Chapter 148

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Chapter 148: The Story Will Continue

Without the power of the world, one cannot change the world, but the world itself won’t change on its own, it can’t manage such meticulous plans.

The World Will is like a very large single-celled organism, with strong vitality, slow movement, quite powerful yet quite powerless, only having the most basic instinct for survival. It may influence events, but it cannot actually perform surgery on itself. In the end, the World Will is just a kind of environment or phenomenon, not a living being with self-will, it is the throne, the crown, not the king.

The Crown of Thorns calls for those who can wear it.

Souls from beyond the border will eventually wear the Crown of Thorns.

Tasha, who took the final step, became the ruler of the world, became the world itself, she gained both will and power. Aryan became her dungeon, all limitations were broken, she could break down the abyss and repair the Primary Material Plane, in this world she knew everything, could do everything, and would last forever. Tasha no longer needed a body, every blade of grass, every mountain and water was her, she was omnipresent, the whole world was her body.

However, she no longer had emotions, no biases—why would the world care how a single ant lived, or what it thought? The clearest and wisest World Will only cares about the world itself, for all living beings in the world, she treats them equally, extremely fair, regarding all beings as equal.

Maybe it should be called "He"?

The Crown of Thorns calls out to those who can wear it, but in that moment when the ruler, who is also the bearer, puts on the crown, they blend with the world. The one sitting on the throne will never leave again, like every vast consciousness, the dominant soul that joins it will eventually be diluted, worn down by thousands of years, no longer bound by anything. The soul becomes the god of the world, and as an individual, ceases to exist.

Behind Victor, the Magic Pool has dried up. Where the Dungeon Core once floated, now lies empty.

Tasha said, "I will bear it."

"No!!"

Victor suddenly stood up, his teeth grinding loudly, glaring fiercely at the empty spot where the Dungeon Core used to be, as if someone could still see him.

"No, no, no, you can’t do this, you’re not the type of person to sacrifice yourself…" His voice lowered to a whisper, like speaking to himself, but it didn’t matter, the world was destined to hear, "You are going back on your word, you said you were ready!"

I was indeed ready, wasn’t I?

—In Victor’s mind, he almost heard such a cold response.

As Governor Natasha, she was indeed well prepared.

Many household records stored in the dungeon had been registered years before the Battle of the Abyss. The books in the Archmage Tower were becoming more organized, with a proper arrangement of books, all listed in a catalogue. Even if the Tower Spirit suddenly disappeared, readers would not be lost, as the information was well documented. All information recorded by Tasha had physical backups before the war.

In Tasmarin, Governor Natasha was the decision-maker, but at the same time, the council was not just for show. Comprised of different classes and groups, the council discussed decisions concerning Tasmarin and the whole world. In recent years, Tasha has been increasingly behind the scenes, silently empowering the council to make decisions. The composition and elections of council members, as well as proposing and discussing topics, were becoming more mature. Apart from the Governor, the Tasmarin council also had a relatively powerful Speaker, elected every four years.

The Aryan Empire’s media once referred to the Tasmarin council as the "Queen’s Court" and the Speaker as the Prime Minister, suggesting the latter’s existence was symbolic in countering negative accusations against the Governor. Some believed this was paving the way for a successor, but when Victor emerged, things became more mysterious. Many thought that Lady Natasha would have a legitimate heir, or she would acknowledge a designated heir as her child, especially as she seemed to be considering publicly acknowledging a "kingly consort."

Some feared Tasmarin would become a monarchy with hereditary succession, worrying that the most free and prosperous place in Aryan would slowly decline under a family inheritance system. Many others were not concerned, as they couldn’t see that far ahead or care about it. They believed that the Lord Governor would consider everything and all they needed to do was perform their duties well and toast loudly, "Cheers to Lady Natasha’s health and longevity!"

"I’ve seen many sidelined monarchs," Victor said, "but it’s the first time I’ve seen one orchestrating it themselves."

Some thought the council and Speaker were just for show, some believed Tasha was thinking of the heir, while Victor saw through Tasha’s intentions at first sight. Like guiding a toddler, Tasha was guiding the young Tasmarin, seeking support beyond her own hand. When Victor pointed this out, Tasha smiled. Demons liked such moments, in a world where most beings were ignorant, they could always understand each other, as only they could understand each other.

"I don’t want to be a nanny for a country my whole life, I’ll have to find ways to slack off," Tasha remarked casually.

"That’s not surprising, but I didn’t expect you to be so prepared so early," Victor said, "I thought with your controlling nature, you’d wait at least another one or two hundred years before thinking of stepping back."

"Then won’t you be very bored?" teased Tasha, sitting on a chair and using her sharp claws to tickle Victor’s leg. Victor fell for it and leaned down, holding onto the chair’s arms, nuzzling Tasha’s cheek with his nose. Tasha caressed the back of his neck and affectionately tugged at the horns of the Demon Lord. These hands could easily break the Demon Lord’s neck, but they treated him gently. Hmm, Victor also liked the rough parts.

She said, "Even if the world is going to end in a few hundred years, there’s no point in working for hundreds of years non-stop. Of course, I’ll give myself some time to have fun, don’t you think?"

Tasha didn’t directly answer the question. To the former Snake of Lies, replying with "I’ve been working, won’t you be bored" was more like coaxing a lover rather than answering why she was preparing so early. It was hardly an answer; she basically said nothing, a classic way of avoiding the question. But Victor didn’t mind at that time.

One thing needs to be clarified: the restored Victor is not foolish and won’t act foolishly for any reason, be it desire or love. As one who has experienced it firsthand, Victor believed that love doesn’t make a smart person dull and foolish. The things you see are still there; you just stop caring about them. Changing the subject? Oh, go ahead. Don’t want to talk about it? It doesn’t matter, it’s not important anyway.

Love is like a tinkling music box, like encountering the first snow when crawling out of the abyss to the Primary Material Plane. When you have it, your soul feels as cozy as soaking in warm water, comfortable yet lacking motivation, not caring about the details outside the warm pool. Being with Tasha was natural and fun; at that moment, Victor half-heartedly thought, "She didn’t really answer," but also felt, "Who cares," as there was nothing more important than kissing Tasha at that moment.

Not answering is fine; Victor knows the answer anyway. Tasha always has so many backup plans, ensuring multiple insurances for every task. Being prepared in advance, in case of unforeseen events, the answer may sound disappointing when spoken but makes sense as she, like Victor, prefers to be cautious. Victor greatly admired this and even felt a sense of pride: look, she’s just like this! She’s the kind of person I have, the kind of person who chose me. Isn’t that something to be proud of?

Looking back now, Victor felt an inexplicable itch.

Long before knowing she would never return, Tasha had prepared herself for her sudden disappearance. So when the time came to make a choice, she could leave without a care in the world.

Governor Natasha’s disappearance didn’t cause any ripples for Aryan.

It was unbelievable how Governor Natasha, a respected leader, mysteriously disappeared without anyone noticing. Her followers were clueless. But upon closer look, it wasn’t really surprising. The "Governor Natasha" that people knew was just Tasha’s body. The real mastermind behind everything was Tasha herself, hiding in a dungeon.

Tasha was the hidden force behind the scenes, posing as the powerful "Abyss Outpost" to establish her place in the Aryan Empire. She created a fictional Dungeon City Master to make others believe she was controlled by a mysterious figure. As time went on and Tasha acquired a physical form, her deception became more convincing. Only a select few, known as covenanters, were aware of the truth and remained loyal to her.

The media was used to Governor’s vanishing acts, with her personal life shrouded in mystery except for Victor’s presence. Mavismagic wand’s illusions could make Tasha appear as Governor Natasha, fooling many. The upper class in Tasmarin saw Governor’s disappearances as a test, believing she watched over them. Those who knew the truth were cautious and loyal, while the rest remained ignorant.

With Tasha’s careful planning and long-lasting measures, Governor’s facade remained intact for many years. As the truth slowly emerged among the upper class, "Miss Natasha" could exit gracefully.

"You broke your promise," Victor muttered. "You said you would take me to your world."

His voice echoed through the empty dungeon.

The day Victor was thrown into the abyss and entered the dungeon, it was already too late. The Dungeon Core, Tasha’s soul vessel, had merged with the world, and the dungeon was lifeless.

No one realized this.

The dungeon remained intact with no collapse. Gnomes roamed freely, slimes produced Magic Stones, ghosts disappeared, and dragon riders’ dragons frolicked, but all without a unified consciousness. Victor realized the dungeon’s quiet death was like a body without a soul, a parasite left living inside. It went unnoticed.

All types of homes were safe and sound, but even the best dungeon was not a place people wanted to stay. The dungeons were not designed to be inns. Nowadays, very few residents lived underground. The Dwarf Craftsman could make underground homes cozy and comfortable, making the sunny and airy areas above ground even more pleasant.

Mavis noticed there were no fresh ingredients left in the kitchen. She either moved to a new place to cook or continued to have fresh ingredients brought in. Tasmarin was rich in resources, and using magic to produce ingredients was no longer a profitable trade. The dungeon kitchen was no longer the place to provide life-saving food. A large dining hall was built above ground, and buying ingredients and hiring staff could boost the economy.

The Craftsman Dwarfs moved into the above-ground magic workshop. The assembly line factory could produce the finest parts, the Iron Golems could be good assistants, and the Magic Technicians could work together with the craftsmen, learning from each other. Some old-fashioned craftsmen still swung their hammers underground, but now, with the magic fire extinguished, these last batch of traditional craftsmen also had to move to the new workshop above ground.

With the greatly increased production efficiency now, the Training Ground no longer saved enough training props to be worth mentioning for Tasmarin. Soldiers and professionals had other Training Ground above ground. The graveyard, which once provided life-saving soldiers, could now become history. When there was a need for undead soldiers, the Necromancers were happy to assist. The Headless Horseman Alexander was now basically adopted by Dolores, the Undead Sorcerer leader. The Druid pharmacist who took care of the Medicinal Herb Garden would soon realize that underground was no longer suitable for herb growth. Luckily, in present-day Aryan, there were plenty of places suitable for growing magical plants. The screens linked to the watchtower would no longer show images, but drones and mechanical birds could now establish a new surveillance network.

They would notice some changes in the dungeon, but they did not realize what it meant.

"They adapted quickly, as if with or without you, it was all the same," Victor said. "I told you not to keep that puppy, and guess what? She didn’t care! This ungrateful dog, why did you keep her anyway?"

The second half of the sentence was just a random remark.

Victor went to find Marion after guessing what Tasha had done and not getting any response no matter how much he called out. Could the favorite she-wolf possibly know about Tasha’s whereabouts? Was it possible that Tasha simply hadn’t contacted Victor and put something in Marion’s place instead? Victor thought, if Tasha had not contacted him but contacted the she-wolf first, he would be furious. But if he had a choice, he would rather be furious.

Marion didn’t know where Tasha was, and no matter how loudly she shouted into the link or at the world, there was no response to her calls.

"You have been abandoned," Victor said with great malice to the she-wolf, "she abandoned you and chose to become the master of this world. You mean nothing to her, she doesn’t mind treating you like a mere ant."

When Marion didn’t get a response to her calls, she indeed seemed flustered. But when Victor explained Tasha’s whereabouts, the she-wolf didn’t show any signs of being abandoned, instead she appeared calm.

"Is this too complicated for your wolf brain?" Victor said, "Do I need to repeat it…"

"She has become the world, hasn’t she?" Marion said, "So that means she is always with us, watching us every moment, wherever we are, whenever. We are with her all the time, she just doesn’t answer."

"Almost forgot," Victor rolled his eyes, "The Orc ‘Ancestor Spirit’ is great at self-comfort, pretending that the dead are still around to live well."

"It’s different!" Marion said seriously, "I can’t be sure if the Ancestor Spirit is there, but as long as I’m alive, the world is definitely here. She is here, and she loves me."

Victor let out a loud sneer.

"She may ignore everyone, but she has become the world because she loves this world, loves us in the world," she-wolf continued with her linear thinking, "Even if she has become the world, her love for us won’t diminish, she will just love others in the world with the same strength. Don’t be angry just because she is no longer favoring you."

Of course, he could be angry, Victor was very angry because a simple-minded Orc unexpectedly saw things more clearly than him, hitting the nail on the head.

But demons don’t love with phrases like "I love you a little" or "I’m happy if you’re happy" – demons don’t feel love like that at all. Victor, a peculiar demon, can sense and give love, but this love is far from perfect. If he fell in love with an angel, he would surely break their wings, pull them down from the sky, keep them to himself, torment each other, making both unhappy. That’s why Victor fell in love with Tasha, a smart, morally flexible person who can understand each other, which is truly fortunate.

"Your little dog is too naughty, I’m thinking of killing her, what do you think?" Victor said.

Naturally, he heard no response at all.

Suddenly, Victor was extremely angry.

The demon thought he wouldn’t be angry about this anymore, after so many days have passed, he thought through all the vital points, understood that Tasha’s choice was the right one, a good outcome for both Aryan and him. Victor thought he could stay calm, behave like a mature demon, smile in agreement, gracefully toast to the air, wishing them a brief but pleasant companionship. Then he would live on as a carefree demon again, enjoying Tasha’s gifts, seeking pleasure in Tasha’s world, and accomplishing things they both would be happy to see. Even without the emotional aspects, Tasha was a pretty good partner for him.

But no.

Till this day, Victor is still unhappy about Tasha’s departure, or more precisely, he feels sad, angry, and wronged. Realizing this made him even angrier.

"Do you trust me to stay here?" The big demon hissed, the chill in his tone could make even soldiers shiver, "I am the last demon, the strongest one left here, no ‘heroes’ can stop me. This weakened world doesn’t even have a legend, what can a half-baked Saroism do? I will kill your little dog, and that Saint Child, you won’t like how they’ll die. I will kill… no, I don’t need to lay a hand on anyone, just exposing news of your death will do, most people are fools, trust and peace are fragile, you know what I can achieve! Do you really want to leave me here? Do you really believe I will protect this world? Ha, trusting a demon! I will destroy your garden and you won’t be able to stop me, Tasha, watch me!"

The threatening whisper turned into a roar, echoing in the empty hall, with only the echoes replying to him.

Shala.

Victor quickly spun around, almost too fast to see clearly. He spun around as if in battle, worried about the noise behind him like someone fleeing. The creature making the noise hadn’t disappeared; it stood on the floor, wiggling its whiskers clumsily.

A small magical creature.

Victor cursed in Abyssal language, wiped his face, slumped back to the edge of the Magic Pool, feeling embarrassed and not in the mood to deal with the little gnome.

"Fine," he mumbled, "Yes, I will."

Will the demon complete Tasha’s unfinished tasks?

He will.

Without any emotional attachment, Victor will ensure the world keeps going because he finds this world and its creatures so interesting. He likes this world, and he values his life enough. The Demon Lord used to begrudgingly serve as a low-ranking demon for survival, and now he will ensure the remaining world runs smoothly, for more enjoyment in his long life, regardless of any grudges he may hold.

Victor is not a reckless demon bent on causing chaos. He won’t create irreversible consequences out of spite, just like Tasha. Tasha’s trust is based on understanding, it’s a clear tactic, and she knows that well.

"But I will still kill those who don’t matter, just to annoy you… But now you don’t care anymore, right? You don’t care about them, or me." Victor chuckled dryly.

There was no response.

"It’s just that…" he whispered almost inaudibly as he buried his face in his hands, "Tasha, please don’t be like this to me…"

The empty dungeon was almost deserted, soon there might not be anyone left. The rescued Aryan beings neither knew what they had escaped from nor realized what they had lost. They would never discover the last demon in the hidden Dungeon Core hall conversing with the void. Even if they cried, no one would notice.

"I care a lot, you know."

Victor suddenly lifted his head.

His movement was so swift that it seemed like he could break his neck. While a voice echoed in his ear, Victor saw no one beside him, but wait, was there something?

It was a small white figure, too close, almost like a blurry weapon on his retina. Victor’s gaze lowered, his eyes focusing, meeting the eyes of the white figure on his shoulder. The translucent ghost floated on his shoulder, only as big as a palm, taking the form of Tasha.

Victor opened his mouth, then closed it, opened it again, and closed it once more. The usually eloquent demon now found himself speechless. His eyes scanned the hall, only to see the gnome who had been fast asleep on the floor moments ago, and a flash of inspiration burst into his mind.

That is gnome Ahuang.

Gnome Ahuang had a small piece of Dungeon Core belonging to Tasha on him.

Victor suddenly understood.

"As I’ve said," little Tasha said, "I am prepared."

Tasha was prepared, not just for unexpected events. She had a plan long ago: if the soul is only in one Dungeon Core, isn’t everything lost when the core is gone? Since the body can be backed up, it’s best to have a backup for the soul too.

Gnome Ahuang, this pet with accidentally combined Core Strength, was also a perfect "backup" location. Tasha had planned this out a long time ago, the remaining challenge was how to preserve the soul. That small piece of soul had to be separated from the Dungeon Core, or it would be damaged along with the core. The separation had to be complete on its own, or a fragment of memory or a piece of mad spirit escaping would be useless. Tasha didn’t want to become a sliced Great Devil in a story. This challenge troubled Tasha for many years, until the moment the dungeon was completed, she found the best solution.

High-level demons have the talent to split and backup their souls completely.

At the moment the dungeon was completed, all the elements of the abyss were also stored in Tasha’s vault.

Things were resolved.

Before Tasha put on the Crown of Thorns, she used the fragment of Dungeon Core inside Ahuang as support, and she separated her own soul. As half of her soul ascended to the Eternal Throne, Tasha as an individual also remained, like a pilot ejecting from a plane for a suicide mission escape.

"Wow," Victor exclaimed sincerely.

"Can you really handle a three-inch ghost?" Tasha pretended to be surprised.

"Seven days!" Victor angrily sniffed, "Seven days! You couldn’t have told me in advance? Couldn’t you have left some clues?!"

"If I had left clues in advance, but didn’t survive, wouldn’t that hurt your ancient soul?" Tasha said, "Besides, I need time to recover, and I have to consider if you have calmed down. Otherwise, if Ahuang appears and you kill me, wouldn’t it be a great injustice?"

In fact, half an hour earlier, Tasha could have appeared. But Victor looked so rare and cute in this way, like a lost puppy without an owner, that Tasha couldn’t help but want to watch him a little longer – something she absolutely couldn’t let him know, as Victor no longer needed to be more embarrassed and angry.

The big demon began his endless nagging, his complaints could pile up into a mountain and fill up an ocean. "You owe me!" Victor said, "You owe me this and that, compensating for the emotional trauma of a pure demon’s heart." He rested his head on his own shoulder, Tasha floated beside his cheek, pretending to hold his head, saying, "Okay, okay, okay."

The "rain" had not stopped yet.

At this moment, many people were strolling in the "rain" on the ground, all living beings were subconsciously relaxing in this gentle gift.

At the funeral of the Amazon Queen, many people relaxed their furrowed brows that had been tense for days. The rain of the world washed away the shadows in their hearts. Alfred took a breath, and only when the mountain on his chest disappeared did he realize it had been pressing him for the past few days. "I still need more practice," he thought. "No need to be sad, no need to be sad, we will meet again in the natural cycle." The Druid’s fingers gently touched the name of a friend on the tombstone, and he softly said, "Goodbye, friend."

The Archmage Tower was as busy as usual, with the participating wizards having long holidays, but most of them returned to their laboratories. Witch Medusa arrived in the rain, embracing each wizard and saying, "Congratulations on being alive! I love you all!" Dark Robed Wizard Miranda complained that she was disturbing the work of the Mage Tower, but when Medusa went to hug her, she didn’t resist – blaming it all on the rain. This was later proven to be a very bad idea as the witch left a hard-to-remove lipstick mark on her cheek, giggling as she ran away.

Xavier sat on the train home, staring out the window at the rain with his remaining eye. The Orc Warrior had lost one eye in the war, but he had killed countless demons, which was very rewarding. If only the heads of demons could be preserved, there would not be enough totems outside the tents to hang them all. Xavier thought proudly, "Uncle Terence would be proud of me. Oh, I also need to ask someone to write a letter to Ludwig for me, bragging about my achievements and making him take notice."

The painter he was talking about was busy with a new artwork. The brave Orc Graffitist had joined the team of war correspondents. His vibrant inspiration and imagery were waiting to be portrayed on canvas. The President of the Walke Artist Association, Quintina, was preparing a salon on this theme. Ribe Lake had recently hosted many grand banquets – people mourned, but they also celebrated, celebrating the survival of their beautiful world. The brave warriors had finally succeeded, all sacrifices were meaningful and worth remembering. Isn’t this worth celebrating? Come, wipe away your tears, and have a warm bowl of soup!

Life goes on, and so does hope and love.

Tasha held Victor close. She was an independent soul and the will of this world, enjoying both freedom and immortality. The catastrophe had not yet passed, but they still had time and opportunities to continue their efforts; everything was not over.

The story will continue, and that’s wonderful.

[The End]