I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 747 - 747 746. Nobody Knows_1

Chapter 747: 746. Nobody Knows_1 Chapter 747: 746. Nobody Knows_1 At the moment the Magic Network was constructed, everyone in the Night Country heard a thunderous roar.

The mages noticed that silk-like threads, seemingly tangible and made of light, were emanating from their own chests and extending towards the infinite heights of the sky, where they tangled together midway to form a vast web.

In their consciousness, a fire appeared amid the dark and gloomy night sky, like a pale sun, bringing a weak light to the land.

Some knowledge emerged in their minds, it was a contract.

This contract promised uncontaminated knowledge and power, but it also demanded sacrifice and payment.

Some mages hesitated, others accepted gladly, while others were utterly bewildered.

Yet still, some chose to accept.

They might have been wretched souls tormented by pollution, with little time to live, or idealists with noble aspirations, determined to save this world, or perhaps they simply wanted to cling to the last sliver of hope in this dark and desperate world.

And so, the fire was lit.

Within a fortress, a dying mage was enveloped in pale flames. The faint light did not burn the things around him but made the fortress light up sharply.

The soldiers who were struggling valiantly suddenly found that the swarms of insects were being ignited by the dim light.

Those grim and terrifying insects, seemingly invincible, struggled and retreated in the glow of the flames, scampering away, trying to escape the reach of the light.

The soldiers were incredulous, at first thinking it was a gift from the Divine Beings, but when they sought the source of the light, they saw only their comrade-in-arms, who had fought beside them, now writhing in agony, twisting and turning in the pale flames.

It was only then that they knew who had saved them.

As more mages connected to the Magic Network, the network itself grew and strengthened, forming a shelter that enveloped the entirety of the Night Country.

Overlooking the land, one flame, two flames, three flames, many more lit up, with the mages serving as the kindling, igniting the Spirit Torches, illuminating the world with their dim yet sufficient light to dispel despair.

At that time, common people could also see the silk threads in the air, resembling dandelion fluff.

Simple knowledge flowed into their minds along these threads, unveiling a world before them.

In this barren and backward world, an age of ignorance, many people spent their entire lives just in their own towns, never having seen the vastness of the land, never having beheld the grand mountains, rivers, or seas, living in a daze, leading mindless lives.

However, now, an opportunity appeared before them.

If they agreed to sign the contract and connect to the Magic Network, they could have access to endless knowledge, and with their own hands, they could change their fate.

Knowledge was no longer a feared pollution but a benefit for everyone to enjoy, and in return, when the Demonic Tide came, when needed, they would offer their lives.

Some refused, wishing to live a muddled life in their own corner of the world, others hesitated, yearning for knowledge and power yet recoiling at the thought of sacrifice and payment, and there were those who responded promptly, shaking hands; for them, things were already bad enough, nothing could be more desperate than their current situation.

Specks of firelight continued to burst forth, illuminating the heavens of the Night Country.

In this long and painful struggle against the Demonic Tide, mankind lit the fires of hope for the first time.

It was not the heroic turning of the tide by one or two heroes in dire situations but a small-scale miracle formed by the many ordinary individuals like you and me.

For the Night Country, the era of heroes had ended; history was no longer propelled by one or two exceptionally talented geniuses and great figures.

For the Night Country, the era of Mortals had begun.

From now on, the destiny to counter the Demonic Tide would be etched into everyone’s heart; there would be no more ancient heroes in this world, for every person living here was a hero.

Similarly, in Sunset Town, as one of the earliest group of Players to come into contact with the Magic Network, Old Eggplant’s mind was also filled with some complex protocols.

He raised his right hand, silver threads winding around his fingertips. Old Eggplant now understood very clearly that this was the cornerstone of this world, the laws of this world.

At this moment, he only needed to gently move his fingers to manipulate these silver threads, thereby mobilizing the underlying rules of the entire world, rewriting reality; this was the essence of magic.

He closed his eyes, yet darkness did not come. A sky full of stars shone brilliantly; each one opened itself to him. Before Old Eggplant’s eyes spilled an overflowing stream of knowledge, a deluge containing the essence of an entire world that was dazzling to behold.

Old Eggplant remembered the astonishment he felt the first time he accessed the internet.

In that simple and somewhat unadorned era, the network brought a revolutionary awareness to Old Eggplant. For the first time, he felt the vastness of the world; his previously unremarkable life seemed like a black-and-white photograph, while the richness of color on the internet represented its true appearance.

For the current Old Eggplant, this influx of knowledge also led him to a completely different view of the world.

It was hard to imagine that a game could contain such abundant knowledge.

To Old Eggplant, the Night Country was a real world.

Similarly, in Shia’s consciousness, she stood atop that high tower.

She recalled the first time she came into contact with magic, the pale yet warm light she felt when she connected to the Magic Network, she stood before this light.

“So, after all these years, it’s always been you burning yourself.”

Shia knew very well that seeking Divine Beings as sacrifices was extremely difficult, not to mention the Ancient Overlord whose true form was sealed upon the moon.

To establish the Magic Network, to make the world change, Joester had used his own power.

Shia did not know whether Joester had been planning this from the very beginning or if it was a stroke of inspiration during this moment of crisis.

She only knew that Joester became a Divine Being himself, ignited his soul, and had been watching over for hundreds of years.

The Gray Tower and Magic Network would become Joester’s mark; over so many days, what he had labored to build was his own Prison Cage.

Combining the wills of all the Mages throughout time, he had constructed a vast expanse of stars, each one a divinized Mage.

And facilitating all this, was the knowledge brought by oneself, the Chosen by Gods, was the method to become divine that inspired Joester, leading him to finally design such a brilliant yet cruel structure.

One hour, this is how long a Mage of the Night Country sat on the Spirit Torch, burning themselves until they were spent.

And Joester, who had been sitting at the top of this Gray Tower, burning himself, did so for an untold number of years.

Even then, most inhabitants of the Night Country were not aware of his existence, of their existence.

The names of these people were unknown, yet their legacies would live on with the world.