The Grim Reaper is dead—yes, of course Duncan knew, not just the Grim Reaper, but the Goddess of Storms, the Eternal Flame, the God of Wisdom, and even every ancient god and evil god who has left a name or no name in history, every ancient king, they are all dead.

As early as the day of the Great Annihilation, the moment a thousand worlds suddenly turned into this scorching and chaotic ash, all the gods died, leaving behind nothing more than their rotting corpses, nothing more than the "inertia" of the old world.

But the moment the tall gatekeeper said the words "Death is dead", Duncan realized that he was referring to something else—not "the gods are dead" as he knew it, but something that had just happened.

Not only Duncan, but Agatha on the side also quickly thought of this, and the expression on her face quickly changed from confusion to stunned: "What happened?" ”

The tall gatekeeper silently turned around and took another step towards the distant wasteland, and after a few seconds, his voice came softly: "To buy time." ”

……

The world is cooling, and it's not just the flames that are cooling—it's something intrinsic, earthly that is dissipating, like the last warm breath that is irretrievably leaving the throat of the dying.

Now, the undead have begun to walk around the streets, the cold flames can no longer dispel the cold of the earthly forest, the sea has long been still, and the memories of the past are dissipating from everyone's mind, or twisting into grotesque, broken, but imperceptible fragments.

From the remote cities of Faelren to the prosperous Purand, from the frost to the breezy harbors, from the Moko to the broken archipelago of the Eastern Seas, in every known place, "coolness" and "weirdness" are spreading like an unstoppable frost and gradually covering every lamp of civilization.

Tirion made his way to the highest lighthouse in the Frosty Southeast, and looked out over the lookout at the dark sea beyond the city-state, where he saw the large fleets of sunlight slowly approaching, cargo ships laden with grease, cloth, and grain docked on the docks, heavy loaders moving back and forth in the darkness to unload supplies from their holds.

The dead are busy on the docks, and the undead sailors of the Sea Mist Fleet are now surrounded by many more "kinds", and the dead and unaware corpses operate tireless machinery, following the orders issued by the town hall, keeping the city functioning as usual.

On the other side, in the direction of the city, you can see the towering chimneys and the brightest lit factory platform - the power plant is running as usual, the steam hub emits a low roar, and huge pipes extend from the factory, branching out like blood vessels and spreading into the city, providing power and safety for the people who live in the city.

In those factories, the massive steam core had cooled, and no amount of boiling gold catalyst could be inserted to warm the flame back up in the vessel - but the cold reactor still hissed, the steam flowed, and the power in the pipes was surging.

The "breath" and "blood" needed for the operation of the city are still rushing in the network of pipes, without stopping.

In this way, the gas lights in the city are still bright, the factories are still brightly lit, the machinery is running, the guards are still dutifully patrolling every alley, guarding against all the extraordinary visions that do not conform to the "laws of nature", and the sheriff is maintaining order in the city at night, helping the citizens who are in distress and dealing with the increasing number of law and order cases due to pressure.

Yes, order is still working, the lights of civilization have not been extinguished, and yet Tirion can still smell the smell that is constantly filling the air...... The cold, slightly rancid smell that seemed to come from the depths of the city, from the bottom of the endless sea, from every breeze, every inch of the sky, even every speck of dust.

Something was crumbling, the sinking of the world was passing a "tipping point", and there were still many impressions of the past in his mind, and he could sense that the whole world was very wrong now, and it was getting more and more wrong.

Father mentioned that the world will try to "correct" the mistakes that have been produced in the run, but there is a limit to this correction, and now it ...... It's probably approaching that limit at a rapid pace.

A ripple suddenly rippled in his heart, and Tirion felt the familiar aura approaching, and immediately withdrew his gaze from afar.

"Father," he said, turning to look at the burly figure covered in bandages and a pitch-black coat, "why are you here?" ”

"The cemetery doesn't need guards anymore, my avatar has a lot of free time now," Duncan said, strolling over to Tirion, his gaze beyond the night to the direction Tirion had just looked, "What's your idea?" ”

"It's almost time, isn't it?" Tyrion looked at the night with a complicated gaze, "That 'time' you reminded...... I thought I would have to wait at least a little longer. ”

The father was silent for a few seconds, and then suddenly spoke: "...... The Grim Reaper is dead. ”

Tirien was a little stunned for a moment, and didn't seem to have realized the meaning of this sentence.

"The world is collapsing faster than we think, and its self-correction does not guarantee that all shelter dwellers will be in a 'living state', or in other words, 'living...... It is a high-load unit, because the conditions required to sustain 'life' are complex and sophisticated, and it is difficult for current shelters to fully provide such living conditions. ”

Duncan said in a low voice, looking into the distance, but his eyes seemed to be focused on another, more distant place, looking at somewhere at the end of the world.

"This is the truth that began a while ago, the city-states 'resurrected the dead' and newborns were no longer born - Bartók ended the death mechanism of this world ahead of schedule.

"His original decay process hasn't really reached this point.

"Now, the shelter doesn't need to support the living.

"At the same time, the suspension of the death mechanism ensures that most of the world's population can 'survive' as much as possible as possible in the gradual collapse of the shelter, even in a twisted and grotesque form, in the form of the undead, even temporarily.

"This is the time that Bartók has bought for the world."

Tirien listened dumbfounded, as if he wanted to say something, but in confusion and consternation, he couldn't figure out how to speak.

Father's low, hoarse voice came again—

"But I'm afraid this is the last time the four gods will be able to buy this shelter."

Tirion finally subconsciously spoke, "Why? ”

"Because the shutdown of the death mechanism itself is a blow to the shelter, after it, the countdown will officially come to an end, all order will enter the accelerated distortion phase, and the world's 'correction mechanism' will no longer work - and as a result, more and more people will begin to perceive the distortions and distortions that were originally hidden from cognition."

Duncan turned his head, his eyes staring at Tirion with deep eyes.

Tirion stood there stunned, a huge amount of information washing over the "Iron Admiral", and a wave of turmoil swept through his mind, and some "details" that had been forgotten or ignored by his subconscious came up like shadows in a nightmare!

He struggled to comprehend the astonishing information his father had suddenly told him, to understand the current state of the world, and it was not long before he felt the tearing vertigo in his mind fade and reason reappeared in his heart.

"So......" he opened his mouth, hesitating, "ordinary people will soon ......"

"You are under my influence and can perceive many things in advance, and as time goes on, as the world becomes more distorted and distorted, and the shelter's correction mechanism completely fails, more and more people will perceive the anomalies of the world as you do—not all, depending on the strength of the mind, the level of inspiration, and some ...... 'luck'.

"For those who can't wake up, they will continue to live their daily lives in darkness and distortion, even if that life will gradually become grotesque and terrifying, and they will not feel that the world has changed.

"But for those who woke up...... Things can get bad.

"Tirion, you need to be ready—and so must the other city-states.

"The last and greatest chaos of the Old World is coming."

……

Duncan and Agatha had been trekking on this "trail" for a long time, and at some point the strange black and white weeds around them had gradually disappeared, replaced by endless pale or pitch-black gravel, and the sparse and withered vegetation that was occasionally visible in the gravel beach.

The twilight that permeated the wilderness faded, and the quiet night reigned again over the moor.

Agatha whispered to Duncan that this was the next stage of the "No Return Trail", a gesture in the depths of the Wilderness of Death—after crossing the twilight that represented the "afterglow of life", the quiet night would welcome the deceased, and the endless desolation of rubble would erase the last trace of the deceased's nostalgia for the earthly world, and once they had successfully walked through it, it would be the place where the "gate" was.

But now these symbols and procedures related to the "death mechanism" are meaningless.

Duncan looked up into the distance, and in the deepest part of the night, something very large seemed to stand in the middle of the wilderness.

And in the corner of his eye, he finally saw other figures.

They were the "gatekeepers" in black robes, shrouded in a glimmer of light as if still shrouded in the light of dusk.

One gatekeeper after another, silently walking across this boundless wasteland, in a common direction, in silence, to the funeral.

(End of chapter)