I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 739 - 739 738. The Night Before_1

Chapter 739: 738. The Night Before_1 Chapter 739: 738. The Night Before_1 Joester coughed twice, feeling the irreversible changes in his body. His organs were corroding; they would gradually necrotize, mutate, lose their original function, or even create things that could destroy other organs.

In modern terms, this was no different from cancer.

Those organs, those cells, as a result of external radiation and disease, had become pathological cells that proliferated indefinitely, spreading and corroding bodily functions until death.

A part of Joester’s lungs had been removed, his kidneys had long been gone, and most of his digestive system relied on magic to function. By modern medical standards, the mere fact that his body could still operate was a miracle.

He knew he didn’t have much time left and that he might die suddenly before the Demonic Tide arrived.

Lately, he often came to the top of Gray Tower.

From here, Joester could gaze upon the Black Forest. Within the deep and serene woodland teemed innumerable Demonic Beasts that attacked humans without reason, slaughtering life and ravaging the land.

The night breeze was cool, the climate being the first to change as the Blood Moon approached.

The seasons in the Night Country were not distinct; typically, the coldest days coincided with the arrival of the Demonic Tide. Because of this, many crops failed to grow properly, especially near the Black Forest.

Only in the heart of the kingdom, farthest from the Black Forest, did the word “harvest” hold tangible meaning.

Joester looked down at the lights below and felt a mix of relief and worry.

He was relieved that the city had developed, despite its location by the Black Forest, which many found daunting. Yet, its prosperity far exceeded that of surrounding areas, to the point that a nearby duke had expressed interest in establishing good relations with Sunset Town.

Of course, that was after the duke’s initial attempts at encroachment had been robustly rebuffed by the fierce Players.

Joester’s worries, however, were very real.

All the progress here was predicated on the fact that the Demonic Tide had not yet arrived. If the monsters were to unleash their havoc, who could guarantee Sunset Town’s defenses would hold?

Even if Sunset Town’s fortifications were solid, the nearby towns could be destroyed by the Demonic Tide, leaving Sunset Town vulnerable from both inside and out, and perhaps unable to stand for long.

Besides.

Inside the town, there was a bustling noise.

Inhabitants of nearby towns would typically flee to the inner castles and fortresses for refuge when the Demonic Tide approached, even though it didn’t guarantee their safety, it was better than waiting for death where they were.

But now, with news of Sunset Town’s resilience, many residents of nearby towns had chosen to seek refuge here. Although the town had become busier, the weight on Joester’s shoulders had grown even heavier.

He took out a letter from his pocket.

It was a reply to a letter he had sent to his mentor at the Royal Palace some time ago.

In it, Joester described everything he’d seen on the frontier—the suffering of the people, the rampaging Demonic Beasts, the harsh life—and he expounded on the concept of the Magic Network, what they had achieved, and at last, pleaded with the mentor who had expelled him from the Royal Palace to lend aid by asking the Court Mages to join the Magic Network.

However, the response was not optimistic.

First, Joester’s mentor was not a top Court Mage capable of affecting many others.

Furthermore, the old mage did not trust the Magic Network, believing it had flaws; for instance, the choice of the Divine Being at the center of the Magic Network was still unresolved. Capturing a Divine Being from the moon was far from easy, and desperate measures might be needed at crucial moments.

Finally, Joester’s old mentor advised him to cherish his life. Admitting his error may allow him to return to the Royal Palace and undergo life-extending treatment, at least living a little longer.

Joester had expected such a reply.

If it were his past self, he might have hesitated when faced with death and considered his teacher’s suggestion.

But now, having met Shia, the Mage from the future, who showed him the possibilities of the Magic Network and the future of the Night Country centuries ahead, Joester was even more resolved in his convictions.

He was determined to complete the Magic Network, even if it meant sacrificing everything.

“Why are you sitting here alone?”

A voice came from behind. Joester turned and saw Cui Siter wearing a long trench coat.

“We need to have a meeting about the defense against the Demonic Tide,”

Cui Siter said, but he didn’t hurry Joester; instead, he sat down beside him.

“Are you afraid?”

Cui Siter asked, gazing into the depths of the Black Forest.

“Of course I am afraid. Every time the Demonic Tide arrives, it heralds a brutal war, with countless people dying.”

Joester nodded, then continued.

“What I fear more is that this will go on forever, until humanity is destroyed—until even after civilization has faded away, it remains, suffocating all that is new.”

Cui Siter heard this and nodded slightly.

He could relate to that feeling deeply.

In the Foreign Domain, he witnessed endless despair.

When they first came to the Silent Lands, the Chosen by Gods were all in despair, for the tasks here were bizarre and dangerous. A single misstep could lead to the loss of sanity and madness, or direct Pollution and Mutation into monsters.

Later, the Chosen by Gods learned the secrets of the Foreign Domain, realized the doomsday of their own world, and thus, hope was born, with a desire to save their own world.

But in the end, the Chosen would recognize that the world is despairing, that the only end for the Foreign Domain is destruction. No matter how they struggled, no matter how hard they fought, the world would inevitably march toward Doomsday, and the Chosen, mad or dead, or turned into monsters, none met a good end.

If Joester had been just a common man, then facing the predicament of the Night Country, he may have died ignorant in one of the Demonic Beasts’ attacks, coming with nothing, leaving with nothing, living a life mired in confusion.

But now, Joester knew all of this, he understood the predicament of the Night Country and had made efforts for it. In such a situation, this place would still fall into darkness, and, for Joester, he could bear the boundless darkness, provided that he had never seen the light.

“What about you, Mr. Cui Siter? Are you afraid?”

Joester turned and asked.

“Of course, because according to them, my death isn’t so far off,”

Cui Siter reached for his pipe but discovered that he had no matches left, which left him a bit embarrassed.

“If you don’t mind, I can help you.”

Joester spoke and produced a flame from his fingertip, lighting the tobacco in Cui Siter’s pipe.

The Detective took a deep breath, exhaling a puff of white smoke.

“If, I mean if, sacrificing my life could extend the life of this world, I wouldn’t hesitate; yet, I have no right to decide for others. I am well aware that I may commit the greatest sin in the history of mankind, leading this world down a path with no future in sight.”

Joester sighed, aware of the choice he had to make, and because of it, he felt the helplessness of fate.

“If it were that guy.”

Cui Siter smiled, thinking of that lunatic who never played by the rules.

“He would probably say, ‘Move forward, advance at all costs.'”

“Move forward…”

Joester mulled over the words.

“What we are facing is not some merciful enemy, but those Indescribable beings, perched high above the clouds, the Divine Beings. Wouldn’t it be a great trade to see some light in this world at the expense of a few lives?”

Cui Siter took a deep puff of his pipe, and as he stood up, it seemed as if the stars behind him had dimmed a bit, and the bright moon turned slightly red as if it were about to be polluted.

“It’s time to go.”