blueteamnovel Chapter 209 His Prisoner
Chapter 209 His Prisoner
Chapter 209 His Prisoner
The curly-haired elf walked upon the mirror-like curtain, ripples spreading across the surface with each step. The ripples collided, reflected, and merged, scattering the man's footprints towards the edge of the ethereal plane.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk."
The elf uncle, his tongue lolling, strolled through the black forest of bizarre geometric shapes, his fingers tracing the cold surfaces of the stone tablets, the ancient characters seeming to weep silently.
The bones of some enormous creature float in the background, their empty, deep eye sockets resembling black holes.
The elf's relaxed steps led him to the center of the stele forest, where six obelisks soared into the sky, their length seemingly endless. These six irregularly shaped steles formed a circular space—a space where chaotic magical energy flowed freely, occasionally colliding to create violent magical storms. The ether within this space fluctuated rapidly between states of flux, aggregation, and solidification, defying all logic.
Even for magical creatures, this space was an extremely dangerous place, but the strange uncle strolled in leisurely, humming a tune in some ancient language—the frivolous music seemed to have enraged the magical storm, making its outburst even more intense.
"It seems even immortal gods lose patience," the eccentric uncle quipped, pointing to one of the six obelisks. "What, are you complaining that this specially built prison for you is too cramped?"
The stone tablet responded with silence.
The strange uncle showed no surprise whatsoever.
"Yes, I know you're still holding a grudge about that betrayal twelve hundred years ago."
When the elf uttered the word "betrayal," a magical power awakened within the stone tablet, reflecting an ominous red light in the pure black crystal.
"Are you angry? Be more understanding."
The eccentric uncle smirked. "Look, this place isn't so bad after all. Here, you can monopolize all the magic in this world. Isn't that what you wanted most, hoarders?"
"And you, [Shadow One], you love to hide in the shadows, and the etheric plane is a projection of the material plane. How wonderful, this is simply the perfect dwelling for you."
The ominous red light, like a virus, spread from one obelisk to the next, and then towards the outer edge of the forest of steles.
"The Devourer," a cute yet terrifying primordial behemoth—I know there's nothing that will satisfy your appetite, but in this magically constructed plane, you can unleash your fury to your heart's content. After all, everything here is temporary; the ether is constantly breaking and reforming—a nice playground, isn't it?"
"And [my dear mocker], of the six gods, you are the one I admire most. Only you can understand my sense of humor. Six completely different gods, each with their own ulterior motives, who would never come together under any circumstances—yet, out of fear of that [eternal void], they have joined forces—to create their own prison. How ironic is that?"
Under the sarcasm of the strange uncle, the ominous red light grew stronger, and the black forest of steles was almost entirely dyed red by this color that represented anger.
Ether whistled in his ears, but the curly-haired elf looked relaxed and carefree.
He picked his nose and then flicked the object to the ground.
"—I'm not bragging, but I think this is the greatest joke in the history of the world."
The ether hissed, and red spread like a flood throughout the plane, staining the man's entire field of vision.
"—Okay, okay, don't you guys find this funny?—This audience is really something else, why are you taking it so seriously?"
The eccentric uncle strolled to the very center of the Stele Forest, calmly accepting the dual baptism of the etheric storm and the red light.
"But you will understand. All of this is a necessary sacrifice—I cannot let the cowardice of the gods be a reason to bury this world—no matter how deep you bury your heads in the sand, [the eternal void] will always come."
"Everything born in the primordial chaos will perish in the eternity of the void—that's how the prophecy describes it. Don't forget, even gods were born in that great chaos—from the moment we pass through the ascension ceremony, the existence of this world is inextricably linked to our life and death; this is a reality we cannot escape."
"And now, the messenger of the [Eternal Void] has reappeared in the material plane—whether you like it or not, you must accept this terrible reality."
"The clock of doom has begun to tick!"
The elf uncle's monologue seemed to awaken some emotion within the obelisk; the red that represented anger slowly cooled down, replaced by a timid blue.
In the background, the enormous floating skeleton gazes at the prison of the gods with unfathomable black eye sockets. In the distant void, endless silence absorbs the surrounding heat, slowly but irresistibly expanding, emanating a bone-chilling cold.
"[The Enraged], you are the most despicable and ruthless. In order to save yourself, you abandoned your people without hesitation."
But I'm telling you now, that "chosen goblin" you fabricated in your lies has truly appeared—he's doing what you've never been able to do—watch, that guy will change the fate of this world!
"Using that goblin as kindling, a wildfire will engulf two planes. And then, and then—"
The elf uncle grew increasingly excited as he spoke, and a primordial furnace, representing the beginning of all things, ignited in his eyes. The power of chaos caused the ether surrounding him to revel in a disordered frenzy!
When he spoke again, his voice resonated throughout the entire ethereal plane: "Then, upon the ashes of the old world, a completely new world will be born from chaos: new creation, new life, everything new—and then, when this new world becomes stale, we will burn it again!!! The eternity of the void cannot touch this world—never!!!"
As His emotions reached their climax, the elf's body began to flicker and become ethereal, almost losing its human form—transforming into a leaping flame. Tadpoles of light, condensed from ether, rushed into the flame from all directions, like moths drawn to a flame.
Then, in an instant, the flames went out.
The mischievous uncle resumed his playful and relaxed expression.
"Of course, at that time, we will need to borrow your divine status to make that fire burn even more fiercely—although I said 'please,' you have no choice."
His gaze swept coldly over the six obelisks, then settled on the one that belonged to him.
The elf uncle, or rather, the incarnation of the traveler, raised his head along the obelisk, his gaze sliding towards the endless void.
His bright eyes reflected an unyielding stubbornness.
Yes, the great Jauss, god of death and annihilation, the end of all things, eternal silence—
Time will bring everything into your embrace.
But this isn't the world. It's not my world.
It wasn't like that before, it's not like that now, and it never will be.
I will fight against you in the endless river of time, until we both forget why this war began.
For life.
Long live Chaos!
Long live Chaos!!
Long live Chaos!!!
!! !! !! !! !! !! !! !! !! !! !! !! !! !! !! !!
【BONUS】Character Sketch: The Traveler
Some say that He is a generous god who never hesitates to give gifts and asks for nothing in return.
Some say he was incredibly evil, leaving destruction and ruins in his wake.
But the only thing everyone could agree on was that people could never guess what his next move would be.
In a serious world, this maverick seems to treat everything as a farce—the world is his playground, and everyone's every move can become an object of amusement.
This guy doesn't think there's anything wrong with doing this: the concept of "life" is already absurd to an extreme, so why bother looking for a vague meaning in this nonsense?
All rules and laws are merely troubles created by mortals themselves. The great traveler can't wait to see a king kiss a beggar's feet, or a god praying for blessings from mortals.
Before he became a god, this strange elf had never loved any specific person, including himself.
Yet no one loved life more than him. That creation of the primordial chaos represented change and infinite possibilities.
Which came first, the chicken or the egg?
This eccentric elf uncle will tell you this:
Neither the chicken nor the egg matters.
The important thing is that until the egg hatches, you never know if it contains a chicken or a mutated, dwarfed Feathered Tyrannosaurus Rex.
And what constitutes the very foundation of this world is this wonderful possibility.
all in all:
Long live Chaos!