Luo Jia sat on his knees and stood still for a long time, until he was awakened by the sound of his teeth clattering. A fear gratuitously seized the mind, as if a great conspiracy or mystery was slowly taking shape in the blind spot of vision, waiting to encompass him.

The fear of darkness is embedded in our genes, and Luo Jia knows that this is essentially a fear of the unknown. He once thought it was a weakness that could be overcome, but now in the face of the paintings here, he truly understood the fragility of mortals for the first time. If this was pure madness or threats, the young primordial would just laugh it off. But there was something lurking beneath the absurd paintings that he didn't dare to think about.

Who hid these smears under the paintings, and what lured him behind the previous crystals? Luo Jia couldn't think about it anymore. Now, he must find the owner of this place and ask him about his intentions.

After finding his target, his mind settled down slightly. Continue your way through this labyrinthine structure. At first, he was almost lost in the complicated corridors. After passing a familiar intersection for the third time, Luo Jia stopped, looked left and right, and slammed his fist into the beautifully carved wall.

The wall fell to the ground and collapsed several times. These ornate walls are less than a finger thick, and the fractures are made of rough cardboard, as if some kind of stage props were made in an emergency. Luo Jia opened through a dozen more walls, and finally found a downward exit, a spiral staircase leading to a dark place, next to which a simple painting was carved that seemed to represent a funeral scene.

Luo Jia ignored this hidden warning, or intimidation. To the young primordial, the painting was not even as practical as a poison dart or smoke trap. Walking down the steps, darkness replaced the brightness of the temple above, and the silence was deep. He arched his back vigilantly, pricking up his ears to catch the slightest sound.

In the distance, a little light lit up, as if the single pupil of a beast was opened. A proverb that is silent in the depths of pre-encapsulated knowledge emerges at the right time.

The moon is not alone, and the lone lamp is not a person.

The young primordial inexplicably felt a little funny. He decisively stuffed the knowledge of dealing with wild beasts at night that had surfaced one after another, and chose the most preferred move.

He began to stride forward.

In absolute darkness and silence, one's perception of time becomes weaker. It was probably a long time before a door finally appeared in view, and the light that Luo Jia had seen before was emitted from the crystal inlaid in the door.

Without hesitation, he pushed the door open, his eyes squinted at the surging light. Even the original body had to adapt for several seconds before it could see the scene in the room.

A large and intricate mandala pattern is projected onto the grand vault. He recognized this typical pattern of central radiation as being associated with the various religions of Gustera, with symbols of cycles, never-ending, the center of the universe, and so on.

But this is not surprising. He thought. Geometry is fair. Since the various religions of Guterra have developed their own worship of this motif, it is not surprising that it existed in the halls of the old gods of Colchis.

Underneath the vault is even more striking. The four walls were covered with crystal masks, each as tall as ten Rakja. Their expressions are different, but they are all very vivid. Roga saw a weeping woman, a clown with a mocking smile, and a hideous-looking man with inorganic eyes overflowing with anger. The carvers of unknown craftsmen are so lifelike that they resemble solidified living creatures. Every pair of eyes seemed to be staring at Luo Jia, making him a little uncomfortable.

Facing the wall, in the center hung the largest mask, its eyes closed, but it exuded a sense of wisdom. The fly in the ointment was that the bottom half of its face was completely shattered, scattered with shiny fragments. Luo Jia couldn't help but pick up a piece and carefully inspect the delicate and smooth carving, but it was too light to start. He flipped it over and was shocked to find that the back was crumpled paper and dried paste.

This sacred temple, which arouses infinite reverence and fear, is full of shoddy counterfeits?

"Admittedly."

It was not so much a sound as running water, labor pains, or tears, and it invaded Luo Jia's mind, causing him to stagger and stumble, the fragments in his hands slipping and shattering into smaller crystals with a thud.

Luo Jia almost fell to the ground, and it was only by holding up the wall in time to stabilize his body. He clenched the dagger, the outline of the silver bat reassuring him, and squeezed a few words out between his teeth: "You are?" ”

"The Ancestor of All Things, the God of Gods, Heya's Wife, the King of the Phoenix, one more prominent name has ever portrayed me, but these are false illusions. If you need a title, you can call me Asoyan. ”

Luo Jia's eyes widened, and he suddenly remembered why he was here. "It's you...... The Old Gods of Bethlehem? You pulled me in here? ”

"As you say, the children of the damned, the divine bloodline. When the remnants of my flame touched you, I realized that the only salvation might have come. ”

"Do you know where I came from?" Luo Jia asked loudly, losing his cool for a moment, "Tell me!" ”

"That's not the truth I'm worthy of. When your father comes, everything will be clear. ”

“…… So what do you want to do? Roga's mind was a little confused, and he left Bethlehem and the Eternal King behind. He is indeed the descendant of some great being, with an extraordinary bloodline, and his father will come to him! But why was he abandoned on this barren planet again, because did his father expect anything from him?

The voice paused and said slowly, "Make you king, and then destroy Bethlehem." ”

“…… I thought you were talking about the possibility of salvation? Luo Jia's voice was low. He did not expect that the voice of God, the Father, who called himself Asuyan, the most revered in Bethlehem, would make such a request. This is really a bit complicated for his life of twenty days or so, even with the knowledge reserved in his head.

"In the hunting grounds of the gods, destruction and redemption are two sides of the same coin."

"Don't play dumb riddles," Roga became irritated. He was already a little dazed by Lilith's complex grammar and allusions, and he didn't expect the gods she worshipped to be even more so. In contrast, even the simple-minded Narek seemed to be easy to communicate. "Now, tell me why."

It seems to be a chuckle. "The reason is simple, I'm not Asoyan." He said slowly, "This is but one of the skins I stole from the dead, the one I love most of the false crowns." ”