“I thought you wouldn’t make it. I never imagined Leia would let you come back.”
The palace rooftop was exceptionally spacious. Looking down, the flower sea of the Evil Dragon Domain and the endless wilderness stretched out below. Looking up, it felt as though one could reach out and touch the gray-black clouds.
Laer gripped the railing and turned her head, catching sight of Xuefei hurrying over just in time.
Her clothes were in disarray, as if she had just endured some harrowing ordeal. She bore no resemblance to the dainty little princess she usually was. Her eyes were downcast and dull, yet the flickering spark of hope in her scarlet pupils had not yet been extinguished.
“You’re underestimating me a little, Laer,” Xuefei said weakly. “You’ve never seen me fail before, have you?”
“…So you’re admitting it yourself?”
“Yeah…”
Xuefei said no more. She merely nodded in acknowledgment, shut the door behind her, and paced across the rooftop tiles toward Laer.
“I only have five minutes left before I have to go. Can you even call this composure?”
“Everything’s going according to plan.”
Xuefei spread her hands with a shrug.
In that instant, Laer felt as if she had slipped back into the past.
Her eyes widened, as though she were glimpsing a scene from another time and place.
That hero used to say things like that all the time. It always had a way of steadying everyone’s nerves.
“Everything is according to plan.”
But whenever a member of the Hero Party fell in battle, he never said it like that…
The Camiran Continent was a game.
That was how Xuefei had always seen it in the past. But after enduring trial after trial, could she truly maintain that same unflappable poise?
Laer thought she understood Xuefei pretty well—Leia did too. Yet it seemed Xuefei was still hiding something, something no one could pierce.
“Don’t worry, this time it’s different. But I need to know exactly what happened to Leia’s body.” Xuefei didn’t join Laer in taking in the gray-black expanse of wilderness. Instead, she squatted down, hugged her knees to her chest, and settled gingerly into the corner against the wall.
“Yeah, I have a pretty good idea what happened to Leia. But I never thought this day would come so soon…”
Xuefei pricked up her ears to listen intently. She stayed silent, nearly burying her head between her thighs, looking for all the world as if she were about to nod off.
“Go on.”
“Now I’m going to share some knowledge I’ve picked up in my downtime… Xuefei, do you know the purpose behind the gods’ existence?”
Those shiny, arrogant overlords who lorded over the world?
Xuefei shook her head.
On the surface, the gods scoured other worlds for suitable heroes, bestowed power upon them, and sent them to rescue realms mired in suffering and chaos.
But what about the reality?
Why did saving the world require heroes at all, rather than the gods handling it themselves? And by what measure did they determine which “suffering” worlds desperately needed salvation?
These were mysteries without answers—or at least, Xuefei had never given them a second thought since arriving in the Camiran Continent. Her goal had always been straightforward: beat the game-like world and return home… It was only now that she realized these worlds were real. Everyone in them grieved, everyone rejoiced, and everyone had a heart and will of their own.
But by the time that realization dawned, her path lay in ruins, and she trudged onward like a walking corpse. She defeated the Evil Dragon and fulfilled her duty as a hero.
Yet what meaning did any of it hold?
“We tend to overlook the true nature of things when we bend to reality, until eventually we stop thinking about them altogether… That’s the saying: the bystander sees more clearly than the person in the thick of it.”
Laer nodded, not disputing Xuefei’s words. She smoothed back her wind-tossed hair and continued:
“I wouldn’t know… That’s to be expected. Let me explain what really happened. It might turn your understanding upside down, but I’m certain you can handle it.”
“This world operates on two entirely distinct systems. The first is the ‘gods’ we’re familiar with. They wield divine power and embody both wisdom and might… They fall under the banner of the ‘Light Emissaries.’
“Opposing them are the entities known as ‘Dark Filth’—born from the obsessions that linger after souls dissipate, the physical manifestation of negative emotions. They are an inseparable, essential part of every world.”
It was easy enough to grasp.
Just like her and Leia.
Dark Filth—even the name sounded ominous, no doubt marking it as the side of evil. Sure, it was a gathering of impure things like negative emotions and obsessions, but that didn’t make it inherently “evil.” After all, “justice” and “evil” were merely labels slapped on by people. That alone wasn’t justification for light and dark to clash.
“So, our question is this: why would the ‘Light Emissaries’ take the initiative to attack us ‘Dark Filths’?” Laer propped her head up on one hand. She glanced at Xuefei, who had buried her head between her knees, and confirmed that the other girl’s eyes hadn’t closed at all. Instead, she was staring intently at something… With an air of utter boredom, Laer continued speaking.
“I don’t fully know the motives of the current Gods… Dark Filth is like a calm sea, while Light Emissaries are the vast blue cosmos. Tides rise and fall; everything requires balance. As for these worlds, they might be cities swallowed up just before the rainwater merges into the ocean. Of course, the vast majority of worlds aren’t touched by the waves at all—the difference is merely between a torrential downpour and a misty drizzle. And the Camiran Continent here is probably one just recently struck by a tsunami.”
“As a rational monster—or rather, as Dark Filth—we must clearly understand that we are composed of those unclean things. Even those of us who transformed into Dark Filth later, like you, me, and Leia, have to take note of this… And so, understanding ourselves becomes one of the most important topics.”
“Mm, I get that,” Xuefei nodded, offering no denial.
Understanding oneself is worlds apart from understanding others—it’s the most grueling riddle in life.
This naturally includes oneself as well.
“In my case, it’s probably jealousy. When I see someone in the same situation as me but far more outstanding, I can’t help hating the bastard,” Laer made no effort to hide her negative emotions. If anything, it was precisely these kinds of feelings that earned her the label of Dark Filth, and becoming a monster only made them worse.
This was already a matter of fundamental essence.
“As for Leia, it might be her love for you and her obsession. But do you understand yourself, Xuefei…?”
Understand herself?
Xuefei showed no reaction, as if lost in thought.
But when Laer noticed those small hands clenched into fists, she didn’t worry too much and pressed on with her explanation.
“Light and dark together form an inseparable part of the world. Yet the incompatibility of souls causes these wholes to stand independent from one another, giving rise to all sorts of personalities and consciousnesses that create a bizarre, motley spectacle.”
“And among them, there is one exception. Have you heard of the ‘Complete God Soul’?”
