Chapter 181

Chapter 181: History, corruption, and the Black Sun

That one line that suddenly appeared on the Chronicle Pillar. A city?state no one knew. A battle no one knew. A failure and sacrifice no one knew—a stretch of history that existed in no one’s memory, leaving behind only this faint trace in the world after it died.

And even that extremely short sentence had probably cost the lives of more Flamebearers than anyone could count before it could be delivered into the Mortal Realm.

After hearing Morris’s story, Duncan fell into thought once his brief shock passed.

The Flamebearer Church… he knew the rough situation of this sect.

After learning that this world had a “Four Gods faith”, he had become deeply interested in these deities that had such a huge effect on the workings of the mortal world. The book Morris had previously sent him also happened to contain a lot about the Four Gods Church. Duncan had read up on the churches of all four True Gods, and among these Four Gods, the “Flamebearers” were the most unusual in his eyes.

The core of the Flamebearers’ faith—their “belief”—was completely different from that of the believers of the other three Gods. The believers of the other three Gods followed storm, wisdom, and death, all concepts that were fairly easy to understand. The Flamebearers, however, followed something far more elusive: “history”.

History was the memory of civilization, passed down like fire through the changing years. That was the core of the Flamebearers’ belief. They thought that civilization began with “fire” and had used “fire” as its symbol ever since. In this world there were countless threats trying to disturb or twist the passing on of this flame. To fight those threats and keep the flame of civilization passing on steadily was their mission.

The Flamebearers followed and worshiped the Everburning Ember, Tarrigan, a giant who stood at the Dawn of Civilization. It was said that He kept and guarded the first bonfire mortals ever lit, and made that bonfire into a part of His own body. From the jumps and branching of the flames He told the correct history, and carved it into His own flesh. As civilization kept moving forward, this giant grew larger and larger. When He finally grew to His full size, mortal civilization in the world would gain true safety. No one would ever again be able to threaten the correct passing on of history—not even Subspace would be able to erase civilization.

That was the original text in the book Morris had sent. It was also the most important passage in the Flamebearers’ scripture, the Flame Gospel.

In Duncan’s view, the last part of that description was probably only the believers’ wishful thinking, a big promise drawn by the Church, with a level of credibility that was open to doubt. But the part about the Flamebearers guarding history should all be true.

History could be corrupted, so of course it could also be protected—and the reverse was also true.

“…So they already did it once back then…” Duncan suddenly muttered, looking thoughtful.

“What did you say?” Morris did not react at first. “Did it once back then? What do you mean…”

“Nothing, I was just talking to myself,” Duncan shook his head lightly, then looked very seriously at the old gentleman in front of him. “The information you brought is very important.”

“The information I brought?” Morris was a little confused. “You mean that third record I just mentioned? The message that appeared on the Flamebearers’ Chronicle Pillar?”

Duncan nodded slightly, then suddenly frowned: “But there is something I am very curious about. Does the Black Sun have the divine authority to corrupt history?”

“This…” Morris hesitated. This clearly went beyond the knowledge range of a ‘history expert’. “I am not very clear on the matter of the Black Sun’s divine authority. Only experts who specialize in fighting Eldritch Gods would know that. But as far as I know, in theory the Black Sun should not have that ability…”

Duncan nodded, deep in thought. Morris watched this “Subspace shadow” in front of him with growing unease.

This “Mr. Duncan” always behaved with great courtesy and patience. He discussed academic issues with Morris, asking questions now and then and pondering the answers. The atmosphere was just like it had been when Morris last visited the antique shop. But the phantoms and noise that sometimes rose in his mind kept reminding Morris that he was walking along the edge of an abyss.

“Mr. Duncan” seemed to have become interested in the Flamebearers, in the “corruption and protection of history”. Why was that? Was this being, who likely came from Subspace, plotting something? Did the God of Wisdom Rahm have Morris stay behind and contact him in order to gain information on this point? What was the relationship between this Subspace shadow and the God of Wisdom? Were they in some kind of struggle?

Was he now taking part in a game between deities? Was he serving as the God of Wisdom’s eyes and ears, spying on the other side?

All kinds of tangled thoughts rose and fell in Morris’s mind. He became even more cautious. Once he realized what “role” he might be playing, he even felt a sudden sense of duty. It was as if Rahm stood behind him, watching this “Mr. Duncan” through his eyes.

While the old gentleman drifted off into wild thoughts, Duncan finally finished his own pondering. Duncan suddenly raised his head and muttered, half curious, half rueful: “Those ‘Sun heretics’ have done so many things, yet they are still active today… Haven’t the normal people of the city?states ever thought about wiping out this group of madmen once and for all?”

“Wiping out a cult of an Eldritch God is easier said than done,” Morris woke from his thoughts and shook his head without thinking. “Heretical faith is like mercury entering the body. It seeps through every crack. No matter how many you destroy, new ones will always appear. In the end, it is because the ‘deity’ behind them is still moving. As long as that Eldritch God still exists, Its corruption and infiltration of mortals will never stop. Even if all the adults in a city?state died and only the purest newborns were left, some of those newborns would still naturally grow minds that could be tempted…”

Morris spoke and shook his head. “Some people just live their lives quietly, honest and hardworking for most of their years. But because of a single moment of weakness after a setback, or a single wavering line of fear, or because they see something they should not see, or hear of something they should not know, they become heretics’ tools overnight. Their minds fill with forbidden knowledge. They put on black robes and turn into believers of an Eldritch God. How can you ever fully clean away that kind of heretical corruption?”

As he said this, the old gentleman glanced at Duncan again without meaning to. His eyes grew a little strange.

Duncan looked puzzled: “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Forgive my rudeness,” Morris took a light breath and gathered his courage. “But should you not be very familiar with this kind of… corruption among mortals?”

At first Duncan did not understand. It took him two seconds to catch Morris’s meaning, and his face turned helpless. “I do not do that sort of thing. I normally obey the law. When I see cultists, I even go and report them to the nearest constable of my own accord.”

Morris: “…?”

The old gentleman clearly had a bellyful of words in that instant, but he did not dare say a single one of them.

Duncan felt the topic had gone crooked. Before Morris could speak, Duncan quickly waved his hand: “I get what you mean. The believers of Eldritch Gods in the mortal world are only the ‘surface’. The real problem is that the Eldritch Gods themselves cannot be destroyed. Their corruption is like lingering poison, breeding crop after crop of cultists. Even if the Guardians fought for ten thousand years, they could never finish the cleanup. But is the Black Sun’s influence really that strong? I have seen that poor fellow. It is almost dead. Forget interfering in the mortal world—just speaking a word to me takes a last flare of dying strength. And even like that, It can still corrupt the Mortal Realm?”

Morris’s mouth twitched at once: “No matter how bad the Black Sun’s state is, that is only in your eyes. We… are all just fragile mortals…”

A strange feeling rose in Duncan’s heart. For a moment he wanted to tell the old gentleman: “I am human too. In what way do I not look human to you?” But for the sake of the old man’s mental and physical health, he held the words back.

After blurting out what was on his mind, Morris seemed to think of something else. He paused, then added: “But your doubt may point to the key of the problem. If the Black Sun’s condition is really as bad as you say, Its corruption of the mortal world should not be this strong. At the very least it should not make the Sun heretics so hard to deal with… All of this may still be connected to those beings called the ‘Sun Spawn’.”

“The Sun Spawn…” Duncan muttered, thoughtful. He could not help thinking again of that tall, thin black silhouette that had appeared in Shirley’s dream before.

He did not have any clear proof, but he still felt that thing was very likely related to the legendary “Sun Spawn”.

The Black Sun was already in its twilight years and no longer had the strength to shine on this world. Yet Its spawn had gone on until today, continuing the Black Sun’s influence in another way. Because of that, the Suntists could not be wiped out, and their harm only grew greater.

But even here, one problem still had no answer:

The Black Sun did not have the ability to corrupt history, and Its spawn certainly did not.

Yet in the early years of the New City?State Calendar, the message from that city?state forgotten by history, Willheim, had said that “the Black Sun descended from history”. Now the city?state of Pland also showed signs of history being corrupted. What did that mean?

Could it be that… someone was “helping” the Black Sun to be resurrected from history?