, but the face of this divinely bestowed girl remained unchanged, though she spoke less and less.

Every time she falls asleep, the girl always dreams about the starry sky and the sea.

Although it was vague, there was something mysterious calling her to pursue it.

So the girl ran freely across the grassland, heading west with her many companions, embarking on a journey towards the ocean of her dreams, and fighting against the Westerners.

At the same time, as the clan leader, she needs to constantly cause destruction in order to ensure the prosperity of her clan.

Perhaps, from a human perspective, this would be categorized as an "ugly" act—aggressing against others for one's own benefit is indeed what humans call evil—driving others to their deaths with malicious intent; or making one's own side rich and prosperous with selfish intent.

However, I have always existed by trampling on life and destroying civilization.

Once upon a time, the reason for the white giant's existence was to "eradicate civilization in this universe," and the reason for the destructive machinery called "Sefaru."

Destruction for the sake of destruction is its operating principle.

Their actions were not malicious, nor were they motivated by profit. Destructive acts carried out without emotional influence are no different from natural disasters.

But besides destruction, he left nothing behind.

But this time, at least she had people of her own kind to confide in, and the meaning of fighting for the prosperity of her people.

And, the mission to lead their prayers into that sea of ​​stars and into the Kingdom of Heaven.

hum!

Suddenly, the hum of the God of War's sword shattered the long dream. The white-haired girl opened her eyes abruptly, her fingertips gripping the hilt of the sword tightly. Her crimson eyes gazed intently at the jagged rocks behind her.

"you're awake?"

In the interplay of moonlight and nighttime light, Samael walked out with a smile, sat down beside Attila, his right hand behind his back, and handed her the paper bag with his left.

"It wasn't easy to find this. I prepared it especially for you. Enjoy it while it's hot, or it won't taste good when it gets cold."

Attila's nostrils twitched, and she was startled for a moment. She slowly released her grip on the sword hilt, took the paper bag, and put the meat skewers into her mouth to chew.

Hmm, it's very chewy; it's wyvern meat...

Chapter 186 Blood of Desire

"It seems you've recovered quite a bit since you came here."

Samael glanced at the Hun king beside him, who had broken free from his infantile degeneration and regained his girlish form, and smiled faintly, lost in thought.

"It seems like I've remembered a lot of things, yet it also seems like I remember nothing at all, like a long dream..."

Attila responded in murmurs, her eyes filled with confusion.

Was it a beautiful dream or a nightmare?

Samael rested his chin on his hand, looked at Attila with a thoughtful expression, and asked with great interest.

Sweet dream... nightmare...

Attila murmured to herself, thinking of the burning earth, the crumbling life, the first ray of sunlight streaming into the stone chamber, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of grass, and then looked down at the Sword of the War God beside her. Her voice trailed off.

"Probably... both..."

After a moment of silence, the white-haired girl, who was gazing at the Sea of ​​Oceanus, turned to look at Samael.

"Have we known each other before?"

"I guess so, it has been a very long time..."

Samael paused for a moment, then looked at the calm sea, his heart filled with emotion. He then smiled, uncorked the wine, and poured the scarlet wine down his throat. He then tossed the wine flask to Attila beside him, inviting the Hunnic king to drink with him.

Attila took a big gulp, casually wiping the wine from the corner of her mouth. A faint taste of blood bloomed on her tongue. She paused for a moment, then continued drinking. She glanced at the red mark on Samael's palm, and an inexplicable urge to confide welled up inside her, and she blurted it out.

Do you hate Sefalu?

"Hate? That doesn't seem like it..."

Samael stroked his chin, thought for a moment, and then answered casually.

"Why? She almost destroyed your world..."

Attila was somewhat puzzled and tilted her head to look quietly at Samael.

"Well, in my opinion, the former Sefalu was just a weapon for the sake of destruction. Its actions were not malicious, nor did it pursue any interests. It was not affected by emotions when it carried out destruction. Its existence was no different from a natural disaster."

Or, to put it another way, if a sword kills someone, we tend to blame its owner rather than fixate on condemning the sword itself.

The ancient serpent picked up the War God's Sword, which was shimmering with colorful light, and casually tossed it aside. A faint smile appeared on its face, and it shook its head slightly.

"But isn't it also quite sad?"

"sad?"

"To destroy for the sake of destruction means that it leaves nothing but destruction and nothing behind."

Lacking an independent personality and unable to be considered a separate individual entitled to bear responsibility, it ultimately doesn't even possess the right to be hated, remembered, or resented. Its life, besides being pale and colorless, is utterly meaningless.

Samael looked up at the vast and lonely starry sky, and as he pondered, a penetrating wisdom appeared in his deep eyes.

"Should life have meaning?"

Attila looked into her palm and murmured to herself, each stardust containing the cries of countless souls, each line on her palm a pile of flesh and blood, civilizations and countless individuals that had once slipped through her fingers like quicksand.

The white giant in my memory never thought, never worried, never wavered.

"Life has no inherent meaning..."

Samael took a swig of the scarlet wine and responded with a light laugh.

"Then why..."

"So the purpose of living is to find meaning!"

The ancient serpent's expression turned solemn, its gaze distant, and it murmured softly to Attila's astonishment.

"Life on earth crawls in groups, birth and death are the natural laws. Everything comes from nothingness and has no meaning in the beginning."

However, the fact that life has no inherent meaning at the beginning also means that its future can create infinite possibilities.

If a person can become a hero, then writing epics and establishing great achievements is the meaning of his life...

If someone can become a magician, then exploring the principles and origins of magic is the meaning of their life...

If someone can be obsessed with travel, then seeing all the world's sights and experiencing different cultures and customs is the meaning of life...

If one can be passionate about food, then savoring international cuisines or personally cooking exquisite dishes becomes the meaning of life...

Even if you prefer to sleep until you naturally wake up, entering dreams from different angles and in different ways, immersing yourself in bizarre and fantastical worlds, can also be the meaning you pursue in this life…

Life initially has no meaning, so we need to find meaning.

In the journey between life and death, the intertwining of lives will create infinite possibilities, just like the vast universe and the countless stars.

Attila gazed at the starry sky beneath the night sky, lost in thought, yet seemingly understanding but not quite.

Giant waves crashed against the rocky cliffs, pushing the skeletons of sea creatures onto the beach, leaving behind a desolate, stark white landscape of life's demise.

As the wine was poured into his stomach, a faint taste of blood spread across his tongue, and a wealth of emotions brewed and rose within him. Attila's eyes glazed over for a moment, and he murmured a question.

"And what about Sefalu? Wasn't her purpose to kill?"

"Those were merely instructions written into her, not her will..."

Samael pondered for a moment, then gave a careful answer.

"Even if a killing were to take place, she should be the one to experience the civilization here, to come into contact with the life here, and to decide for herself whether this world should be destroyed or whether it can be saved. Only then would she be a living, breathing person, not a weapon that carries out orders."

Attila's body trembled, her eyes darted around violently, and her mind was in turmoil.

Samael rested his chin on one hand, looked at Attila with a deep gaze, and spoke in a slow, deliberate tone.

"So, the Great King of the Huns, in the spirit of a living being, tells me, what is the meaning of your existence?"

"May the tribe prosper, live up to their expectations, and lead them into an eternal kingdom..."

Attila answered instinctively, her tone subdued.

"I'm asking you, not your tribe! If the world were to end any minute now, would you be willing to let everything just end like that?"

Samael raised his voice, stood up, looked down at them, and a stern expression appeared on his face.

"No, I hate it when it all ends like this! I don't want to end up knowing nothing but the sword!"

Attila's bewildered crimson eyes broke through the chaotic mist, radiating a resolute light as she gazed at Samael.

The ancient serpent placed one hand on Attila's shoulder, looking encouragingly at the Hun king whose "self" and "desire" were beginning to sprout, and earnestly asked him questions.

"So answer me, as a living being standing on this earth, what do you yearn for, what do you want to pursue! Speak it out boldly!"

"I want to...I want to ride a horse and gallop across the grasslands like the wind..."

An image of lush green grasslands and a gentle breeze carrying the fragrance of earth appeared in her mind, and an answer slipped from Attila's lips.

"anything else?"

"One, two, no, a flock! I want to raise a flock of sheep! To drive them across the pastures during the day, and to sleep with them at night..."

Attila tightened her grip on the sheep plush toy, its warm temperature and soft touch drawing her in completely, its bleating still seeming to echo in her ears.

"besides!"

"I want to eat the food you make, and I also hope that one day I can make delicious food myself!"