Chapter 137: The Curtain Falls (Part II)

"Is this where it ends for me?" Ian stared at the claw, which was growing larger and larger in his pupils. A bitter smile touched the corners of his mouth. He wondered why, given the opponent's agility, he should not have been able to see such a sudden attack clearly. Yet, in this final, fleeting fraction of a second—less than a tenth of a second—time seemed to have slowed to a crawl.

This scene, as if frozen in place, felt somewhat amusing to Ian. People said the last second before death stretched on forever, but he had assumed that was just a movie trope. Shouldn't there be a montage of his life flashing before his eyes?

At this thought, a flicker of confusion crossed Ian's eyes as he began to recall his own history.

***

Within the Federation, the Northern European region was the most economically developed and technologically advanced. However, when it came to representing the Caucasian race, the world still acknowledged the Western European region. Many countries there had once dominated the seas and defined an era. Even today, the people of Western Europe did not, in their hearts, hold much regard for the world’s current leading region: Northern Europe.

The families of Western Europe boasted the longest lineages in the world. While families with a thousand-year history were rare, those spanning several centuries were ubiquitous, such as the Agnes family.

Ian had no name when he was born, for his family was peculiar. They were a clan of pure-blood close relatives who practiced endogamy. The mortality rate for offspring of such unions was high, and they frequently produced children with intellectual disabilities, physical deformities, or genetic diseases. It was an extremely high-risk practice, yet this tradition remained unusually popular among the upper echelons of the nobility in many regions. Beyond the so-called ancient, feudal theories of bloodline, there was another, specific reason: close-kin marriage offered a slim chance of producing a brilliant genius.

There were many such examples. Among these lines, there had been world-renowned scientists, artists whose works were passed down through centuries, and even leaders who had altered the course of the world. Among the nobility, countless business prodigies had been born through such unions.

However, in terms of ratio, the likelihood of deformity was much higher. For these children, the family’s system was often cruel, yet they would always ensure the child reached adulthood. The family brought you into this world and raised you; in return, you were expected to serve the family. If you could not, you were unworthy of the name.

From birth until the age of five, Ian had never uttered a single word. Almost everyone, including his parents, assumed he was intellectually disabled.

In a family like the Agnes clan, giving birth to a child with a disability was not rare; in fact, it was quite common. But it was not a matter of honor. In the family, such individuals were eventually discarded. Thus, the servants around him, and even his parents, treated him with extreme coldness.

But Ian’s mind was, in fact, quite mature—far beyond that of his peers. He did not speak not because he could not, but because he did not want to. If one’s thinking matures too early in childhood, one becomes plagued by inexplicable questions.

For instance: what is the meaning of my birth?

This was a philosophical question that many people never answered in their entire lives.

His logic was simple: the people around him were unkind to him, so he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to them, including his parents. However, stories always have turning points, and Ian’s turning point was a maid who was perhaps a little too kind.

No one had ever treated him that well, as if without regard for the cost. Ian had never believed in selflessness, because in his family, even his parents had not treated him with such selfless care, let alone an outsider. Thus, Ian was curious about her and watched her in secret.

Yet, no matter how much he feigned ignorance, this woman always treated him the same way—never complaining, never demanding. It felt novel to him. Could such a person actually exist in this world?

So, Ian began to approach her, spending most of his days trailing behind her, watching her work, watching her rest, and watching her pray. When it came to her prayers, Ian paid close attention, for whenever she prayed, her expression became far more solemn than usual. He had read in books that this was called piety.

Influenced by her, Ian became very interested in deities. He found the existence of such things fascinating. Many people held them in awe, praying fervently as if they were omnipotent, yet the so-called deity never responded to them. Ian even felt the very existence of such a god was false.

But so many people, including his grandfather—the most formidable figure in his family—were the most devout believers, which only made it more intriguing to him.

Were gods so worth yearning for? Was such an ethereal existence truly worth pursuing?

Days passed, and then came Ian’s second turning point. One day, the maid who had been kindest to him was brutally beaten and appeared to be nearing death. In such a grand family, the lives of servants were not held as sacred as the Federation claimed; their lives were humble.

Watching her grow increasingly frail, Ian finally could not help but ask, "Why were you so good to me?"

Facing Ian’s question, the maid smiled—a very happy smile. "I knew it... I knew you were not a simpleton, young master. I knew my choice was not wrong!" She paused, her expression suddenly turning desolate. "It is a pity... I will not live to see the day."

Ian was silent. Her words revealed a truth: she was not truly selfless; she had an agenda. This explained the doubts Ian had harbored all along. When the answer was finally revealed, Ian felt a sudden sense of boredom, but one question still lingered. "How did you discover it?" He did not believe her intellect was sufficient to see what no one else in the family could.

"I felt it, young master, because you are the one chosen by God!" she said with a mysterious smile.

"God?" Ian frowned. "The one you pray to so often? Can you actually get a response from that thing?"

"Do not blaspheme, young master!" the maid said, suddenly agitated. Then, she asked earnestly, "Do you not believe?"

"I do not," Ian replied bluntly.

"But I do..." the maid smiled. "That is why I treated you so well. I believe you are the one chosen by God. If you can make everyone else believe it too, then everyone will treat you as I have... no, even better than I have!"

Ian: "..."

The maid eventually died; she did not survive that winter. But Ian awoke that winter. He began to test what the maid had told him before her death. He began to display his talents, and at the age of eight, he earned the right to choose his own name. He named himself Ian—a name reflecting the glory of God.

As the maid had predicted, his parents and those around him began to treat him better and better, eventually even with awe and worship. It was a wonderful feeling. And so, eventually, he began to believe the maid’s absurd claim: he was indeed the one chosen by God.

When he entered this game, Ian was more excited than anyone else, because for the first time, he knew that gods truly existed in this world!

His once-boring life suddenly gained meaning. His goal was simple: to see what the so-called true gods looked like and to prove, once and for all, whether he was truly the chosen one.

Sure enough... seeing Cang Mingyue’s claw closing in on him, the bitter smile on Ian’s face deepened. Did the facts prove that the "chosen one" was just a story that woman used to comfort him before she died?

He closed his eyes in fatigue, suddenly feeling tired. Perhaps it was time to rest.

But seconds passed—or what felt like a long time to him—yet the pain and death he imagined did not come. Ian was puzzled. It had been so long; even if time slowed before death, this was excessive, wasn't it?

Ian opened his eyes in surprise and suddenly realized that it was not he who had been frozen—it was her! She had been halted!

Who had done this? What kind of technique could completely freeze someone with such high attributes? And it wasn't just this woman!

Looking at the cold air frozen near her claws, Ian clearly felt that everything around him had been paused—everything except himself.

Ian slowly sat up, pushed aside Cang Mingyue’s hand, stepped out of the box, and began to walk outward. He had a feeling that the answers he sought were out there, and that what waited for him beyond was something that truly transcended all existence.